In the darkest depths of winter atop Mt. Apexius
The ravens circle over the head of a tired Krothian
On the sacred stone her gut rips apart and out comes a true son of hell
He commences his feast of matriarchal meat, gorging as blood runs down his cheek
The ravens say that from this day forth the world shall fear Norloxius
THE BLOOD SMOKER
THE BLOOD SMOKER
From His birth he roamed the land
Smoking the blood of every beast and man
He Loads his pipe with nectar red
And inhales the blood of the newly dead
Nothing at all can strike him down
As long as the blood keeps flowing through his lungs
He is a demon in the flesh
But he bleeds just like any mortal man
I am Norloxius, and it is time for to show the world the true meaning of fear.
From the whore of Kroth I was birthed and now I shall take my vengeance upon the world
He roams the earth from town to town, his craving for blood still strong
No matter how many mortals he kills, from blood he can not be weaned
His contempt for Kroth and the whore that it birthed fuels him day by day
Now The apocalypse has a name, its name is Norloxius
From His birth he roamed the land
Smoking the blood of every beast and man
He Loads his pipe with nectar red
And inhales the blood of the newly dead
Nothing at all can strike him down
As long as the blood keeps flowing through his lungs
He is a demon in the flesh
But he bleeds just like any mortal man
A world plunged into fear by a half demon, gives a final cry for help
Despair drowns the souls of those not fallen.
The unheeded call beckons oblivion.

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