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Innferd:

Somewhere inbetween fact and myth lies the story of Vindheim... The year was 1352, and Norway was in a state of deep despair. As the black plague raged across the country, a remote part of midwestern Norway called Vindheim faced an even greater threat. A dark warlord had emerged, leading an uprising against the christian communities. He stopped at nothing to restore old traditions, utterly destroying everyone and everything refusing his gods and ways of old. His army grew to vast proportions, and even though it consisted mostly of ruthless mercenaries and fanatics, it was rumored that he also had beings of supernatural powers within his ranks. Later during the middle ages, mothers told their children stories about these fearsome beings to encourage their offspring to be good. One can only dream of what it was like for the inhabitants of Vindheim, that may have had to face such dreadful creatures as Nattens Matriark, Fergemannen, and above all, Kostebilen. As the tale goes, the Warlord himself was a black magician, and he and his dark hordes ruled Vinheim with an iron fist, while trying to spread their evil influence to the towns and villages in midwestern Norway.

Nattens matriark:

The warlord has followers everywhere; one of

them is a myterious old lady, by many beleived

to be a hag. Accused of withcraft and sentenced

to burn on the stake, she managed to flee from

imprisonment just before her execution, as the

warlord rode into the village, slaughtering

almost every single man that stood against him.

Rumors have it that she swore allegiance to the

dark lord to aid him in his quest. This old lady is

akin to the sirens of the sea; she lures her victims

into her lair, but as the victim of a normal siren

is merely entranced, a victim of the hag is said

to be sacrificed in a manner so disturbing, even

the mayans pale in comparison.

Jeg kjenner en gammel dame

Som er djevelsk ond av vane

Hun tjener det sorte i det mørke

En kniv har hun skjult i sitt tørkle

Og i kjelleren har hun et alter av marmor

Dette er sannelig ondskapens farmor

Hun sitter ei og dveler

over skjebner

til fortapte sjeler

Og hvert et kamferdrops i hennes pose

Lokker nye sjeler til å bli gjenfødt

som barn av dødens kone

De møtte alle en dyster skjebne

dem som hun lokket inn i sitt rede

Til ondskapen hun gjør sin ofre

Hun dreper av lyst

og det temmelig ofte

Hun sender dem til helvete

For aldri mer å finne gledene

til sitt fortapte liv

Hvor kulingen blåser

forholdsvis stiv