30% off on everything in our BandCamp shop if you use the code: “skaal”. Happy Hollydays!
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@faanefjellofficial
30% off on everything in our BandCamp shop if you use the code: “skaal”. Happy Hollydays!
To celebrate our new management and booking deal with THE FLAMING ARTS AGENCY we want to raise our glass to all of our fans! We want to give away a great merch bundle, just head over to www.facebook.com/Faanefjell to participate! SKÅL!
Erlend “Dunker” Nord has joined us on guitar!
A taste of our new material, SORTEMANNENS SKREKK!
Faanefjell Live @ John Dee, Oslo
On our way to John Dee, Oslo. Berserk is showing off his vocal skills.
From our trollcave, we bring you Tre Tinder Bakom Bruer
Det er nu gammelkendt, at hver by har sin heks og hvert sogn sine trolde - men på Faanefjell fortalte man historien om et særligt gammel og ondt troll kaldet Grimtroll. Allerede på min oldefars tid sagde man, at Grimtroll havde levet på Faanefjell i mange hundrede år, og det er da også almindeligt for trolle at blive så gamle at de ser skovene vokse op og elvene skære sig gennem klipperne i deres lange levetid. For troll er et menneskeliv blot et kort sekund, og bygdfolkets visdom blot naiv barnetro. Om Grimtrolls ophav siges det, at der nær toppen af bjerget voksede en stort gammelt gran. Stod man ved foden af træet kunne man fornemme at det voksede ind i nattehimlen, og man vidste at ikke syv mand kunne nå rundt om træet, om de stilte sig rundt om det. Det var intet almindeligt træ, for skovhuggere fra bygden vidste at barken var hård som fjellets granit, og at nålene på træet kunne blive sorte som størknet blod når et menneskeliv i bygden nærmede sin slutning. Engang var en karl fra bygden gået ud med sin økse. Han hed Joakim, og han var kendt i byen som en snu rad. Joakim vidste, at den sorte gran ikke kunne fældes med almindeligt værktøj, og han tænkte at træet var usårligt fordi det voksede ud af klippen selv. Han havde smedet et stort øksehoved af malm fra Faanefjell og lagt det i jorden i syv dage og syv nætter - for han mente at kun bjergets egen styrke kunne fælde den sorte gran. Skaftet tog han fra et asketræ der voksede på kirkegården, for det var vokset op af alle de mennesker hvis død den sorte gran havde varslet. Med dette hellige våben var han fast besluttet på at fælde Sortegranen, for et så stort træ ville kunne give ham brænde til flere år, og gøre ham til den rigeste skovhugger i hele Sørlandet. Da Joakim kom til træet satte han øksen for stammen og huggede til. Ved det første hug slog han end ikke en flig af barken. Ved andet hug begyndte sveden at drive af ham, som havde han hugget i dagevis. Ved tredje hug begyndte han at ryste og skælve som en gammel mand, for han så at alle træets nåle var blevet sorte som kul som ved et trylleslag. Da så Joakim op, og i træets bark så han et ansigt, en maske som stirrede på ham og talte med en hul ryst, der dryppede af tusind års afsky for mennesker. "Hvem er det, som hugger i mig?" spurgte masken. Joakim blev hvid af skræk, og svarede skælvende "Det er mig, Joakim Skovhugger.". "Hug ved rødderne, da tager øksen fat!" sagde træet, og Joakim gjorde som det sagde, for han turde ikke andet. Een rod huggede han, og den knak med et smæld. En anden rod huggede han, og Sortegranen knagede faretruende. I den tredje rod huggede han så dybt, at øksen sad fast i jorden. Men roden var hugget over, og nu svajede træet som skulle det vælte ned over ham. Da Sortegranen var fri for sine rødder delte den nederste del af stammen sig i to, og træet tog et skridt mod Joakim. "Tak, for at have frigjort mig fra klippen," lo træet "men mine nåle er sorte, og et menneskeliv må gå til.". Og med disse ord kvaste Sortegranen, der nu var fri fra klippen, Joakim Skovhugger, så hver en knogle brækkede og blodet flød hele vejen ned til bygden. Historien fortæller nu, at granen, der nu var blevet som en svær troll at se til, tog fat med en stærk gren og knækkede toppen af sig selv. Joakims øksehoved satte det fast på toppen, og da havde det nyfødte troll våben og vilje til at rydde landet for menneskeliv, med hår så sort som størknet blod, hud så hård som granernes bark og et ansigt som en hæslig maske. Det siges, at træet selv valgte navnet Grimtroll, og Grimtroll betyder da også "den maskerede troll" på det gamle sprog, der taltes i kongeriget dengang de første mennesker slog sig ned ved Bygglandsfjorden. Om historien om Grimtrolls ophav er sand ved ingen - men der er ingen i bygden som tvivler på at Grimtroll med Øksen lever på fjellet, for på de lange nætter ud på vinteren hører man ofte øksehug og en hul latter, der drypper af tusind års afsky, dybt i Faanefjells knagende graner. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ English lore: It is old knowledge nowadays that each city has its witch and every parish its trolls - but on Faanefjell there was tales of a particularly old and evil troll called Grimtroll. Already at my great-grandfather's time it was said that Grimtroll had lived on Faanefjell for hundreds of years, as it is common for trolls to be so old that they see forests grow and rivers cut through cliffs in their long lives. To a troll, a human life is merely a brief second, and the wisdom of village dwellers simply childish beliefs. Of Grimtrolls origins it is said, that near the top of the mountain, there was a giant and ancient spruce. Standing at it's foot, one could sense that it grew into the night sky, and one knew that seven men could not reach around it. It was no ordinary tree, for the village loggers knew that the bark was hard as granite from the mountain, and the needles of its branches could become black as clotted blood when a human life in the village neared its end. Once, a fellow from the village went out with his axe. His name was Joakim, and he was known thoughout the town as a cunning man. Joakim knew that the black spruce could not be felled by ordinary tools, and thought the tree to be invulnerable because it grew out if the very rock itself. He had forged himself a large axe head of ore from Faanefjell, and placed it in the ground for seven days and seven nights – he thought that only the very strength of the mountain itself could fell the black spruce. The shaft was taken from an ash tree that grew in the cemetery, for it had grown from all the people whose death the black spruce had foretold. With this sacred weapon he was determined to fell the Blackspruce, for such a large tree would give him firewood for several years, and make him the richest lumberjack throughout the Southlands. When Joakim came to the tree he put the axe to the trunk and swung away. The first blow did not even cut a shred of bark. By the second blow, sweat ran from his body as if he had been chopping for days. At the third swing he began to shake and tremble like an old man, for he saw that all the tree's needles were black as coal, as if by magic. Joakim looked up, and in the bark of the tree he saw a face – a mask that stared at him and which spoke with a hollow voice, dripped with a thousand years of loathing for humans. "Who strikes me?" said the mask. Joakim was white with fear and replied in a trembling voice "It's me, Joakim Lumberjack.". "Strike at the roots for the axe to take hold!" said the tree, and Joakim did as it said, for he dared not do otherwise. He struck one root and it snapped with a bang. He hit another, and the Blackspruce creaked dangerously. At the third root he cut so deep that the axe became stuck in the ground. But the root was severed, and now the tree swayed as if it were to fall on top of him. As soon as the Blackspruce was free of its roots, the lower part of the trunk snapped in two, and the tree took a step toward Joakim. "Thank you for freeing me from the rock," laughed the tree "but my needles are black, and a man's life must end.". And with these words the Blackspruce, now free from the rock, crushed Joakim Lumberjack so that every bone broke and the blood ran all the way down to the village. The story then tells that the spruce, which now appeared as a large troll, took hold with strong branch and cracked the top off of itself. It attached Joakims axe head to the top, and now the new born troll had a weapon and a will to clear the land of human life, with hair as black as clotted blood, skin as tough as the bark of firs and a face like a hideous mask. It is said that the tree itself chose the name Grimtroll, which means "the masked troll" in the ancient language - spoken in the Kingdom at the time when the first humans settled by Bygglandsfjorden. If the tale of Grimtrolls origin is true, no one knows - but none in the village doubt that Grimtroll with the axe lives on the mountain, for in the long nights of winter, one can often hear axe blows and a hollow laugh that drips with a thousand years of loathing, deep in Faanefjells creaking branches.
Iordinn is coming down from Faanefjell to make those annoying churchbells stop ringing.
We are proud to announce our new vocalist Iordinn. Give him a cold welcome! Iordinn lore: En gang for mange år siden fantes en mann som bodde ved roten av Faanefjell. Tidlig en morgen skulle han inn i skogen og jakte, for han levde ene og alene av det skogen gav ham - til gjengjeld sørget han for å ikke ta noe han ikke trengte. Først gikk han til en felle han hadde satt ved et stort tre, men ingen dyr hadde gått i den. Tungsinnet gikk han videre til den andre fellen han hadde satt opp dypere i skogen ved en stor kampestein, men heller ikke der var det noe dyr han kunne ta med hjem. Han visste at enda lengre inne i skogen, like ved fjellveggen, fantes en fallgrop han hadde laget for lenge siden. Han hadde ikke gått dit av frykt for trollene, men ettersom det var midt på dagen og solen stod høyt på himmelen visste han at det var trygt. Etter å ha lett lenge og langt kunne han fortsatt ikke finne hullet, så han bestemte seg for å vende hjem, til tross for at han ikke hadde noe å spise. I det han snudde seg for å gå falt han rett ned i gropen han hadde lett så lenge og vel etter. Fellen var godt laget, så uansett hvor mye han forsøkte kunne han ikke komme seg opp. I frykt så han at solen gikk ned, og han gjorde seg så liten han kunne og sovnet der han lå. Plutselig våknet han av en voldsom rasling i trærne over seg, og så til sin store forferdelse et troll som stod lent over hullet med en stor øks i hånden. Mannen skrek og ynket seg mens han tryglet om at trollet ikke skulle spise ham. Trollet gliste fandenivoldsk til ham og svarte "nei, spise deg skal jeg ikke, men her kan du ikke ligge og sprelle hele natten." Så gikk trollet og hentet en kjempestein, og den kastet han rett ned på mannen slik at begge beina hans ble knust. Når trollet hørte mannens smerteskrik kastet det hodet bakover og lo mens det gikk innover i skogen; for det visste at mannen ikke ville overleve natten. Der han lå under steinen kjente han at dødsfrykten kom, men han visste at det ikke ville hjelpe å rope på hjelp. I sin desperasjon sverget han at han ville gjøre hva som helst for ikke å dø nå. Til hans forferdelse svarte det fra jorden under ham "Du skal ikke dø i natt, men vandre i skogen og fjellet som vår tjener så lenge Faanefjell står. Iordinn skal være ditt navn, troll og vette skal være din frende, og menneskekjøtt skal du ete." Så forsvant mannen ned i jorden, og det sies at mange mennesker senere har forsvunnet på vei forbi steinen ved fjellveggen i Faanefjell. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- English lore: Many years ago, there was a man living at the root of Faanefjell. One early morning we went into the woods to hunt, as he relied solely on what the forest would give him – in return he never took more than what he needed. First, he went to a trap he had set up by a big tree, but it was empty. With a heavy mind, he walked to his second trap he had set up by a large boulder, but it too was void of prey. The man knew that deep in the forest, close to the mountain wall, there was an old pitfall he had made a long time ago. He had avoided going back there of fear of the trolls, but seeing that it was mid-day and the sun was high in the sky, he knew it was safe. After searching long and far he could still not find the hole, and decided to return home despite not having any food. As he turned to leave, he fell straight down into the pit for which he had searched so long and hard. The trap was well made, and no matter how much he tried, he could not get back up. Fearful he watched the sun descending on the horizon, so he curled up and fell asleep where he lay. Suddenly he awoke by a violent rustling in the trees above, and watched in horror as a troll leaned over the hole with a big ax in his hand. The man screamed and moaned as he begged the troll not to eat him. The troll looked down on him with a malicious grin and said "No... Eat you, I will not. But we can’t have you lying here squirming all night." The troll went and fetched a huge stone and threw it straight down at the man, so that both his legs were broken. When it heard the man's screams of pain, it threw its head back and laughed as it went into the forest; it knew that the man would not survive the night. Lying there under the stone, the man felt the fear of death come, but he knew it was hopeless to shout for help. In his desperation, he swore he would do anything to escape death. To his astonishment, he heard a voice beneath him: "You shall not die tonight. Instead, you shall wander the woods and mountains as our servant as long as Faanefjell stands. Iordinn shall be your name, trolls and spirits shall be your allies, and you will feed on the flesh of man" Then the man disappeared into the earth, and it is said that people still disappear on their way past the stone by the mountain wall of Faanefjell.
"HÆX & DJÆVEL" (Witch & Devil), our new single, will be released in just one week. At our release party in Kristiansand, we will be supported by the Danish viking metal horde, Vanir, and we are sure as hell going to make sure you guys have a good time! - - - In Vardø, one of the northernmost Norwegian regions, one of the largest Scandinavian witch trials took place in 1621. This happened after a new law of sorcery and witchcraft was issued in the Danish-Norwegian union, and as a result, many women were burned alive. In Kiberg, a small town in the farthest region of Norway the, Mari Jørgensdatter and Kirsti Sørensdatter, two local women who was believed to be in league with the Devil were burned at the stake. These are historical facts, but our story revolves around a third witch, Maren Hendriksdatter, of whom history holds no account. A fair maid of the township of Kiberg, she had always been accepted by the community, yet feared for her odd behaviour. At some nights, she would venture out into the full moon to gather herbs, and people in Kiberg would say that she could also speak with the trees. One night, she wandered too far from home, and met an elegant man, Old Erik, deep in the woods. Old Erik demanded that she surrendered her most valuable possession before he would let her go home. Maren offered him her golden ring, but Erik declined. "My hill is full of golden jewelry and gemstones, and I have no need for your ring." Then, she offered him her first-born son, but the man declined. "I know that I will see the ocean burning before any man will take you as his wife." Finally, she offered him the one thing that she held dearest - the heart that beat in her maiden chest. The old man smiled, his green eyes ablaze with avarice, and Maren nodded as she let him take what he so desired. The morning after, Maren Hendriksdatter of Kiberg was found in the churchyard, freezing and trembling with a scar on her chest. She never became the same fair maid again, and is said - even today - to roam the woods of Vardø in search for her heart. - - - "HÆX & DJÆVEL" is the story of Maren, and how the devil tricked her into giving up her humanity. We hope you enjoy it. FACEBOOK EVENT: https://www.facebook.com/events/749473178404872/
Trolls, beasts and creatures all around the world! Our drummer Bytting just received photos of his new signature snare drum by Havoc Custom Drums. Looks good, right? We are holding a little competition. All you have to do is give this drum a name in the comment field. The best name will get a signed copy of our album Trollmarsj, a pair of signed drum sticks and a copy of our new single. Go!
The church-doors are being bolted shut as the release-date for Faanefjells new single Hex og Djævel is closing in.
David "Berserk" Olsen has chosen to leave Faanefjell. We wish him good luck in Mental Disaster. Simen "Bytting" Sandnes will be taking his place behind the drums. Give Bytting a cold welcome!
Hex og Djævel is back from studio
We just got our single Hex og Djævel back from studio. Are you ready for some fresh-out-of-the-cave blackmetal?