Oral Histories of Faerûn: Paladin Oathbreakers

Oral Histories of Faerûn: Paladin Oathbreakers is comprised of several chapters, one for each cited source. It claims to contain first-hand transcriptions of the oral histories of several storytellers throughout the realm.

A tattered scrap of cloth bearing an image of a rose marks a chapter in this slim volume.

Properties

• Books
• Rarity: Common
•  Weight: 0.5 kg / 1 lb
• Price: 14 gp
• 
  UID

  BOOK_GEN_World_OralHistories_OathbreakerPaladins
  UUID

  8c5d52d8-310e-47c4-8991-dbaf9aafe762

Where to find

• Blighted Village X: 4 Y: 356
• Sold by Nansi Gretta

Text

[This book is comprised of 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 7

Valemor the Outcast

52 years of age

Human paladin (oathbreaker)

Given Valemor's reputation in Athkatla, the city she once called home, I met the former knight-officer of the noble and exclusive Order of the Radiant Heart with no small amount of trepidation. She has lived as an outcast for some years now, and the rumours of her character quite preceded her. I spoke to one of the prelates of the Order, who described her as a dreadful, sadistic traitor, warning me that to find her would be suicide - that she would kill me before I could speak a single word.

He was wrong. When I finally tracked her down, we spoke for hours and I left with her blessing to share her story. I will not disclose our meeting place, as the Order punishes those who violate their vows with beheading.

---

Of course I regret it. Breaking an oath isn't going back on your word - it's not an ethical quandary - it wrenches out a part of your soul. Before? I could call on angels to fight alongside me, I could banish fiends back to the hells and demons to the abyss. All with a thought and a prayer.

I lost my voice. I speak, but this isn't my voice. It's an echo... a whisper.

Tell them this - most days I wish I'd died rather than breaking my oath. But I'd never take back what I did... what I refused to do. Damn the Order. Service became dogma, obedience was virtue, to question was sin.

Justice and duty are uncomfortable bedfellows. And eventually they make bastards of us all.

Notes

See also:

• Oral Histories of Faerûn: Gith and Mind Flayers
• Oral Histories of Faerûn: The Spellplague