he rises in the sombre sadness in the silence of monastic madness behind monolithic pillars of churches, shrines and chapels in the dust of ageold cathedrals where the horrors of death shake the ground his shadow grows in arcane castles where secret sins gnaw the souls of gauntly lords in the crypts where alchemysts transform the nature of things in the woods where magicians practice their nocturnal arts Sathanas is everywhere many can see him, to many he speaks hermits call him and we serve him when fiery omens set the night ablaze when stars take strange shapes and planets bathe in blood when we spread the seed of malediction
alchemysts, gauntly, monastic, ageold, hermit