Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round my knee and listen to a harrowing tale; one fraught with roaring battleships, icy barrens and vicious beasts wrought from the abyss. It's a tale of two heroes, two men far from home on frozen shores, left with only their wits, a few tattered rags to protect their hides and two tickets to the best Metal show to which this writer has ever borne witness. (Ha! I've always wanted to write something like that.)Seriously though, faithful, hopefully-soon-to-be-cult followers of my fiery Typewriter of Steel may have noticed my occasional mention of Amon Amarth, the Viking Death Metal warriors hailing from the frozen mountains of Tumba, Sweden.

I was about 17 when I picked up their fourth album, Versus the World, and fell in love with their unique blend of crushing Death Metal, Norse mythology and memorable melody. Four years later, I'm still a regular listener and devoted fan, with the exception of the rather tepid Fate of Norns album (Even the band admitted it was a rushed effort.). Though the band has remained largely unchanged in musical style over the course of six albums, I have never tired of their winning formula. Call me a grumpy conservative, but it's refreshing to see a band ignore the trends, stick to its guns and reach the level of success that Amon Amarth has in recent years. Amon Amarth's latest album, With Oden On Our Side, is as faithful to their roots as could be, and yet their popularity is higher than ever, as evidenced by the frothing crowd at the Palladium last Saturday night in Worcester.

Unfortunately, my stoic-yet-deadly companion, Dave "More Metal Than Tinfoil" Goldstein '09, and I arrived late to the venue and missed the opening band, Thy Will Be Done. We did, however, arrive in time to catch the Hindenburg-meets-WWII trainwreck that was Sonic Syndicate's set.

At this juncture, it would be poor form for me to neglect the tragic circumstances under which this all happened. Originally, Polish Brutal Death Metallers Decapitated were meant to be on the tour, until a violent bus accident in Belarus Oct. 29 took the life of their talented drummer, Witold "Vitek" Kie?tyka. It was under this cloud that Sonic Syndicate had to take the stage before the headliners.

Pushing a radio-friendly, emo-laced bastardization of Melodic Death Metal, complete with a Hot Topic/Urban Outfitters wardrobe and hairstyles, Sonic Syndicate were dead on arrival in front of the sea of black shirts with indecipherable logos. Though I'm sure this style of music (I won't call it Metal) has its place somewhere, the Palladium, with its crowd of meat-and-potatoes Metalheads, was not it. The crowd was colder than the winter winds outside the doors, not a single head bobbing in the whole joint. But that was just the beginning. After a few songs, raised middle fingers spread like fire throughout the crowd, followed by a venue-wide sit-down. Though that reaction was somewhat harsh and distasteful, Sonic Syndicate had no business at this show, especially as a replacement for a true Metal act like Decapitated.

Mean as it may sound, the Sonic Syndicate train wreck was the perfect prelude to Amon Amarth's pure Metal storm. As the orchestral intro played over the P.A., and the banner, sporting a Runic representation of Oden on his anatomically correct eight-hooved horse, the entire venue raised its horns and prepared for the coming assault. It was the most Metal moment of my life.

Amon Amarth's material is made for the live arena, and when the band finally took the stage and tore into "Valhall Awaits Me," the crowd surged into a sea of whipping hair and flailing bodies that shook the whole building. They followed up with the title track from their last album and "Death in Fire" from Versus the World, before the imposing frontman, Johan Hegg, took a moment to address the crowd. Tastefully eschewing any mention of the band before him, Johan stirred the crowd even more with cries of "Let me hear you scream METAAAAAAAAAAAL!!!!" before launching into 90 minutes of Death Metal bliss.

Few acts can boast a more complete and cohesive lineup than Hegg, guitarists Olavi Mikkonen and Johan Soderberg, bassist Ted Lundstrom and drummer Fredrik Andersson. Maintaining the same lineup for five out of six albums is no small feat in the Metal world, and their well-developed chemistry was out in full force. As the crowd sang (that is, shouted hoarsely) along with every word, the band engaged in some classic Metal choreography, drawing waves of horns from the audience.

The band touched on material from every album,the sign of a consistently excellent act, and every song was treated like the band's biggest hit. After the awe-inspiring "Runes to My Memory," the band departed, only to return for a devastating encore of "Victorious March," "An Ancient Sign of Coming Storm" and the sing-along "Pursuit of Vikings."

I couldn't have asked for a more perfect show. Just the right length, with no dead spots or filler songs, Amon Amarth had the crowd eating out of their hands for every minute. If I had only one complaint, it would be the two skinheads who thought it would be funny to give the Nazi salute to an African-American bouncer during one of the chanting sections. However, rumor has it that they were taken outside and beaten senseless by the rather intimidating Palladium strongmen. Perfect.