For a monarchy of darkened souls, corrupted by the throne on which they recline, the sharp points of gold impaling and poisoning, their every move that of a hollow wraith held to the world now only by desire for power. Atop their tower of bloodstained steel they watch the ants below, deciding their fates with crimson smiles and dagger teeth. Their dance is ancient, their skills unquestionable, their rule absolute, their charm forged of broken skulls beneath their claws.

10 tracks