Days Of Yore The Hand Of Truth Lyrics

The Hand Of Truth Lyrics


To walk in this part of the realm aroused grievous memories in the warrior's

mind and he knew it was no coincidence. 
To the north lied the vestiges
of an ancient province of Syrakia called Kol, 
that had been reduced to the
size of a vulgar town after its numerous assaults 
against the motherland.

This town, that was split by an abyss of discord, appeared through the
centuries being 
the home of corruption and deceit. 
It was under the
domination of two notorious crooks that ruled over the two halves of the

village. If the antique province had been a plague for his ancestors, the
village was a 
torture for Arbo and the prospect of returning there seemed
an agony. 
Something terrible had occured in this very town, something that
had killed a part of him. 
Yes, the warrior had a bone to pick with someone
there and his fists clenched as he 
divined the nature of his final task.

In the distance, the sinister village was appearing in all its hideousness.

Nothing had really changed since the last time in this place where ignominy
had its own 
odor. Just breathing this air seemed the most reprehensible
sin. 
Instructions were futile, thought the elder, but all the same he gave
a last word of 
warning to which the warrior seemed deaf before vanishing
into the night.

Arbo watched the old man slowly fade away,
wearing a
worried face as darkness stole the day. 
His heart pounding, he entered the
decadent place,
making himself ready to be put to the test.

As he
trod these streets of ill fame, the stare full of suspicion, 
then came back
into his head the old man's admonition.

Dark hand, hand of greed.

Hand that gives, hand that steals. 
Bright hand, hand of truth. 
Hand
that bleeds, hand that cures. 

Don't ever trust in the hand of greed.

Whatever she gives, twice she steals.
Always trust in the hand of truth.

The pain she gives, she always cures.

Walking for a while, Arbo
landed up in a deserted street. 
This place was evil, all his senses were on
the qui vive. 
Then arised from nowhere, a short man chubby and balding.

He slowly came up to Arbo and then said unto him:

"Descendant of
Syrakia, thou art said to be brave and strong.
Slay my foe, the mage Zorka,
and I shall give thee all thou want."

"I am surely as brave as you are
greedy and liar
and what I want is surely beyond your skills by
far."

"I will give thee gold, more gold than thou shalt ever
need.
Show me what thou art made of coward, kill my ennemy."

"Gold's
not despicable, but I think your gold surely is.
Now get out of my way, you
wimp, before you make me ill."

Leaving Urmeech, Arbo hurried to the
northern part of the village. 
There he would have to eschew the lure of the
old mage. 
Suddenly, in a flash of fire, Zorka appeared. 
Lust glinted
into his eyes as he said unto him:

"Descendant of Syrakia, I can give
thee power and glory.
Bring me the head of Urmeech, and then by all thou
shalt be feared."

"A king must not be feared by his people, but by his
ennemies.
When I reign over my kingdom, I'll show you what a true king
is."

"I heard that recently thy beloved Nadya met her fate.
Shouldest
thou kill Urmeech, I shall rise her from the dead."

"There is but one
justice in life and this is the justice of death.
It is not given to man to
question the quirks of fate."

Then Zorka leaveth him, and, behold,

angels came and ministered unto him.