Evol
Witchlord
Moon... is black tonight
Silence... is mantling every sound
Shadows... coming down the hills.
Fires... are burning in the clearing
Witches... are dancing... ghosts around the pot.
Crying... praying... summoning the Witchlord.
"Witchlord, come to us, thine servants 'till the end.
Possessed by Evil, we're trembling for thy strength".
Windblows... shaking the treetops.
Lightning... flashing through the (clear) sky
Thunder... frightening men asleep.
Black shapes... coming out the pot
Witches... are bowing... boneless before the dark smoke Weeping...
Shaking... summoning the
From Letras Mania