In the heart of the town's old manor,
Lies a banquet hall of yore,
Where laughter turned to whispers,
And joy became folklore.
The walls are lined with secrets,
Of feasts and whispered lies,
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
Where truth in shadow lies.
The past is buried deeply,
Beneath the soil and stone,
A legacy of darkness,
A history unknown.
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
The tales the old folk spin,
Of secrets held in shadow,
And darkness deep within.
A lineage of sorrow,
A feast of grief and sin,
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
The nightmare must begin.
In the garden stands a graveyard,
With names worn by the years,
The founders and their secrets,
Now haunt us with their fears.
The bastards born of midnight,
In unions kept unseen,
Their bloodline flows with curses,
In shadows cold and mean.
The past is buried deeply,
Beneath the soil and stone,
A legacy of darkness,
A history unknown.
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
The tales the old folk spin,
Of secrets held in shadow,
And darkness deep within.
A lineage of sorrow,
A feast of grief and sin,
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
The nightmare must begin.
The relics tell our story,
The portraits on the walls,
The banquets' fleeting glory,
The shadows in the halls.
We dig into the history,
Unearth the buried past,
To find the key to victory,
To make the darkness last.
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
The tales the old folk spin,
Of secrets held in shadow,
And darkness deep within.
A lineage of sorrow,
A feast of grief and sin,
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
The nightmare must begin.
In the end, we face the horrors,
The truth beneath the veil,
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
Where only the strong prevail.
We’ll fight the shadows’ power,
Until the light prevails,
Of banquets, bastards, and burials,
We’ll weave the final tale.