by: Sarauntra Tynorora, The She-Bard date: 1446 DR source: Bury Elminster Deep And so our just and beneficent ruler smiles On proudest lords in stately conclave met Seeing no little deceit, no shortage of wiles Though they work no open regicide yet. Amn's streets agleam with vengeful blood and tarnished gold, The merchant houses plot with hidden might. Betrayal blooms most where trust is all bought and sold, While spies trade lies beneath fair Selune's light. [Chorus] The Dance of Kings, a deadly spin, Where cunning sings, and none may win. In Waterdeep, the Lords Magister held their reign, The Masked Lords fell to the guilds' hidden blade. Till Baeron rose, unmasking shadows' cruel disdain, Restoring power that Ahgairon made. Inside Baldur’s Gate, power found its transition, Valarken’s fall bred such wicked rebukes. Four Council seats taken only by ambition. The alleyways bleed with murdering Dukes. [Chorus] The Dance of Kings, a deadly spin, Where cunning sings and none may win. In Cormyr’s halls, the noble Obarskyrs survive, Though Foril’s peace make the merchants' divide. The nobles try to keep their ancient lines alive, The Forest Country has rot deep inside. In Tethyr’s court rise the grinning priests of Seer-ick, Their darkened prayers sow fear and secret blight. The royal halls grow cold with lying whispers thick, And daggers gleam within the shadow’s night. [Chorus] The Dance of Kings, a deadly spin, Where cunning sings and none may win. And still the rulers turn upon the stage, A ceaseless waltz where scheme and power clings. The tales endure in every land and age, Forever now trapped in the Dance of Kings.
