Beautiful and proud 

The ruler of the Undercity 

Vatyra was her name 

She was feared and desired 

 

Beggars, thieves, and murderers 

were falling at her feet, 

As mistress of the castaways 

she was worshiped and revered. 

 

Vintage wine and silken cloth, 

Jewelry and Tongue of Gods, 

any loot and contraband 

were passing through her hand(s),

 

Bribe, deceit and robbery 

no means too vile or foul for her, 

The art of crime she mastered, 

like no one ever had. 

 

Beautiful and proud 

The ruler of the Undercity 

When the night closed in 

she stayed sleepless until dawn 

 

Men, Aeterna, beasts 

they visited her chamber, 

Anyone who quaffed and knew no shame

could join her feasts. 

 

Her heart was empty, cold, and sore, 

yet she craved for more and more, 

So little virtue left in her 

and nothing left to lose.

 

No matter who attended her, 

she raised her chalice in the air. 

Anyone could fill it, 

her thirst would never cease.

 

Beautiful and proud 

The ruler of the Undercity 

Her sinful womb bore fruit 

and horror grew along. 

 

The healers had no remedy, 

No one could prevent, 

Confinement and delivery 

before the moon has waned.

 

Two monsters grew beneath her heart, 

Her body, it was torn apart, 

The Goatheads stilled their hunger 

with their mother's torn remains. 

 

And anyone who was around 

was killed and stomped into the ground; 

And ever since the Vatyrs 

are tainting our world.