Cold-Blooded American Folk Metal from Cincinnati Ohio
On distant, misty plains, you hear the sound of steel clanking on steel; the gallop of a thousand frenzied horses; the swollen beat of the war drums. You hear some men cry out in victory, but even more cry out in pain as their last breath is forced from their lungs. What you hear, is Winterhymn.
With the fantasy and escapism of Power Metal and brutal bludgeonings of modern Death and Black metal, comes Winterhymn, a soulful monster intent on musical conquest and resotring honor to the name of Heavy Metal. Raise your swords and cheer with us, or ready your knees and fall before us. The invasion has begun.
(Guitar & vocals)
A revenant of forgotten glory and herald of chthonic vengeance, torn from the womb of the earth in a time of dire need. Draug helped to form the fellowship of Winterhymn and lends to it his thunderous guitar and resonating voice.
The cold northern sea breeds cold men, and Varrik is no exception. This traveler has known nothing but stinging salt, roaring waves, and all the terrors that swell beneath them since he was a child. His guitar bellows like a deafening gale.
Often perceived only as a chill on the necks of lone travelers, or a moonlit terror glimpsed between the trees, vanishing in an instant. This sorceress' violin song is courage's bane, cold as iron and dark as a raven's wings.
When the legions of the faceless god first swarmed from the south, those unfortunate enough to survive were enslaved. Swaddled in chains and nurtured by the whip, the child Valthrun was raised to compete in the oppressors' death games for sport for years, before turning upon them and slaughtering the entire outpost. The drums that once drove him to toil are now at his command.
Like the dawn's first rays on the field of battle, Exura is both beautiful and terrible to behold. She is a warrior-priestess of the light, serving as a healing balm to allies and a wildfire to her foes. Her divine melodies pierce even the darkest recesses of the land.
(Bass & Roaring)
The woods of Kjellangor are vast and scarcely populated, avoided as much for their strange beasts and magic as the ferocious tribes that call them home. The feral-raised Alvadar, a paragon of savagery, leads one of these cannibalistic bands. His bass and voice roar with the bloodcurdling aggression of the untamed.