THE BATTLE BARD
Primer trabajo de la banda suiza "Battle Tales", un grupo formado en 2013 y del que poca o ninguna información se encuentra aún en la red. En una clave de folk power metal su sonido puede traer reminiscencias de alguna otra banda, así gustan de utilizar flautas y otros elementos folk, con un regusto un poco "Elvenking" en ocasiones, aunque alejado en general de ese sonido, o también recordándome a otra banda italiana como "Spellblast" aunque en una clave más power, menos heavy metal, menos cruda, con más arreglos. Como es evidente no han inventado nada nuevo, y tampoco creo que vaya a ser el grupo revelación de este año, sin embargo si merece la pena darse un paseo por este primer LP, "The Ire Of the condemned" del presente 2018 para descubrir el potencial que si parecen atesorar, como por ejemplo en el tema que dejo de ellos hoy en el blog, "The battle bard", una canción de la que dejo un enlace a youtube.
The Bard :
Never had I wished to enter the troops of the king
And see with my own eyes the horrors of the battlefield.
Never raised as a soldier but taught to tell the tales,
I was forced to serve in the army as a battle bard.
Now bound to witness the clash of swords
And the warriors ripping off their precious lives
On the verdant grass,
On a hill by the officers, my duty is to see it all,
And to tell the folk the bravery and the might,
The memory of these men who soon will
Fall and fall and fall again
Under the baneful bites of blades,
Perish for the authority of a king,
Protect the realm or gain the lands.
In the melee they will turn into beasts
At the sound of a song of grief.
On and on the flute will cry
Until the brave soldiers all have died.
At the sound of the horns,
As the waves on the shores,
Wall of shields against the spears
Surged into an infernal din.
At this very moment
I heard them yell in my head.
The thousand souls in the flute
Were again craving for revenge.
They will fall and fall again
Under the baneful bites of blades,
Perish for the authority of a king,
Protect the realm or gain the lands.
In the melee they will turn into beasts
At the sound of a song of grief.
On and on the flute will cry
Until the brave soldiers all have died.
Scorching and slashing my mind,
Haunting souls slipped from the wood,
Took control of my blood and bones,
Forcing me to play and stare.
Under my demented fingers
A maleficent sound spread,
Flowing in the battlefield
To the ears of fighting warriors.
Under my helpless sight,
Evil madness stroke the fight.
No more enemy nor friend,
Only flesh and death.
A pit of insanity where all humanity
Was nothing anymore but hate and gore.
They will fall and fall again
Under the baneful bites of blades,
Perish for the authority of a king,
Protect the realm or gain the lands.
In the melee they will turn into beasts
At the sound of a song of grief.
On and on the flute will cry
Until the brave soldiers all have died.
Never had I wished to enter the troops of the king
And see with my own eyes the horrors of the battlefield.
Never raised as a soldier but taught to tell the tales,
I was forced to serve in the army as a battle bard.
Now bound to witness the clash of swords
And the warriors ripping off their precious lives
On the verdant grass,
On a hill by the officers, my duty is to see it all,
And to tell the folk the bravery and the might,
The memory of these men who soon will
Fall and fall and fall again
Under the baneful bites of blades,
Perish for the authority of a king,
Protect the realm or gain the lands.
In the melee they will turn into beasts
At the sound of a song of grief.
On and on the flute will cry
Until the brave soldiers all have died.
At the sound of the horns,
As the waves on the shores,
Wall of shields against the spears
Surged into an infernal din.
At this very moment
I heard them yell in my head.
The thousand souls in the flute
Were again craving for revenge.
They will fall and fall again
Under the baneful bites of blades,
Perish for the authority of a king,
Protect the realm or gain the lands.
In the melee they will turn into beasts
At the sound of a song of grief.
On and on the flute will cry
Until the brave soldiers all have died.
Scorching and slashing my mind,
Haunting souls slipped from the wood,
Took control of my blood and bones,
Forcing me to play and stare.
Under my demented fingers
A maleficent sound spread,
Flowing in the battlefield
To the ears of fighting warriors.
Under my helpless sight,
Evil madness stroke the fight.
No more enemy nor friend,
Only flesh and death.
A pit of insanity where all humanity
Was nothing anymore but hate and gore.
They will fall and fall again
Under the baneful bites of blades,
Perish for the authority of a king,
Protect the realm or gain the lands.
In the melee they will turn into beasts
At the sound of a song of grief.
On and on the flute will cry
Until the brave soldiers all have died.
By Nash
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