Every Wretched Soul

[Verse 1] Fourth in the venomous line of succession, where sisters devoured each other in blind obsession. The Matron’s gaze passed over my shadowed face, while I studied the fractures in their brittle grace. They offered Lolth hearts on altars of bone, I offered silence and schemes of my own. No goddess’s whisper, no bloodied decree — just intellect honed like a razor in me. [Chorus] From fourth-born exile to Matron enthroned, the city’s black spires will soon be my own. With threads of intrigue that none can untame, every worthless soul will know my name. [Verse 2] Now warriors kneel while the priestesses scheme, but my orders drift in like a half-heard dream. Alliances twisted through caverns unknown, where faerzress glows and the myconids groan. They chase simple power with blade and with rite, I bend expectation till wrong becomes right. Their predictable hunger, their arrogant pride — I turn them to weapons they wield at my side. [Chorus] From fourth-born exile to Matron enthroned, the city’s black spires will soon be my own. With threads of intrigue that none can untame, every hollow soul will know my name. [Bridge] One city is nothing, a single black vein — the Underdark pulses for me to reclaim. Through tunnels of shadow and lakes of pure dark, my influence spreads like a venomous mark. Lolth may be watching with eight eyes agleam, but even the Spider will bow to my dream. [Final Chorus] From fourth-born shadow where power was claimed, to ruler of depths where the lost are unnamed. The whole wretched realm will echo the same: every wretched soul will know my name. Every wretched soul… will know my name.