(Bardcore Song Version)
Oh, Shadows of Ash, they danced through the night,
With goblets of laughter and rumors for fight.
Through portals and parlors, through ghost-haunted halls,
They gambled with fate at the monster's grand ball.
The feast had not started, yet chaos had reigned,
With nuggets and madness and mythics explained.
Spend them on chessboards or lose to despair,
In a castle where portals could swallow the air.
Vasuki and Kirk rolled bold with glee,
Kalulah found "luck" of a different degree.
Gamblers cheated, players outplayed,
While fortunes were lost and ravens swayed.
Oh, Shadows of Ash, they danced through the night,
With goblets of laughter and rumors for fight.
Through portals and parlors, through ghost-haunted halls,
They gambled with fate at the monster's grand ball.
Statues were sleeping, not dead as they seemed,
"Beautiful eyes" through diplomacy gleaned.
No treasure, no titles, just dust and despair,
In a lonely old attic with silence to spare.
One door was knocked, one bargain was bled,
Cantus gave his blood to the not-quite-dead.
Grimshank, they learned, was the feast's prized beast,
To chain or to free—beauty or beast.
Through portals they stumbled, through spells misaligned,
Ropes tied to hopes as their fates intertwined.
A hallway, a bedroom, a portal ajar—
Magic roulette in a castle bizarre.
Cantus played songs for the ghostly parade,
While chairs flew and tempers frayed.
"Join us!" he cried — some spirits did sway,
But rage ruled the dead at the end of the day.
Oh, Shadows of Ash, they danced through the night,
With goblets of laughter and rumors for fight.
Through portals and parlors, through ghost-haunted halls,
They gambled with fate at the monster's grand ball.
Grimshank, they found, was no villainous brute,
But a dreamer who longed for a kingdom’s salute.
Peace through strength was the hope in his hands,
Not conquest by fangs or blood-soaked lands.
Elsewhere Linnolaithe joked with the hags,
Offending them faster than cheap merchant brags.
Not every encounter a victory made,
But at least a good story was gallantly laid.
In ivy-lit gardens, they plotted and planned,
To fracture the vampires' cold-blooded band.
Whispers and rumors to scatter like seeds,
Before the feast fed the vampires' greed.
Masks on their faces, schemes on their breath,
The Shadows of Ash stepped lightly with death.
For a wedding approached—with daggers unseen,
And only the bold would walk from the scene.
Oh, Shadows of Ash, they danced through the night,
A tale spun in blood, in whispers, in light.
Through portals and peril, through goblins and thrall,
They gambled—and lived—at the monster's grand ball.