Moon... is black tonight

Silence... is mantling every sound

Shadows... coming down the hills

Fires... are burning in the clearing

Witches... are dancing... ghosts around the pot

Crying... praying... summoning the Witchlord

"Witchlord, come to us, thine servants 'till the end

Possessed by Evil, we're trembling for thy strength"

Windblows... shaking the treetops

Lightning... flashing through the (clear) sky

Thunder... frightening men asleep

Blackshapes... coming out the pot

Witches... are bowing... boneless before the dark smoke

Weeping... shaking... summoning the Witchlord

"Witchlord, come to us, thine servants 'till the end

Possessed by Evil, we're trembling for thy strength"

A blaze of darkness from the Reign of Black strikes the pot in the middle of the glade;

A gust of smoke rising from the circle melts to poison as two horns appear;

A voice of sickness from a goated helm fills the air with a mortal stench

"Kneel, my servants, I heard your sick pleas, the time has come to fight for your faith

EVOL, my Lord, send me to drive you, the storm of death we will bring on earth

Thunder, Plague, Wind, Flood, come to my request, Father give me strength

Rise up, your weapons and follow my dark sword, children of darkness bow to the Witchlord"