Touch the cold heart of the mountain with the melancholic folkish melodies of Drochtaurach. The mists of time hide the wrathful stones who cry out to the primordial forces with mournful, ethereal soundscapes. Nature herself cries out but who shall hear her? What soul can understand the wailing cries of the sea and the stream? What heart can translate the death throes of the ancient hills?
From the fog of the battlefield in the fens to the towering cathedrals in the early morning, Vespers of Prideful Scorn takes the listener on a tour de force of orchestral synth, bringing to bear horns, keys, strings, voices, and flutes. From the insurmountable heights of the mountains, crowned with ancient diamond gleaming clouds to the lowest depths, the caverns far from the light where the waters are harsh and cold, the soundscape echoes, encapsulating the balance of humanity and nature.
Behold the greatness of kings and the lowness of the slaves, the pomp of the church and the blood of the warrior. Behold the struggle of man against nature and man against man where there can be no victory. Bear witness, ye peoples, to the fall of the morning star and the rise of the king of kings! Hear his trumpets and cower in fear ye mortal men! Give ye your hails unto the greatest of all men! Hear his triumph echo in the hills. He who has conquered the gods and nature is come at last! Let the melodies, ancient and power, of the son of the morning be heard in all hearts!