Silver Sword of Git. In the Footsteps of Legendary Weapons
A quiet place, peaceful. Shelves rise high, filled with countless books. This is the greatest library of the material plane, where works written in various languages on all kinds of topics are gathered. In the dim light of dying candles, one could only make out a huge table littered with ancient tomes and the hunched figure of an old man bent over one of the volumes. His hooked nose was literally buried in a thick handwritten book. On the yellowed pages, it was barely possible to discern the letters inscribed by someone's painstaking hand.
The old man crookedly smiled and ran his finger along the top line.
- I have made a foolish mistake, believing that everything would be so simple. To find the sword, their greatest treasure, a relic they revere as much as the Warbringer herself. I have encountered hundreds of Githyanki: mages and warriors, even knights wielding silver swords... yet none of them had what I so desperately wished to possess. The Sword of Gith. I wandered through the planes, collecting scraps of information about the blade until I finally learned of its appearance on the Prime Material Plane.
A quiet knock distracted the old man. He looked at the door but did not divert his attention, turned the page, and shuddered. Weird creatures glared at him with hatred. Their yellowish, speckled skin evoked disgust. Dark, pupil-less eyes frightened and attracted at the same time. A small, almost invisible nose, pointed ears, and a slender physique made the Githyanki resemble starving elves. One of them held a sword in hand—the very blade that could instantly kill any astral traveler by severing their thread of life. Such swords are the pride of the Githyanki. They are given only to chosen warriors, the most loyal followers of the lich-queen Vlaakith. They are not just swords, but weapons of liquid silver, which change shape in the hands of their owners, adapting to the perfect balance for them.
Githyanki are humanoid creatures of roughly human proportions but incredibly thin, almost skeletal. Despite their frailty, Githyanki are physically stronger than humans and possess better reflexes but are more temperamental and less patient. They have yellowish (rarely gray) skin, dark eyes, red or black hair, which Githyanki typically braid into a pair of pigtails. This people attach great significance to their appearance, especially to their adornments. Their armor and weapons always have decorative elements; Githyanki of any gender wear more jewelry (often in the form of piercings) the higher their status.
Githyanki inhabit the Astral Plane. They highly value freedom and look down upon other races that did not earn it in battle against their enslavers. Furthermore, Githyanki regard races that do not place a high value on freedom as potential aggressors. Two peoples are particularly hated by Githyanki—the illithids, their former masters, and the closest relatives of the children of Gith, the Githzerai.
Githzerai and Githyanki share a common root—the progenitor race, once enslaved by a vast planar empire of illithids. The masters needed slaves to perform menial labor and whose brains would serve as food for them. And the progenitor race, having been in slavery for generations, virtually lost its will. Nevertheless, through many generations of slavery, there arose individuals among the progenitors capable of contemplating rebellion. The leader of the armed uprising became the warrior Gith, after whom the Githyanki named their race (the word "Githyanki" translates from their language as "children of Gith"). As a result of the full-scale uprising, the empire of illithids lost a substantial portion of its power and found itself on the brink of destruction, while the freed progenitors fled to other Planes. Their primary new dwelling became the Astral.
However, when the question of further courses of action arose, a schism began among the former slaves. By that time, Gith had left the rebels to settle her debt to the dark goddess Tiamat, and her will was proclaimed by the goddess's envoy. Gith's followers demanded not to stop at their achievements and to fight the illithids until their complete destruction. Others, led by Zertimon, argued that such a path would turn the former slaves into something resembling illithids and distort their ideals. In the course of the subsequent conflict, Zertimon was killed, and the united progenitor race split into two branches. Those who supported Gith were called Githyanki and united under the rule of Vlaakith (Gith herself, according to various versions, either did not return from Tiamat or was forced to return to her immediately after proclaiming her will and killing Zertimon). This people remained in the Astral. Those who followed Zertimon's ideas (about one third) settled in Limbo.
The Githyanki culture is martial; the state established by the descendants of the revolted slaves pays special attention to combat skills and readiness to defend themselves. Any Githyanki is taught to wield weapons from the age of four, and from the age of eight, if they show appropriate talents, magic or psionics. Trained Githyanki warriors receive a chosen weapon. The role of combat training is quite significant— for example, the concept of family does not exist among Githyanki, and the closest analogue is a group of sparring partners. Githyanki place special emphasis on weapon-making—the work of a master weaponsmith is highly valued, and Githyanki-made weapons are famous across all the Planes. The wide distribution of weapons is hindered only by the fact that the Githyanki consider it a disgrace for their weapons to fall into the hands of a foreigner and rarely engage in deals. The loss of a warrior's chosen weapon is an indelible disgrace for both them and their comrades, who usually make titanic efforts to regain the lost. Those who dare to steal a blade are called Kalak-Cha. Githyanki pursue these unfortunate souls until they recover the sword.
- It is said that knight-swordbearers hold a special position in Githyanki society and report directly to the queen; they are responsible for finding lost swords. Githyanki are a strange folk. They care so much about the preservation of their dearest swords that they are ready to die for it. At least, that is what that Githyanki who met me on my path said. This was during my journey to the Gates of Baldur. It was then that I received a magnificent silver blade—a unique weapon with no equal across the planes.
This silver sword of the Githyanki emits a dark glow in battle and is so sharp that it can sever a head with a single blow.
In **"Baldur\`s Gate II"** there are numerous secret artifacts that can be forged by the dwarf Cromwell if the party can find the necessary components. Although the silver sword does not deal as much damage as other artifacts, its shearing capability that instantly kills enemies makes it an indispensable weapon for the warrior in your group.
Silver Sword
Attack: +3
Damage: 1D10 +3
Type: Two-handed
Feature: Twenty-five percent chance of a shearing strike.
- There is none equal to it... but there are those that surpass it—the Sword of Gith. A legendary blade, the sword of their leader, forged by Zertimon. I spent countless years searching, but I finally discovered where the blade was located. It had fallen into the hands of a warrior from Nesme, Rannek. Did he know what wonder had come to him? The sword accepted him and helped destroy the great lord of slaads, Yagorl. Oh, how happy I was to learn that the sword had found its way into the hands of a simple man! To take it from the Githyanki, who were already following me due to the silver blade of their fallen kin—that was one thing. To wrest the greatest weapon from a stupid barbarian was another entirely. But I underestimated this man. His trail went cold, and with it went my hope of finding the Sword of Gith.
Forgotten Realms: Demon Stone
The Sword of Gith occupies a central place in the plot of "Forgotten Realms: Demon Stone", although the player will not know it until the very end of the game. The lord of slaads, Yagorl, yearned to obtain the artifact to enhance his power. Meanwhile, the sword was held by Cirik, a general of the Githyanki. The two fought over the sword, sending armies against each other. The slaughter continued until it spilled over into the world of Toril, where the great mage Khelben Arunsun imprisoned the opponents in a magical stone. When a group of adventurers traveling the world freed them, the battle resumed and continued until Cirik was killed by the red dragon Kaminus. Rannek of Nesme, one of the adventurers who got the blade, used it to kill Yagorl.
- And again, endless searches, endless battles. And again, I was outpaced. Ammon Jerro, the greatest sorcerer of all I knew. I learned much about him when I realized that Ammon had outmaneuvered me. As it turned out, he was always one step ahead. He consorted with demons while I neglected that. The outcome was dire for me—the sword was found not by me.
The legendary sword in the hands of the sorcerer Ammon Jerro (right).
- Ammon Jerro did not possess the blade for long. He went to great lengths to find it: negotiating with Githyanki, demons, and even with the ancient crystalline dragon Nolalotkaragasquint. Finally, Ammon reached his goal. Not for himself, but for others, the fool! He needed this sword to defeat the Shadow King, the guardian of Illefarn, the ancient empire that had gone mad and become a threat to the world. Only this sword could pierce his armor and destroy him. In the battle by the village Westhaven, they clashed. The Shadow King was defeated, but curse the gods! The sword was destroyed, shattered into useless shards! Nine worthless shards that scattered across the land. One of them lodged in the chest of a local child. If I had known what role this child would play in the history of the Sword.... But now, years later, it is too late to regret the past.
The child grew up. The Githyanki returned, they always return, these little filthy parasites, arrogantly thinking they alone have a right to the Sword. The Githyanki’s attack on the Haven prompted a new chapter in the history of the Sword of Gith. I must give credit to this peasant. The Kalak-Cha, pursued by enraged Githyanki, ultimately gathered all the shards and brought them to the site of the Shadow King’s fall.
I would like to draw attention to the ritual conducted by the Githzerai to restore the Sword of Gith. The sword was reforged by the will and consciousness of its owner. It gained new power due to the composite blade, but as the last shard remains in the chest of Kalak-Cha, the sword could not be fully restored.
Your mind must be clear and focused. Your thoughts, your heart will become the forge where the sword will be shaped. Listen to my voice, grip the hilt of the sword, and close your eyes. Listen not only to my words but to the meaning hidden within them. The will of Zertimon, my will, your will. We become one. In this place, destroyed by shadow, carved deep in the earth. Born of two peoples. That which was once divided. Make one what was shattered, with the heart that directs the will. The will that guides the hand. And the hand... that guides the blade. Now the sword lives only for you. You no longer carry the Heart of the sword. Now you are its Heart. Your will, your heart drive this sword, give it strength... without them this sword would remain a pile of shards.
Neverwinter Nights 2
Characteristics of the Sword
Weight
4
Cost
Priceless
Size
Medium
Damage
1d8
Type of Damage
Slashing
Critical Damage
19-20/x2
Special Properties:
Base Element: Universal Sword
Charges: 3
Material: Metal (alchemical silver)
Bonus to Improvement: +3
Special Abilities:
Storm of Blades
The blade can be reformed and directed as shards, striking all enemies in the specified area with stunning speed. Each strike can knock an enemy down for 6 seconds after dealing 6d6 damage. If the sword's ability is aimed at a single target instead of an area, the damage will be dealt for a more extended period. (Requires 1 charge)
Shard Barrier
The sword breaks into shards that begin to whirl around the Bearer, dealing 3d6 damage every three seconds to anyone approaching. Enemies caught within the circle of shards risk being temporarily blinded, stunned, or slowed. (Requires 1 charge)
Shard Rain
With a swing, the shards can be directed at a single target. After striking, the shards return to the hilt and form the Sword again. With good luck, each shard can deal 1d3 +1 damage. (Infinite usage)
Reforming the Sword
When Storm of Shards or Shard Barrier is active, using this ability can prematurely end their effects.
Meditative Restoration
In a safe place, the Shard Bearer can focus on the shards to restore their connection. This will charge the sword.
- What irony! After the strongest of the Githyanki seeking the sword—Ziyeri—was killed by the Shard Bearer, they ceased their pursuit of the Kalak-Cha. Even the returning Shadow King was unfortunate: the great Sword of Gith stood against him once more. This time, the Guardian did not leave alive. The Kalak-Cha was buried beneath the ruins of the fallen fortress.
I searched long for the body of the Shard Bearer among the ruins of the Shadow King’s fortress. I hoped to claim the sword, but I was deceived once more. Cunning, vile wizards of Tey! They snatched the body of the Kalak-Cha just before the centuries-old machine collapsed upon him. My search took me to Rashem, the land of berserkers, where I learned an intriguing feature of the Sword of Gith.
Somehow, it, besides its incredible power, serves as the key to the Traitor's gate of the Fugu plane, located in the temple of Myrkul in the Shadow Mulsantir. This gate was used by the traitor Akachi to rescue the soul of his beloved from the Wall of the Unbelievers, where those who have renounced the gods go. A fool... when you hold a tool of such power, can you really waste it on such thankless and ridiculous tasks? Foolish wizards... yet they are clever, having ripped away the last shard and restored the sword. Now it has regained its former power, might. Beautiful, even more dangerous, yet still loyal to its former owner.
The Neverwinter Nights 2: Mask of the Betrayer
Characteristics of the Sword
Weight
4
Cost
Priceless
Size
Medium
Damage
1d8
Type of Damage
Slashing
Critical Damage
19-20/x2
Special Properties:
Base Element: Universal Sword
Charges: 6
Material: Metal (alchemical silver)
Spell: 2 charges per use,
Spell on Hit: Unique Power, Level 25 (With each hit, the sword grants a 20% chance of dealing cold damage, a 20% chance of sonic wave.)
Spell: Sword Form 2 uses per day
Sharp
Damage Bonus: Slashing 1d12
Bonus Damage against Race: Outsiders 1d12
Immunity: spells affecting the mind, paralysis
Special Abilities:
Cold Fury
Three rays of frost direct toward a single target. If all three rays successfully hit, an ice explosion occurs, dealing damage to all nearby foes.
Infinite Resonance
Powerful sound waves radiate from the Bearer in a circular radius, dealing large damage and knocking down enemies who fail their saving throw.
Unity of Will
All creatures nearby come under the sword's influence. Allies receive bonuses akin to the spell "Heroism." Enemies fall under the effect of the spells "Fear" and "Dispel Despair."
Unbreakable Circle
The Bearer is protected from physical damage and magical attacks as if under the effect of the spells "Premonition" or "Mage Armor."
Best Recovery
The Bearer heals as if the spell "Greater Restoration" or "Regeneration" was used.
Sword Form
The Bearer can change the blade for various effects several times a day.
Penetrating Ability
For a short time, all physical damage dealt by the sword becomes maximum.
Defensive Ability
For a short time, the sword grants a significant bonus to the Bearer’s armor class.
Anti-Magic Ability.
For a short time, with each hit and strike at the target, a "Mordenkainen's Disjunction" spell may be cast on the creature.
- Why are they all so fixated on this Kalak-Cha? This bold child, who by the will of fate became embroiled in this absurd game? "He managed to subdue the Sword of Gith" - a foolish justification.
I had nearly forgotten my goal when I arrived in Rashem. The soul of the bearer was imprisoned in the Wall of the Unbelievers, and in its place was seated the curse of all Rashem—spirit-eater. Bravo! I could not have imagined such a thing. At least one story brightened my search. This peasant opened the passage to the plane of Fugu, reclaimed his soul, and defeated the Traitor, and then... vanished! Cursed be he! The Githyanki are on my tail, convinced that the Sword of Gith is in my possession. Nonsense, nonsense...
The records abruptly ended. Frowning, the old man began rapidly turning the pages in search of other notes. The knock at the door repeated—now more insistently and louder. The candles were burning low, the hum growing... Suddenly, the doors swung open, and the wind extinguished the feeble flames. In the dying light, a silver blade shimmered. Someone hissed:
- Return to us the silver sword!
A sheet fell from the table, which remained unread... A story that became proverbial for all who thirsted to possess the silver sword. The tale of Gith and of Gith...
*by James Wyatt*
Gith's Eyes.
They were near—Kedzira could sense them.
The corner of the warrior's mouth tilted up in a grim smile. She remembered the times when any creature of darkness warned her of its presence by its scent—a burning stench, a trace of sulfur from the lower planes. But that was before.
Now only the Githyanki irritated her nostrils. She claimed she could smell them a mile away and probably wasn’t exaggerating. More than once she had prepared for an encounter with them when they emerged from the astral plane to attack her.
Yes, she had lost her impeccable sense of evil. She had lost the holy power that once flowed through her hands, her sword, her heart, and helped crush servants of evil. She had lost much of what she once relied on.
She had lost Paulon, who had been her sworn brother for ten years and ten scores of adventures.
And what did she gain upon her return? She silently spat, vaguely noting the blood staining the cold stone at her feet.
She gained such hatred that it coursed through her veins, like the holy power once did. She gained an insatiable thirst for vengeance. She gained a fury like the whirling blade of an erinyes, and even the cruel Githyanki trembled as she charged at them with a scream of rage.
She gained the hatred that consumed her from within.
Kedzira walked, ears pricked and sword held in her right hand. Her eyes vaguely noted the ornate carvings adorning the walls of the tunnel. She doubted the Githyanki constructed this underground fortress, but they had certainly made it their home. She caught glimpses of familiar images—a familiar storyline depicting the Githyanki uprising against their mindflayer masters, scenes of brutal cruelty.
Suddenly, she stopped. One relief stood out from the others: a detailed depiction of Gith, the warrior who led the uprising. Kedzira had never seen such images of Githyanki. Most were flat, stylized, but not this one. This depiction was as close to reality as possible; one could discern even the smallest details of the tattered armor.
Yet it was Gith's eyes that drew Kedzira’s attention. They burned with hatred, with the wild passion that fueled the revolution. Kedzira lost herself for a long moment, drowning in those eyes.
She tightened her grip on the sword before she understood why. The Githyanki appeared from the air, two by two, mere meters from her and charged forward. Their silver swords glittered in the light of Kedzira's lantern. She brought her sword down on the nearest foe's head, but he blocked the strike. Kedzira grimaced. An opponent of such weakness would be cut in half by that blow. These opponents were clearly more worthy.
As she spun, parrying four silver swords in a complex dance, another two Githyanki emerged behind the first wave. These were necromancers, supporting the knights with their vile spells. Even though she had dealt with one of them and hurled his bloodied corpse at one of the spellcasters, her heart froze.
The bubbling rage in her head surged into her muscles and erupted from her mouth in a silent scream. All the Githyanki were stunned—the nearest ones stepped back a pace. Kedzira seized this opportunity to quickly dispatch them one by one. Only one knight remained. He did not hurry to attack and cautiously circled as the two sorcerers hurled globs of purple-black darkness at Kedzira.
The darkness gnawed at her body and soul, sending waves of emptiness and despair through her frame. In a spasm of pain, she threw her head back; her eyes met Gith's eyes for a moment, and she felt her rage rising, helping her resist the darkness. She shouted a spell that desecrated her ears as she still clung to the virtues of paladins. Giving voice to her despair, she bore it heavily on the shoulders of her foes. Seeing them bend beneath the weight, she smiled.
Now the knight attacked, and Kedzira rushed to intercept him. She lowered her head and drove her shoulder into the enemy's stomach, knocking the breath out of him, lifted him from the ground, and threw him into the wall next to Gith. Then she stepped back and drove the blade into his chest until she heard the clash of metal against stone.
- Gath-kaa du'shakhut ka-Gith'shai — hissed one of the sorcerers, widening his eyes. Kedzira did not know the language of her sworn enemies, but something in the sorcerer's face revealed the significance of his words. She looked at the sorcerer who spoke and dashed at the other one trying to cast a spell to cut his throat.
She turned to face the last enemy. He recoiled as she killed his last compatriot and stood there where barely any light from the lantern reached. Kedzira could not see his shadow-hidden face. She thrust her sword ahead of her, aiming the point at the heart of the sorcerer.
- What did you say to me? — she demanded. - Answer before you die by my sword.
The Githyanki did not respond, and Kedzira took a step forward. The lantern secured over her shoulder illuminated his face. His gaze flickered from Kedzira's face to the relief behind her.
- Answer! — Kedzira roared.
The sorcerer whispered silently, but then regained his voice and repeated:
- You fight with the fury of Gith herself.
Kedzira stepped forward, and the last Githyanki died.
Her anger did not wane, and she turned to the ornate carving.
- You! — she shouted, directing her sword at Gith’s heart. – This entire cursed nation—it's your fault!
She looked at the relief, as if expecting a rebuttal, but Gith's eyes simply watched her, reflecting her own rage.
She lunged forward and drove her sword into the chest of the figure on the wall. Her anger drowned out the icy fear as the blade sank into the stone, pulling her along with it. The last thing she saw before the darkness enveloped her was the carved eyes flaring with fury.
Kedzira floated in an icy darkness that the lantern’s light did not disperse. The darkness pressed against her skin like cold flesh. She could not determine if her limbs still obeyed her. She attempted to twist, to run, at least to touch her face with her hand. The enveloping darkness did not change, continually pressing upon her. She began to frantically swing her sword—or at least tried to. She did not know if her limbs obeyed her.
- Kedzira de Gannevar. — Whether that voice echoed in her head or her ears, she could not tell. It was quiet yet sharp, coarse and dry. It sounded like the impossible voice of a desiccated corpse, a mummy or a lich, that should not have a voice at all.
- Who are you? Show yourself! — Kedzira could not hear her own voice.
- You have hunted me for so long, yet you do not even recognize me?
- Gith? — Kedzira tried to spit again, but did not know if blood flew from her mouth and where it fell. - You want me to believe this? Even the Githyanki do not believe you are still alive.
-Some believe.
A new wave of fear surged to Kedzira’s throat. She knew the Githyanki legends regarding Gith: the leader of their uprising had vanished into the abyss of Hell and had not returned. In her place appeared a dragon-demon, who made a pact between the Githyanki and the red draconids. Most Githyanki thought the pact had been sealed at the cost of Gith's life, yet some still believe her to be alive and that she will return to lead her people again.
"So I am in Hell?" — thought Kedzira.
-Does Hell look like this? — The soft darkness pressed against her skin transformed into razor-sharp blades, and Kedzira screamed. She felt as if her whole body had become one continuous wound, as if blood was flowing from every pore, as if she herself had turned into pain.
She did not know how long this lasted. She kept screaming and screaming, not stopping even to catch her breath. She thought she would die, but death did not come. The torment lasted an eternity, and then it all ended. Her nerves trembled, recalling the past and rising against the new touch of the soft, cold darkness.
A flash of fire dispersed the darkness. Kedzira caught sight of the light an instant before pain seized her, and Gith’s face remained upon her retina when the flame seared her flesh. It took Kedzira a moment to realize that the face on the wall was a carving and not a living Gith somewhere in Hell—and with that realization came the long-awaited awareness of the danger she was in. She reached for her belt for the sunstaff and ignited it just as the Githyanki sword plunged deep into her shoulder.
Gith and the Illithid.
She lay in the tunnel on the floor before the carving. Had she even left this place? The lantern had vanished, and the two-handed sword lay broken at the stone feet of Gith. Kedzira bled from countless wounds, appearing not as cuts from millions of tiny razors, but as several well-aimed strikes delivered while she was utterly unable to defend herself. Her skin and clothing were scorched, yet she was still alive.
The light of her sunstaff illuminated half a dozen Githyanki surrounding her: four knights nearby and two or three spellcasters outside her reach. She grasped the hilt of her broken sword and jumped to her feet, muttering prayers to any god who could still hear her, praying that she had not awakened too late. The Githyanki seemed stunned by her sudden revival, stepping back in astonishment and possibly a hint of fear.
Kedzira looked at the broken sword in her hand. "First things first," she thought. Suddenly rushing to the nearest knight, she slashed his throat with the broken blade and seized the silver sword from his hands before he fell. To her surprise, she felt it fly in her hands, balancing itself against her swings—this was precisely how swords behave in the hands of their Githyanki owners. But she had no time to ponder this unexpected windfall. The other three knights charged at her, furious at her blasphemy. The Githyanki considered their silver swords sacred property, and Kedzira knew they would not allow her to use one against themselves.
- Try to stop me, — she mumbled, slashing through the three knights. The silver blade practically sang in her hands. The spellcasters hurled flame and black lightning at her, but she ignored their feeble spells, dispatching her enemies one by one until they were no more.
She stood over the body of the last fallen, looking down on him as he bled out onto the floor. His whisper was barely audible, but Kedzira heard every word as clearly as she heard Gith’s voice in her head.
Danaav'ae-Kaa-talman'ukha.
Kedzira drove the silver sword deep into the bony chest of the sorcerer, threw her head back, and let out a long wail of rage and grief. Shoving the Githyanki's corpse aside, she fell to her knees, pressing the silver sword to her chest.
Gith's eyes looked at her with contempt, reflecting Kedzira’s fury. But the stone could not reveal her pain, her grief, which tortured her more than a million tiny razors or a thousand silver swords. Because she understood the words of the dying sorcerer, which were worse than any curse:
- You have become one of us.
Additionally, silver swords of the Githyanki can be found in such, not mentioned here, games as Secret of Silvers Swords. And fans of the game The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion have contributed their share in the "worship" of the sword by creating a special mod that adds the Sword of Gith to the game.
Information was sourced from the following references: forgottenrealms
Thanks to Surt and kvm for proofreading.
An offline editor Midest was used in the writing.