The Patron’s Whisper

Somber folk song, serious, dark, thoughtful, lute flute hand drums tambourine sitar

[Intro – slow, ominous lute drone, single low string ringing like a distant pact being sealed, the tavern grows quieter and colder]
[Verse 1 – deep, suspicious growl, almost whispered]
She slips in after midnight, cloak the colour of old blood,
Eyes like broken stars that never quite point where they should.
The rest of us are bleeding, she just smiles that crooked smile,
And the shadows lean in closer like they’ve known her for a while.
We ask her where the power comes from, she only tilts her head,
Says “A friend who never sleeps… and never quite forgives a debt.”
[Pre-chorus – voice drops even lower, lute strings buzz with unease]
We don’t ask what she traded, we don’t ask what she owes,
We just watch the way the darkness seems to do exactly what she knows.
[Chorus – heavy, ominous, slow and crushing, crowd murmurs along]
She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark,
Now the night itself obeys her every single mark.
She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark,
And every time we almost die… she finishes the job with a spark.
Suspicious, dangerous, beautiful and wrong,
But the tentacles and whispers always seem to sing her song.
[Verse 2 – heavier, slower, laced with reluctant awe]
She eldritch-blasts a demon lord while humming an old lullaby,
Turns a lich to smoking ash without even blinking an eye.
We’re still fumbling with swords and spells and holy prayers so bright,
She just signs her name in void-light and the battlefield goes quiet.
We joke she sold her soul, she laughs like shattering glass,
Then the thing that owns her soul laughs louder from the dark, alas.
[Pre-chorus – voice tight with unease]
We sleep with one eye open, we keep a holy book nearby,
But when the horde is breaking through… we’re damn glad she’s on our side.
[Bridge – slowest and darkest, almost spoken over a single sustained dissonant chord]
She never asks for thanks, never asks to stay,
Just collects her little favours in the small hours before day.
One day the price comes due, one day the mask will slip,
But until that final midnight… we’ll let the devil’s favourite rip.
[Final Chorus – heavier still, voice rising into grim respect, lute thundering]
She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark,
And the night itself still kneels before her every mark.
She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark,
We fear her, we need her, we’d die without that spark.
Suspicious, dangerous, beautiful and wrong,
The warlock walks among us… and the darkness sings along.
[Outro – final low chord left to ring and slowly die, like something watching from the rafters]
…Thank the gods she’s on our side.

2652/7500

[Intro – slow, ominous lute drone, single low string ringing like a distant pact being sealed, the tavern grows quieter and colder] [Verse 1 – deep, suspicious growl, almost whispered] She slips in after midnight, cloak the colour of old blood, Eyes like broken stars that never quite point where they should. The rest of us are bleeding, she just smiles that crooked smile, And the shadows lean in closer like they’ve known her for a while. We ask her where the power comes from, she only tilts her head, Says “A friend who never sleeps… and never quite forgives a debt.” [Pre-chorus – voice drops even lower, lute strings buzz with unease] We don’t ask what she traded, we don’t ask what she owes, We just watch the way the darkness seems to do exactly what she knows. [Chorus – heavy, ominous, slow and crushing, crowd murmurs along] She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark, Now the night itself obeys her every single mark. She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark, And every time we almost die… she finishes the job with a spark. Suspicious, dangerous, beautiful and wrong, But the tentacles and whispers always seem to sing her song. [Verse 2 – heavier, slower, laced with reluctant awe] She eldritch-blasts a demon lord while humming an old lullaby, Turns a lich to smoking ash without even blinking an eye. We’re still fumbling with swords and spells and holy prayers so bright, She just signs her name in void-light and the battlefield goes quiet. We joke she sold her soul, she laughs like shattering glass, Then the thing that owns her soul laughs louder from the dark, alas. [Pre-chorus – voice tight with unease] We sleep with one eye open, we keep a holy book nearby, But when the horde is breaking through… we’re damn glad she’s on our side. [Bridge – slowest and darkest, almost spoken over a single sustained dissonant chord] She never asks for thanks, never asks to stay, Just collects her little favours in the small hours before day. One day the price comes due, one day the mask will slip, But until that final midnight… we’ll let the devil’s favourite rip. [Final Chorus – heavier still, voice rising into grim respect, lute thundering] She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark, And the night itself still kneels before her every mark. She made a deal in the dark, she made a deal in the dark, We fear her, we need her, we’d die without that spark. Suspicious, dangerous, beautiful and wrong, The warlock walks among us… and the darkness sings along. [Outro – final low chord left to ring and slowly die, like something watching from the rafters] …Thank the gods she’s on our side.

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