"Black Hawk" genre: Film Music
	lo fi play (dial-up) hi fi play (broadband) download (3.9 MB)	email track to a friend	add to My.MP3
	(11.08.02) I guess this was based loosely off BHD? Anyway, wild crazy bashing piano mixed with heavy bass strings and Pizz strings. Typical intense in its own right.
	MP3.com CD: Fallen Legions - buy it! Credits: justin r. durban
	Story Behind the Song (11.08.02) I guess this was based loosely off BHD? Anyway, wild crazy bashing piano mixed with heavy bass strings and Pizz strings. Typical intense in its own right. This is story that the talented Writer Justin Adkins had to say about it.. The dark spray hisses as the jagged bolt of hot, white lightning slaps against the cresting waves that hammers the ship far onto its side. The air suddenly comes to life, screaming and wailing as a small, stealthly colored mass rockets by overhead. He turns his head, watching as the sphere explods against the searing foam. Not waisting another breath or heartbeat, he turns to his panicked crew and shouts out new orders. The half dozen men he could see in the waining light of the fiery spears stabbing the air as they stretched from the clouds glance back at him, listening as he points towards the swollen blackness to the port side of the ship. The sails cough and stretch further outward as they catch the new wind. The ship tacks hard, rolling further on its side. A gueyser of boiling foam erupts into the air near the bow. A crewman screams as his skin blackens and blisters under the searing ocean water, melting off his muscle and flesh. The captain turns at the sound of it, looking back towards the front of his ship and past the edge and into the darkness swallowing the sea around them. His eyes narrow, peering sharply into the rainy abyss. He doesn't need to strain his eyes hard. Instantly the misty shadows retreat from the massive body of another ship. It looms above the foaming seascape like an angry giant. He swallows hard feeling his pulse race. His crew panics more. Lightning seems to be drawn into it, striking it but causing no apparent damage-feeding it perhaps, he thinks wildly. His thoughts vanish though as the heavy-hearted whistle of an artillery round soaring through the cold air fills his ears. His eyes lock onto the black sphere as it rockets in a nearly perfect arch toward his ship, over his head and then down with amazing speed. His feet are already moving forward away from the stern when the black ball crashes through the soggy wood. The night was silent for only another moment before the entire back side of his ship disappears. A thunderous clap-louder than any call of lightning-deafens his ears as a gold and crimson bubble of fire and wood explodes. The bow pitches upward. Crewman stumble and slip, some unable to stop before they are swallowed by the snarling, groping flames. The captain doesn't watch. He can't. The air cries again. Another shot is fired. The white plume swirls lazily away from the dark mass ahead of them. Water explodes behind the smoldering ruins of the stern. The captain narrows his eyes with great resolve and stands up. He looks quickly at his crew. They are scared. There is nothing left to do. They had sworn to protect the coast from the invading fleet. He knew his ship was dying. The heat of the growing fire told him so. But the white crested sails of the revered Blackhawk would not be forgotten. The black bird of prey would be the last thing those on the other ship ever saw. He is certain of that. The crew watches as their captain takes hold of the wheel. His orders fall on anxious ears. They obey, their fear slowly aswaged by his stubborness, his bravery. The Blackhawk is still alive. It cuts through the hissing water that beats against it, battling in alliance with the shadowy vessel. His eyes always stare ahead, locked onto the decks of the monster in the water before them. The wind howls and moans, kicking the sails harder, spreading the wings of the ebony bird on the sails so it looks as if it is truly flying for in many ways it is. Its prey is in sight. The startled cries of the enemy crew buzz in the air. The captain smiles, ordering his crew to hang on. He never closes his eyes, even as the two ships collide; his bird catching its meal and clawing deeply into it. Cannons fire somewhere in the depths of the two ships. Thunder bellows once, twice, three and four and five times in rapid succession. Smoldering plumes of white fire spring up from the wooden skin of each ship. The captain closes his eyes and smiles as the final explosion from his ship tears the enemey in two. Those on the coast sigh with sadness and thankful relief as the darkness of the night swallows the last smoldering remains of the enemy fleet. -JustinAAdkins@aol.com

Copyright notice. All material on MP3.com is protected by copyright law and by international treaties. You may download this material and make reasonable number of copies of this material only for your own personal use. You may not otherwise reproduce, distribute, publicly perform, publicly display, or create derivative works of this material, unless authorized by the appropriate copyright owner(s).