Session 2

[Verse 1 – The Setup] They gathered where the shadows creep, while city children vanished deep. A stakeout planned with cautious breath, to hunt the hands that played with death. Steel and spell, and silent vows— they braced for truth the night allows. [Verse 2 – The Lie and Fallout] The cleric lied with venom thin, to Lenny’s grin, he played to win. But elven slurs, though slyly meant, still drew their ire, not their consent. Their anger flared—a sweeping strike! But missed the mark, as chaos spiked. The monk went down with quiet grace, surprised to find his prone-faced place. The cleric sighed, then raised a prayer, a ward of peace hung in the air. He shielded monk from further harm— a holy calm, a sacred charm. [Chorus – Group Tension] Ohhh in silence deep, mistrust can bloom, and righteous hearts can spark their doom. But grudges fade when stakes run high, and children’s laughter’s turned to cry. With fists and faith and dream and tree, they march toward what truth might be. [Verse 3 – The Druid’s Thread] The druid walked through slums and shade, to seek the truths the silence made. She spoke with crows in cloaks of dust, and gleaned what hints the kenku’d trust. The blind bird spoke of things half-seen, of pages moved and shadows keen. The druid listened, wove her thread— and followed where the silence led. [Verse 4 – The Cleric and the Pact] Then rose the cleric, sly and cold, with words like silk and lies grown bold. He spoke with fish-folk, strange and sly, and asked them where the children lie. “I’ll let you take the books you crave, just let me walk the paths you pave.” They blinked, agreed, and slithered wide— unknowing pawns in plans he’d hide. [Verse 5 – The Monk’s Dream] The monk lay still in dreaming land, when shadows reached with unseen hand. A voice that whispered, cold and deep: “Forget the kids, let grown folk weep.” It showed a mine, a courtyard wide, the missing children safe inside. “Let go,” it said, “the past is gone,” but dreams like these don’t fade by dawn. [Final Chorus – United Front] Ohhh with truths half-spoken, dreams half-lied, the party walks, still unified. The druid wary, the monk in thought, the barbarian, justice hot. The cleric cloaked in guiltless schemes— all bound beneath the children’s screams. They’ll chase the trail through dusk and dread— to bring the stolen home instead. [Outro – The Dice Know Blood] So ends the tale, but fate’s not done, the dice still roll with every run. For truth’s a path we carve in stone, but luck will guide the seeds we’ve sown. With every roll, the road’s unclear— each choice a step, both far and near. The gods may watch, their eyes a gleam, but what we seek is not the dream.