Only little time remains, the fire is stoked high, glowing coals at the bottom, devastating flames at the top. Swords are forged, heads are joined. The group is getting bigger, approaching from far and wide. With gritted teeth, on stomping boots, transported on creaking carts, seated on rhythmic galloping horses. Bio-mechanical robot arms operate the enormous mammoth skin drums, a seditious rhythm, perfect chaos harmony, eardrum-shattering.
The hissing battle pipe is ignited and everyone takes a draft of the stimulant medicine. Chalices with amanita elixir prepared during the full moon are passed. Soon the beneficial effects will do exactly what the warriors need. The battle shaman personally takes care of the flowing movement of the expanding symmetrical composition. He conducts the troops in a mesmerizing manner in hypnotic waves. Up and down, in and out. It's a dance. A dance for death, a dance for life.

Triptych Chapter 1 : The Ritual

2 Hour Bass Heavy Dub Tower

Out Of My Space Lazer

It is time, the first swords clash, let the battle begin. From afar the threatening collapsing sound is rising, like enormous lead balls rolling downhill hindered by nothing, just the sound of crushing rocks. A cumbersome train packed with a brutal arsenal of weapons comes to a rough halt like a sand-oiled machine. There is no denial, the rythmic expanding of the terratorial grounds. Giving and taking : taking and shaking. Exasperited cries, murmuring female voices: spirits are summoned, spirits are deployed, spirits are slaughtered. Swords cleave throug unruly steal armour. Spears are rhythmically splitting stubborn weathered skulls. As victory is on the rise and the endless stream of blood is meandering away through the riverbed, no one can see where the battle started, where the battle ended. All that is left is the eternal purgatory.

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