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Oral Histories of Faerûn: Gith and Mind Flayers
Oral Histories of Faerûn: Gith and Mind Flayers claims to contain first-hand transcriptions of the oral histories of several storytellers throughout the realm.
This thin tome is bookmarked with scraps of illegibly-annotated scraps of paper.
Properties
Books
Rarity: Common
Weight: 0.5 kg / 1 lb
Price: 14 gp 
UID
BOOK_GEN_Races_OralHistories_MFGithUUID
baed9260-f84f-460e-8450-33fb6bed7ba4
Where to find
- Found by reading Stone Tablets in the Enclave Library X: -442 Y: 40
- Sold by Nansi Gretta
- On a bookshelf in the south-eastern corner of the 4th floor of Arcane Tower X: -31 Y: 296
Text
[This book comprises several chapters, one for each cited source. It claims to contain first-hand transcriptions of the oral histories of several storytellers throughout the realm.]
Chapter 4
Pallidor the Swift
700 years of age
Wood Elf storyteller hailing from the Wood of Sharp Teeth
It took me several tendays of quiet habitation in the wood before the venerable Pallidor felt comfortable revealing his presence to me. The longer I stayed, demonstrating I was no threat to his health and peace, the more open he was to gentle inquiry. This tale, relayed to me on a chilly morning as we stoked a small fire between us, was like none I had heard before or since. I asked if it were fiction and he insisted emphatically it was as true as his own right eye.
Long ago
Before my eyes and ears,
Before your lonesome quill, dear scribe,
There was an empire of people -
Or perhaps only Belief.
An empire of brain-eaters, soul-wasters -
They called themselves illithids;
the flayers of minds.
The children of Gith were bowed,
bent in service to the flayers.
A passionate people
Made to serve a cold Belief.
The flayers were untouchable,
Their minds a great oppressor.
No proud will or passion
Could break Gith's children free.
Until, at last, a reckoning -
Its source unknown; its power, unproven.
But its events, history-making:
The cowed would not be cracked.
Gith's children fought back, valiantly,
Their freedom theirs - the flayers bent,
And broken, till today.