Sanctimonious

by Dream Void

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about

The tale of a Necromancer pursuing the Lord of Terror as he travels lands unseen in the name of The Priests of Rathma.

credits

released July 21, 2017

Justin Seymour (The Room Colored Charlatan, Bodhi)
Music composition, tracking, and engineering

Drew Keedy - Lyrics and vocals

Manny Casas (Breeding Filth, Found Hanging)
Guest vocals, voicing Necromancer on track 2, Lord of
Terror on track 5 and Tor'Baalos on track 6.

Steven Harrell (Hatchling)
Piano composition on track 2 and 6

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about

Dream Void Lafayette, Indiana

Technical death metal project in the beginning phases of creating music.

Lafayette / Muncie, Indiana.

Looking for lead, rhythm and bass players in the area to perform this content live.

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Track Name: The Path of Sin
“Invocation of the Goetia” I call upon your loosely bound tapestries that need deciphering.
Transcriptions written in the blood of the goat, beckoning the blasphemous out of the dark
Into the light, for there you will find them laying with their arms extended reaching upward, as if modeled after what was drawn from the throat of the goat whose sacrifice brought these unholy vestiges
“Vanquish evils from the den that plagues this land. Return to me and I shall grant you knowledge of your discipline.”
Light reflecting, bouncing rays from the surface of the altar of the Countess. As I slowly draw my dagger carved from a single tusk the shadows of this chamber retract as if in fear of the balance that I preserve favoring the Light.
As I cut him from his ties I release the last living legend of the Horadrim and all of the knowledge they have archived through the centuries.
An elder that only wishes you would stay a while and listen to the stories you must pass along
“Rathma's son, heed my call! For the lord of terror seeks to embody pure destruction. Venture east and delve deep into the dark catacombs. There he will be, cloaked in flesh, awaiting your arrival.”
(Sneaking past the hour at which) Sneaking past the hour at which light doth take its somber leave I fasten my now lichen fingers to my kris as I preceded to channel the hidden secrets of the most impure of teachings leaving a decrepit shell smoldering on the floor of this cathedral.
Opening the gates I demonstrate that I defeated she that blocked the way for me to find the path of Sin and those that seek it.
Eastward I stressed as he took my request… a victim of my gruel.
Track Name: Lord of Maggots
The Halls of the Dead feed from me - benefit from my shortcomings. Unprepared for the abysmal inexactitude, lightly treaded, the steps I place carry me deeper into the acrid crypts of this monolithic entrance.
Completely submerged underground I light my lantern. Hands before me, fingers scraping at the walls of this sandstone sepulcher. At the sight of (at the sight of my dagger they) once again flee, pleading...
Importunely spoken syllables dissolving the flesh from my lips as these corpses stir with distress. Anathematized, a slowing hex I placed upon them as their once demonically resurrected brethren breathe the light of life.
A curious Cube drops to the ground, gleaming with enigmatic splinters, opening to reveal a prism denying laws of physics.
I drop the amulet inside, nearly vomiting as I hear the depth it dropped before echoing back. The Cube is like nothing from this planar realm of existence.
I drop the staff inside. Closing the lid of this Cube that fits within my palms the consistency of the air changes, akin to that of which you would expect from inhaling a breath of purity. A numbing sense of relief washes over me as the Cube produces the head of an ancient Staff.
Descending through the ruined palace now inhabited by the unliving I reach a temporal rift…
Placing the hilt within the orifice, I tremble as the earth shakes. With this army I have raised from these rotting corpses I confront the silithid.
Track Name: These Cursed Zakarum
As I begin to etch the ground with my ivory dagger, carving glyphs into the stone of this sacred temple, the ashes of the sycophants swirl around creating a disheartening personification.
The ashes congregate to form a necrotic mass, slowly gestating to form the twisted bodies of these cursed Zakarum.
Surrounded by my barriers of bone these twisted mockeries of life invoke unholy fallacy. Using knowledge obtained by the teachings of light these malformations distort the very energy… The energy of light itself, condensing the ultraviolet spectrum into a pulse of anguish.
The force that penetrates my cuirass licks my soul with a tongue most foul.
As I enter the depths of this Durance I raise my hand, consciousness fades. Draconian vertebrae surround me, calcifying, dense with Astral sigils adorning, these vertebrae guard me from the unknown Hatred that seeks to grasp my soul as I cautiously, blindly seek its origin.
I taunt the shadows as they slowly flicker, dancing, swallowing the gap which served as a buffer should my reflexes fail to protect me from this twisted shell adorned with spines that swirl beneath its ominous husk.
Passages from The Goetia spill forth. Shriveling my lips as they shrill through my voice, as if a forbidden dialect of the damned. Maintaining the balance, I use the most guarded of secret teachings. Upholstered from the decomposed slew, I dare not lick my finger as I delicately traverse each scripture.
Grotesquely protruding from the ectoplasmic center radiates the Soulstone, smoldering with execration.
Track Name: Vaporous Angst
This prism, carved from a stone of hatred so pure it compels those who foolishly gaze within its swirling blackened void of nothingness to enact upon its misdeeds.
Vaporous angst escapes the joining… the joining
of each facet.
Burdened, cautiously finding my way. Each footstep carefully planted as these hordes swarm the narrow constructs which span this river of flame. Pillars planted by lunatic visceral perversion provide pre-conceived notions that atrocious monstrosities pervade the passages before me (monstrosities pervade the passages before me).
Beyond the spectrum, a cold wash pulsates through me as I watch myself perform the actions of a programmed mind. An emotional projection from the deepest pits of the unknown – this is the terror that I experience as a cancer of the damned burrows its wispy, lichen fingers into the backs of my eyes.
Malignant blackened tendrils swirl around the optic nerve for now darkness sees them.
It deceived me.
There is a shadow lurking closer as the wind licks the flame these candles hanging in these grimly lit hallways (grimly lit hallways).
The corridors begin to glow an onyx hue. A hooded thing approaches, cautiously finding its way. Each footstep carefully planted. Displaying a decanter on its lichen palm, that of which it assuredly did not seem to wish to drop, it slowly loses its opacity as it nears.
A forked tongue violates our language.
“Come Nephalem, your sins reprememand ignorance in bliss! The chosen few who tip the scale disprove the innocence of Trag’Oul.”
A celestial serpent rises high to strike through the fingertips of this human man.
“Not even death can save you from me.”
(A celestial serpent rises high to strike) A celestial serpent rises high to strike through the fingertips of this human man.
“Not even death can save you from me (you from me).”
Track Name: Tor'Baalos
As if I am filled with the light as I venture toward the Worldstone Chamber at the core of Arreat my mind seems to flood with distraught temptations to purge the sickness from these catapulting ranks of rot.
Slowly chanting hexes assured to lament the feeble minds of the impure and the sacrileges they procure, turning piles of freshly execrated remnants into an explosive cloud of amnesty; a darkened rite of travesty.
Hemorrhagic convulsions expel this vile bile, corrosively dissolving the flesh from the ranks of this darkened lord, “The Fabled Herald of Destruction”. Allowing me to narrowly escape the swarm that filled the skies with Harrogath’s ashes.
We breath in these ashes carrying victims of the darkness in our blood as we release these faceless amalgamations that approach me triggering memories of beggars in the streets. Poisonous pulses; I release novae that surround me and my army of monstrosities.
“O’ Maiden of Anguish - arise! Your lustful skin bruised as I call you from these ruins where quartets of seven bodies lie. Facing the Heavens, eyes open, brains severed.” (Facing the Heavens, eyes open, brains severed)
“Hear me, Lord of Maggots! Come forth! Bring your frigid fog of frozen smog that leeches life from the insides of their flesh. Forceful frosting, coagulation of the scarlet fluid flowing. Vessels fortified, muscles slowly slide from these razored bones.”
“Mephisto, Lord of Hatred - disperse! Fill the shadows that remain opaque in the hallways of every corner of the world!”
“I summon the fallen Terror! I omit the passages from every script that mentions evidence that you failed to bring the nephalem to justice in the name of The Seven Heads of Tethamet.”
A compelling sense of urgency fills me with demonic visions. Sitting atop a throne centered in a grand hall I witness a horrific beast. Before me lies each grand achievement of my journey resurrected; made whole once more.
Tor’Baalos surges me with each of these grand adversaries.
Ashes, we breath in these ashes carrying victims of the darkness in our blood as we release these faceless amalgamations that approach me triggering memories of beggars in the streets. Poisonous pulses; I release novae that surround me and my army of monstrosities.
“Maiden of Anguish - arise! Your lustful skin bruised as I call you from these ruins where a quartet of seven bodies lie. Facing the Heavens, eyes open, brains severed.”
“Hear me, Lord of Maggots! Come forth! Bring your frigid fog of frozen smog that leeches life from the insides of their flesh. Forceful frosting, coagulation of the scarlet fluid flowing. Vessels fortified.”
“Hear me Lord of Maggots! Come forth! Come forth!”