Something lurks in the choking shadows of Darkwood. You feel watched by headless eyes. The grasp of a ash-gray hand rolls over you and you know its too late. He has come.

Hand of Darkwood

Clouds rush past us as we ascend. A peach-purple wind carries us towards the moon. Soon we will transcend these wayward skies.

Wayward Skies

Things unseen creep away from a hint of light. Skittering. Hybrid work of orchestral and electronic sound. 

Skittering

We try to hold them, but they become our loss. Serene, emotional orchestral music with a hint of electronic sounds and atmosphere.

Hold and Loss

You awake from a deep dreamless sleep. From everywhere and nowhere, a voice calls out for you. It seeks you and you seek it. You start walking, pacing, running through thickets, thunderstorms and dark forests. You come closer. The voice... you can almost touch it... until... you wake.

Concussive Dreams

The end is nigh and little hope remains. The ancient overlords are coming and their forces march on the citadel of light.

Marius Hofbauer

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