For him there was no greater fight
The one he lost without the light
For he was strong, forthright and bold
From home to prison, Shadowhold.

Through hordes of evil he would wade
Dispatching justice with his blade
Till the whispers finally caught his ear
He cruelly slew his children dear.

Three daughters fair, and lovely wife
Struck down in passion, filled with strife
For he would take these lands of old
From home to prison, Shadowhold.

Till the Druid of the Boarder Wood
Did what the righteous Sallust Should
He cursed that land of truth unhallow
Home and Castle, fled to Shadow

The Blackguard Sallust waits there still
In the cloven hall beneath the hill
On certain nights when the moon is red
Shadow returns from where it fled

Till the day it comes, the light that burns
And into the halls of gloom returns
To clear the dust, the scrap the mold
From prison to home, comes Shadowhold

But not without what is due the Dead
Nothing less than Sallust's Head
Upon a pike, and facing east
His eyeballs plucked in Raven Feast

But even then, ware what was told
And seek beneath old Shadowhold
For the root of evil runs very deep
And whispers in the ears who sleep.

Darkness is its very breath
The one that brings shadowed death
Beneath the keep, beneath the hill
It lies in wait, it waits there still.

And three daughters and a wife so pale
Sing songs to it in hated wail
Of better times, of love and gold
A time before cursed Shadowhold.

-- From Unfinished Tragedies, Unpublished notes
by Rodriguez of the Tragedians

Desperate dragon;
gnashing of teeth
No rest for the wicked;
in the 'falls beneath.

-- Primula Easterling