Indeed they are, they are also one of the most talented and underrated black metal bands around, and they're French to boot. I'm really looking forward to the follow up of Fas - Ite, Maledicti, in Ignem Aeternum. I like their look into Satanism on a more metaphysical level, it helps them create a more sophisticated style and sound that many other Black Metal bands miss. From what I've read their newest album is suppose to be Man's relationship between Satan and God, so it's got me intrigued.

Personally I think they are pretentious as **** when ti comes to their beliefs and they just try to sound smart. I read one of their rare interviews and it seemed like they had no clue what they were talking about.

I like them a lot because there Satanism is actually honest and it comes out in their music.

Good thread

C'mon man get cracking with this, i'm intrigued.

Same thing can be said for just about every extreme metal band though, especially Deicide.

im not the one for weird and creepy stuff but im really exicted to see what else your making

#13 was pretty cool and i cant wait for another one! :clap:

Maybe a little.. :D For me the scariest black metal is the really raw stuff from the middle of nowhere by that weird band you've never heard of before. I used to listen to more polished stuff like Chtonic and Cor Scorpii but I've gotten into the.. weirder stuff. Like Enemite and Sortsind

#12

Comus - First Utterance


The campfire takes a violet hue tonight, the crackling of the sparse wood snickering into the blearing silence. A traveller holds his hands over the strange fire, his eyes bulge with intent whiteness, whatever he sees terrifies him. Breathing heavily, he sits and pulls his knees close. The trees start to laugh behind him.


1. Diana

Man rakes his nails upon the ashen stone of his birth, the bull, the cockatrice, the snarling dragon. In the moonlit night, when the cave-dweller takes to watching the forest. The night moans with phantom gusts, blowing over in such a way to cause the man to shake. He bites his lip and looks to the woods, the black woods cover the land ahead in a lumpy cloak-suddenly he notices something strange in the distance, a fiery wyrm weaving and scaling the thick woodlands. He hears the faint barking of wild-dogs. As he watches the party's flames dance in the underbrush, drawing in closer and closer. Eventually they come to a pocket in the forest, where a few broken boulders stand awkwardly in the ground. Under the moon curving smile, a girl runs across the rocky space. The Man cannot comprehend what he is seeing, the girls form is supple and thin, yet her legs are curled muscle, she bounds as stags in the heat of flight. He skin paler than any he has ever seen, her hair flickers like the torches chasing her. She's nearly escaped into the woods again, then for a moment she turns and looks up. The Man stares into the maiden's eyes. He doesn't notice the burning in his mind, only the pull in his legs, and the maddening desire to touch and bite. He yells and runs down the hill to catch her.

2. The Herald

Praise to the mortals,
to never know who calls them hither.


3. drip Drip

I have loved only once. In my youth I never felt the desires of other men, whilst they chased the wool skirts I carved and sang the old songs they forgot. I stayed in the forest, memorized the ivy crags, the trees with the brittle bark, the fields alive with the sun's sparkling honey. I eventually built a house there, I did not care for other people.
Years passed, my life in the woods had made my hands calloused claws, and I never wore boots anymore. I began to notice a girl by the stream I visited once a month to bathe. She would fill her bucket and then depart, singing the whole time. I had never heard anything more beautiful, I remembered the songs from my childhood. They weren't songs I particularly liked, all about the Nazarene and such. . . I only cared for the virgin mouth they skipped from, yes I felt in me something I thought dead since the moment my mother pushed me from the primordial syrup.
I decided to take her the next week.

4. Song to Comus
Dance until death, laugh until strangled, love until disembowled.


The trees screamed over the traveller's horrid bellowing as he ran from the campsite.

More Soon

Maybe this will be finished by this coming Halloween.

Or by the end of next week.