RUN — Fantasy Escape Song | What Non-Heroes Do When The Quest Goes Wrong Tonight

Описание: Hey friend, tonight our tavern brings you a story that bards almost never sing — not about mighty heroes, but about everyone else.
Because let’s be honest: what is a simple villager supposed to do when the world erupts into epic quests?

When monsters roam the roads, when orcs charge from the hills, when whispering necromancers stir in the dark, when furious barbarians rise from their cups…
What happens to those who stand behind the heroes, the quiet lives caught in the echo of someone else’s legend?
What choice do they have?

We don’t know.
No bard truly knows.

And maybe—just maybe—the only answer is the simplest one: jusr run🤔

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A sunny road, a golden day,
The forest hummed its gentle way.
You strolled along with quiet mind,
No hint of trouble close behind.

But far ahead on dusty ground,
Two orcs let out a booming sound.
With axes raised and hungry grin,
They charged as if they meant to win…

Run!
Run, run, run — they’re closing in!
Run, run, run — don’t let them win!
Run, run, run — the night is near!
Run, run, run — flee from the fear!

You came to honor those long gone,
A quiet stone, a peaceful dawn.
You placed your flower, bowed your head,
Among the homes of silent dead.

But then the soil began to rise,
The graves to shift before your eyes.
A muffled groan, a shaking mound —
No wisdom needed at that sound…

Run!
Run, run, run — they’re closing in!
Run, run, run — don’t let them win!
Run, run, run — the night is near!
Run, run, run — flee from the fear!

The tavern shone with song and cheer,
Warm fire glow and hearty beer.
You laughed and thought, “Let trouble wait,”
But fate arrived a little late.

A shoulder bumped, a table shook,
A giant stood with deadly look.
His eyes turned red, his breath a roar —
No need to stay and ask for more…

Run!
Run, run, run — they’re closing in!
Run, run, run — don’t let them win!
Run, run, run — the night is near!
Run, run, run — flee from the fear!

The fog grew thick, the shadows bent,
The bushes twitched with strange intent.
A crooked shape moved down the lane,
Too still, too wrong to seem humane.

Its limbs obeyed no earthly rule,
Its stare burned cold and sharp and cruel.
The night became a hungry grin —
And every instinct cried within…

Run. Run. Run.
Run, run, run — they’re closing in!
Run, run, run — don’t let them win!
Run, run, run — the night is near!
Run, run, run — flee from the fear!

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