Bilrach's memory is a book found during the Mahjarrat Memories miniquest. To find it, a fully charged Engrammeter must be operated inside the castle above Daemonheim where Bilrach tried to bring Zamorak back by going to the lowest floor. When Bilrach's memory is brought to Kharshai, he transcribes it into the book.
Some of my compatriots - having grown soft and weak on the fat of this empire - seem to have forgotten where we came from not so very long ago. On Freneskae we lived not as lords but as peasants, eking out desperate lives in the shadow of the volcano. The magicks that serve us so well now on Gielinor were taxed to their limit simply for survival against the environment and the other tribes. Thanks to the constant conflict with the neighbouring Mahserrat and Chelon-Mah, and the need for sacrifices for the Ritual of Rejuvenation, we never numbered more than a few hundred, and came perilously close to extinction many times. Like all the tribes, we were ruled by right of strength - the only true natural law. Those who disagreed with the consensus of the strongest found themselves upon the marker stone. By ruthlessly culling the weak, we grew ever more powerful, despite our low numbers. We believed that the destiny of the Mahjarrat was to become the strongest of all tribes, but our enemies were powerful and many.
Then, the strangers Icthlarin and Amascut appeared and told us of a world with weaklings, assaulted by an implacable foe. They needed the help of beings as mighty as we, and in return offered us places of great respect and influence. This prompted a debate - the greatest I had seen in my short life - about whether to stay or to go. The sides were evenly matched in number, but with both Temekel and Azzanadra in favour of leaving, the subsequent violence left Salisard dead and Abrogal atop the marker stone. I do not know what Icthlarin thought of this, but his companion Amascut seemed dismayed by our ways and walked out of our village towards the volcano. We did not see her again.With the matter agreed, the Mahjarrat tribe made preparation for travel and gathered up our meagre belongings. Before we were finished, a great bellowing roar came from the volcano. I do not know if it was Mother Mah, but I cannot imagine what else it could have been. Great rocks began falling onto the village, shaken loose from above, and there was no time to consider the Ritual of Enervation. We had no choice but to evacuate immediately, and fled with Icthlarin to his world. None of us ever returned to our homeland.