Cast out of the warband,
Turned out from His Grace
The skin on his back flayed open,
No longer can he show his face
In the hall where he served his Gwerbret,
Defended him with his life
Came crashing down one mead-soaked night,
A victim of his vice
And so the long road beckons,
His word arm earns his keep,
A Silver Dagger in his belt,
A sign of the Wyrd that he has reaped
Suspicious eyes, they follow,
His shame for all to see
With his head held high in the star-struck night,
Bearing his tattered dignity
O, Silver Dagger, riding the long road through the night
Forsaken Warrior, dishonored, for the coin he fights
Disgraced fallen sell-sword, wandering the rest of his days,
And when he dies in battle, no bard will ever sing his praise
A life of hardship and tales of woe,
Is what awaits him on this long and winding road
A trail of grief, regret, and broken hearts,
A hollow purpose, with honor torn apart
An empty life with bloodstained hands,
A mercenary with no kin, no clan, no hope
Adrift exile, hardened, battle-scored,
He will not rest until his honor is restored
A Silver Dagger’s luck, comes roaring through with pride
A Silver Dagger’s pride, runs deep within his heart
A Silver Dagger’s heart, honor stained for all his life
A Silver Dagger’s life, is the price he pays for his luck