[Verse 1 – The Land Lost] Regaterra once wore a golden crown, Its cities of marble, its kings renowned. Now only ruins and whispers remain, A desert of ash, of stone, and of pain. The mountains burn, the hot winds moan, The sun lies murdered, the skies are stone. Bairal’s laughter poisons the air, And demons breed in the cracks of despair. [Chorus 1 – Wry Hope] So drink to the seekers who march this grave, Through ash and ruin, through lands unpaved. They walk where the sane cry, “Nothing to save,” And hope is the sickness that makes them brave. [Verse 2 – The Rune Desert] Past the walls where merchants hide, Lies the rune desert, vast and wide. Sigils burn in the bones of sand, Cursing the foot and the mortal hand. The earth dragons churn through stone below, Their tunnels collapse, their bellies glow. Cities are swallowed, walls torn down, By monsters crowned with the under-ground. [Bridge – The Survivors] Yet still the city-states cling and sing, Lanterns flicker ‘neath broken wing. A gate, a wall, a tavern’s embrace, The last safe hearths in a godless place. [Chorus 2 – Bitter Celebration] So drink to the seekers who leave the gate, Who bait the horrors, who tempt their fate. The dragons may strike, the demons may sing, But treasure still waits for the Ashen King. [Verse 3 – The Adventurers Appear] The knight with his vows, so proud, so grim, The mage with her fire that devours the dim. The Stern who forgets, yet writes it again, And one more shadow unknown to men. Together they march through Regaterra’s bones, Through deserts of runes and dragon-thrones. Through nights where demons gnaw at the seams, They hunt the wreckage of god-killed dreams. [Verse 4 – Their Folly and Glory] They sleep in ruins, they starve in caves, They laugh at curses, they mock at graves. Each relic they claim burns bright and wild, A crown for a king, or a toy for a child. Yet onward they stagger, half-hope, half-mad, The last true heroes this land ever had. Regaterra groans, but they will not fall, For fools make the finest legends of all. [Final Chorus – Horrible but Hopeful] So drink to the seekers in Regaterra’s sand, Defying the grave of a murdered land. The dragons may rise, the demons may sting, But still they will walk, still they will sing. [Outro – Troubadour’s Laugh] For Regaterra devours all who stay, It eats the strong and it rots the prey. Yet into its maw these heroes stride And hope, the bastard, walks at their side.
