The Oldest Legend in the world is that of the Sylvain Elves.  They have come to call this Legend the Path of Stone.

From the Telling of Nuada upon the occasion of his sister's wedding:

The Kin-band of Llothlorien had become flesh and wandered the Land of Dreams for some time until they grew weary and desired rest.  They made their camp under the Banoyu and set the youngest of them to guard them as they slept.  In time Llothlorien, who slept with his back upon the trunk of the Banoyu woke to find his kin slaughtered in their sleep, and looking down upon him the creature known to us as the Ereshkagal, its arms bloody to the elbow with the gore of his kin, and a wide grin upon its face.

Llothlorien rose then and drew his blade and struck at the Eater of Dreams, but it took on the form of one of his beloved, and he could not hurt it. Again and again Llothlorien struck, again and again the Ereshkagal took on the face of his kin and he could not win. So Llothlorien weeping fled. Long he ran, long until he left the Land of Dreams for the Waking World, leaving the Eater of Dreams behind him, or so he thought.

In his haste to flee, however, Llothlorien had never asked what had come of the youngest of his kin, she who had stood guard over their sleep.  She had not slept, but had become distracted and had left the camp of the Kin-Band unguarded in her youthful folly.  She returned then to find her kin slain, and wept in her guilt. In her grief the Whisperer of Dark Things came upon her, consoled her, and told her of the Waking World, and of the strength she would need to reach it, and so in her madness she listened and ate the flesh of her kin, and is known to us now and forever as Chokba for her sin.  Guided by the Whisperer she followed the path of Llothlorien. Some say she opened the way for the Eater of Dreams to enter the Waking World, but this we know is untrue, for the Ereshkagal does not respect borders or walls, it goes where the Lessons Need be Taught, for that is its fate.

Llothlorien had spent many ages in the Waking World, alone and grieving, and in his grief he made children of his flesh, for Llothlorien was neither male nor female but both in one.  For a time he was happy, for his children were a delight to him.

Chokba came to Llothlorien and his children, cloaking her sin as the Whisperer had taught her, and he, delighted greeted his sister and turned a blind eye to the strange things she sometimes whispered to his children.  Love her as he did, and she too begged forgiveness under ancient law for failing in her duty, he did not forget that she had neglected her duties, so when weariness came upon the children of Llothlorien as it had come to the Kin-band, it was he who sat with his back to a Beech tree and watched over his children as they slept.

And slept they did, for it seemed then that the children of Llothlorien would never wake. Some times one would stir, waking into a half slumber before returning to rest soon enough. Days passed, then weeks, months and finally years and Llothlorien grew weary, for it had been long since he had slept, since the night under the Banoyu in the Land of Dreams.

It came to him then that crouched among his sleeping children was the Eater of Dreams, hands still bloody. It walked among the children, squatting before Llothlorien where he sat, contemplating him.

"Why do you not rest, old friend? Your eyes grow dim, your head droops. Will you not sleep?"

"I do not sleep, monster, because it is my place to watch over my children so you do not eat them." Llothlorien replied.

"Eat them?  Do you eat the seed of the grass of the fields before it is ripe? Do you pluck the last fruit of the tree so that no more will grow?  There are no Dreams here for me, old friend."  The Ereshkagal grinned its ugly grin. "I come not for food, but out of concern. Why do your children not wake? Why do they not watch over their father when he rests?"

Llothlorien had no answer to this question, and said as much. And so the Eater of Dreams scratched its chin with on blood stained finger.  

"I need not your concern, monster..." Llothlorien said with some venom, but the Ereshkagal silenced him with a look of its baleful eye.

"I have ever been polite to you, Dreamwalker. I am not your enemy, do not make me one."

Reminded of the way, Llothlorien then did set tea out for the ancient thing and placed salt upon the ground between them.  Appeased, the Ereshkagal did drink of the tea sealing the guest-bond between them.

"I come now with warning. I am the Teacher of Harsh Things. I have taught you the Path of Stone, but you have not finished the Lesson. I will come again and teach your children. If they are not ready then it will be an end to the Kin of Llothlorien. Wake your children, old friend. Finish the Path of Stone, and make them ready, and I will not see your kind again until the Summerlands."

The ancient thing stood then, erect and proud and strong, and Llothlorien knew fear for the first and last time, for the Ereshkagal had shown him its true nature, and it bid farewell, leaving the camp of Llothlorien.

Unknown to him, one of his Children had waked, had lain, feighning slumber, and had looked the Ereshkagal in the eye when it left, though this is never spoken of.

Chokba then came to Llothlorien as he considered the words of the Ereshkagal, and whispered poison in his ear, telling him how he might wake his children, but he did not listen then, for if he had he might have driven her from his camp and the world of Elves and Men would be a far different place.

Instead the poison slumbered within him, growing strong, consuming him.

Llothlorien went among his children then, and finding one who stirred, went to him and said,

"Child, why do you not wake?"

To which his child replied,

"Why should I wake? What is there for me in the waking world? The Land of Dreams provides all I need."

Another child stirred, and Llothlorien went to her and asked,

"Child, why do you sleep?"

And she replied,

"The land is soft, the weather warm, it is comfortable and so I sleep."

And so she did.

And Llothlorien stood among his children and wept, for he knew not what to do, and Chokba came to him again.

"They are content to sleep because they are whole. Divide them one from another and they will wake." She said to him, and the madness of her poison took him then and Llothlorien strode among his children in a terrible madness tearing them in twain.

It is said then that he only stopped because as he approached the last of his children, the one who had seen the Ereshkagal and had feigned slumber, and whom Llothlorien had asked his fateful question, cried out in terror and woke Llothlorien from his madness.  This too is never spoken of.

Seeing what he had done, with only two of his children remaining, Llothlorien wept. As he wept, Chokba went among the bodies of the slain and began to feast, offering her brother a share of the meat. Seeing then what Chokba had become Llothlorien became enraged and drove her from his sight, never to return until she repented her sin, which she would never do.

Seeing his last two children slumbering despite the horror the camp had become, Llothlorien knew then  that Chokba had not been wrong in her advice. He set then to his last two children with great care, and of the first he took all that had been female from him, making him man, and he was known then as Ur-Sylvanus. From the second child he removed all that had been male from her, making her woman and named her Esmerelda. He set a great passion upon Ur-Sylvanus for Esmerelda, so that she would ever haunt his dreams, driving him to wake and pursue her, and he made the land hard and cold so that Esmerelda could not grow too comfortable, so she would wake.

Ur-Sylvanus, he who had looked the Ereshkagal in the eye, had seen Llothlorien's work, and in fear had hidden away a small part of himself that had been feminine, and hid away within Esmerelda a small part of that which was masculine, so that they would never be without a reminder of what they once were. This too is never spoken of.

When his work was done, Llothlorien knew that he would ever have to watch over his children for it was not just the Ereshkagal who would come for them, but also the children of Chokba and other horrors, and so Llothlorien did to himself which he had done to his children and divided himself male from female and placed both halves of himself in the sky, Lloth, the Sun, to watch over the day, and Lorien, the Moon, that which held his madness and shame, over the Night, which is why the moon sometimes turns her face from her children.

Ur-Sylvanus set upon Esmerelda with great passion and fathered all the Elves of the world, but three he kept for himself. Titania, his oldest daughter and heir, Oberon, his only Son, and Lloth, the apple of his eye.  

But he did not teach them the Path of Stone, and the Eater of Dreams came for the Sylvain as he promised, and in time it fell upon Oberon to teach the lesson, and wiser than his father, he taught it well.

But that is a story for another day.

The Second Oldest Legend in the World is the Story of Lem. It is believed to be the oldest Story told among the Races of Men, but there are those who dispute that Lem was a Man, though certainly he and his people are among the precursors of Men.

None can say how long the People lived upon the Land.  There they had lived between Sky Stone and Sea for countless generations. They knew peace and prosperity, for the though the Land was not bountiful, the Sea provided most of what they needed, and the Sky was warm.

One day however, a strange thing was seen upon the Sea. This thing was a long log that had been hollowed out, and men that seemed much as the People rode upon it. They were big and strong, with weapons of wood and stone, wearing stiff leather over their skins, and they set upon the People of the Land with a fury.  They killed and raped as they wished, eating the slain as hunters of the People might eat a boar.

For a season the Men of the Sea hunted the People of the Land, before returning to their strange hollow logs and leaving, and the People of the Land gave a great cry of relief that this horror had left them.

One of the hunters, a boy named Lem did not believe the Men of the Sea were truly gone, though none would listen to him. Even if it were so, what could the People do?

So Lem went to the High Place and called upon the Spirit of the Sky. He fasted day and night and screamed in the language of the Spirit of the Sky until it came down to him and told him all the secrets of the world it had seen, told him of the ways of the Men of the Sea, and beyond.  Told him that the Men of the Sea would return in a year, with far more of their strange hollow logs, far more Men and that with a generation there would be no more People of the Land, only Men of the Sea living where the People once had been.

Lem, weary and weak, wept bitter tears, tearing at the rocks and stones of the High Place, groaning out to the Spirits of the Stones and they came to him, heard his woes and felt pity. But the Stones do not give up their bounty to any but the strongest and most determined, and so the Spirits of the Stones gave unto Lem only one secret, the secret of liquid stone.  Lem laughed at this strange and useless gift, and the Spirits of the Stones withdrew, offended.

Lem returned to the People and told them what he had learned from the Spirit of the Sky and shared the Secret of Liquid Stone that the Spirits of the Stones had given him. The People wept and painted themselves with ashes and cast Lem from them.

Lem, beaten and weak, went down to the sea and poured his Liquid Stone upon the Water and wept, laying down to die, refusing to eat, and drinking only sea-water, which the People of the Land knew to be poison.

When the Moon was highest, as Lem lay in his delerium, the Spirit of the Sea came to him, lifted him from the sands and took him into her waters, deep where no Men go. There she showed him many strange things and told him the greatest secret of all. The Men of the Sea no more had her blessing than the People of the Land, for the Sea does not take sides, but grants her Favors to those who dare take them.

Lem, seized of a passion, took the Spirit of the Sea, as she demanded, and was returned to the People of the Land, changed. He bore the favor of the Sea, a pearl of great size, but also many secrets.  In fear of his wrath, the People of the Land listened, and Lem took the strongest hunters among them and made weapons and armor for them from the Liquid Stone, fashioned after the strange things he had seen below the waves. He took the wisest and smartest of the People and taught them the secrets of the sea, of making powerful medicines and ungents from the bounties of the Sea.

He set the People of the Land to making walls of Stones to protect them, and in time all the People of the Land came to live in Lem's Village of Stone, known now to all as Lemuria.

And the Men of the Sea came as the Spirit of the Sky had promised, and Lem used the Pearl of the Sea to sink many of their canoes, for that is what their hollow logs were, but many more came on, and the Warriors of Lem, with stone skins and sharp blades met them. The Men of the Sea were larger and stronger than the People of the Land, but the medicines of the People made the Warriors of Lem stronger still, and so the Men of the Sea were destroyed, and Lem was made chief of all the People of the Land.  He ruled for forty years before he walked into the Sea never to be seen again. The Pearl of the Sea remained with his Sons, for none but those with the Blood of Lem could use it.

That is the story of Lem, and the founding of Lemuria, said by many to be the first City in the world.

Oonglac, the Greatest of Fishermen, who once caught a Fish as long as his arm.

A minor tale, it may be said, but important as it is the third oldest legend in the world, and it touches upon the founding of Atlantis in surprising ways.

In the Village of the Three Point Lagoon was said to be a man, Oonglac. He was not a great man, a smart man or a strong man. No, Oonglac was held by all of his village to be a worthless, lazy man. Oonglac the Liar they called him. He was small for the village, with an easy smile and nimble fingers... it was said that had those fingers belonged to any but Oonglac the Liar that that man would have been the greatest netmaker in the entire village.  

Indeed, Oonglac was a fine net maker, though his own nets were always a shambles, torn and tattered. No man would fish with Oonglac, nor share their catch with him, and day after day Oonglac returned to the village with torn nets and no fish, yet his smile never faltered and he never seemed to go hungry.

Each day the men of the village would taunt Oonglac and ask him about his catch, and Oonglac would tell them of the fantastic fish he had caught... and why he had been forced to release it, or how it had escaped him, and so he was known to all as Oonglac the Liar.

Indeed, his lies were so bold, so great that they had come to be known far and wide, through all the villages and tribes in the area.  

This did not bother Oonglac, of course. Only one thing bothered him, and that was that he had no wife to share his hut, for who would have poor Oonglac as family?  And so Oonglac grew old and weary and lonely, as Men measure such things.

One day the men of the village noticed a curious thing, a strange woman, a great beauty, was laying reeds upon the floor of Oonglac's hut, singing a curious song.  She was tall and strong and beautiful and they conceived a great desire for her, and so they approached her, each seeking to offer her a place in their hut, or perhaps to take her by force.

"Oh woman, who are you?" they asked.

"I am the wife of Oonglac, the greatest of fishermen." She replied cheerfully, unaware of the danger.

"But... where do you come from?" They asked, for she was not from their village, nor did she seem to be from any of the nearby villages, which could be said to be distant kin to their own.

"Why... Oonglac caught me in his nets!" She replied with a smile. "Each Day he goes forth, beyond the lagoon into the sea and casts his nets. This is known to all who live in the Sea, for Oonglac is a mighty Fisherman, but he is generous and kind.  He caught me, and I was just a fish then, for who else lives in the sea but fish? But knowing his wisdom and kindness I pleaded with Mighty Oonglac to release me, for I did not wish to be eaten."

"Oh, Fish," wept Oonglac, "I would release you, for I pity you, but I am terribly hungry. Worse, I desire a wife, and I cannot marry so long as everyone believes I am a liar. I must bring in fish to prove I am worthy!"

"And so," She continued, "I pleaded with Oonglac. Release me, Oonglac, for I do not wish to be eaten, and I will grant your wish. And so, as he has done ever since he was a boy, Oonglac released me and I swam into the depths and chased a fish as long as his arm into his nets. This pleased Oonglac but little, for now he could eat, but he was still lonely."

It is said that her face grew sad then.

"As Oonglac had taken pity on me, I took pity on him and I begged the Sea to grant his wish. And so, here I am, wife to Mighty Oonglac."

The men of the village did leave her then, for it was clear to them that she was touched by the gods, and  only fit to marry a liar like Oonglac.

And yet, when Oonglac returned to the village that night he bore with him a great fish, indeed, as long as his very arm, and the wise man of the Village did bless Oonglac loudly and praise his new wife for her wisdom in marrying him.

In time Oonglac would have many children and in defiance of the custom of the village he would die a very old man in his bed, his wife beside him, surrounded by his children and many of his grandchildren...all of whom were great men in their time.

It is said that Oonglac's final words were,

"Did I ever tell you of the time I caught..."

And his wife's, said a moment after,

"And every word if it true."

And so they were buried together in the clay under the hut of Oonglac.

The youngest son of Oonglac was known as Radu, sometimes Radu of the Flowers, for not only was he very beautiful, he knew all the ways of the plants of the swamp and forests surrounding the villages, and traded with the Spirits of the Forests, who Men now call the Elves.  This was his downfall, for Radu had discovered the secrets of fermentation, and in his grief over his father's death he consumed the sour nectar, falling into fits of rage, until his early death.

The Son of Radu was Makath, who was among the grandchildren of Oonglac too young to meet the mighty fisherman before his death. Makath grew up great and strong, but possessed of a terrible temper, which none blamed him for on account of Radu's rages.  Makath might have made chieftan of the village, for the men of the village loved him, but he never sought to challenge for it.   The son of Makath was known as a boy as Nico, but the mother of Nico had died in childbirth and Makath, perhaps in the tradition of Oonglac, had loved the woman more than life itself and had always despised the boy.

Thus when Nico was eight or nine summers old, and the proud owner of three fishing spears of his own... a strange enough claim but youth may take on strange prides...  and not quite old enough to fish in a boat with nets with the men, Makath took a great passion for the widow of Sanco... though many claimed Makath had killed Sanco for this reason, and took the spears of Nico to give to the children of Sanco to please his widow, known as Bea-cu.

Nico then refused to borrow spears from another and swore never to fish until his spears were returned to him, and would enter the swamps, where none had passed since the time of Radu, and would not return except to sleep.  Like Oonglac before him, however, he did not seem to starve.  Nico would become friends with Jamath, son of the wise man Braeu the Lame, brother of the chieftan Lagon (who had lamed his brother with the Maqui, the weapon of the chief, which was said to bear a terrible curse so that none wounded by it would live... thus Braeu had become the wise man as the Spirits clearly loved him...)

Nico, as hunter, bore a great knife of some black stone he had found in his wanderings.  In his last summer as a boy (for the huts of manhood would be built that fall, and Nico and Jameth, among others would take wives and be recognized as men), he fought with his father Makath, for Makath desired to take the knife Nico had made and give it to Tuoco, the son he had with Bea-cu, and Nico had struck Makath to the ground and threatened to kill him  Knowning Makath's rages and strength this was a dangerous thing to do, as Makath would surely kill the son he had always despised, but Tuoco, then only three summers, began to cry and in the distraction Nico had fled.

Nico went upon a great hunt, for he had heard of a girl with eyes like smoke in the village of three fires, far to the north, and how her oldest brother had been killed by a great boar.  He knew that evil spirits were afoot in the land, coming from the north, but this did not scare him.  

When he passed to the north he saw that the village of three fires had been destroyed, the huts burnt, the people fled, some killed, but he also found the tracks of the great boar, and he resolved that he would offer the boar to Makath as a peace offering, before giving his knife to Tuoco himself.

The legend of the hunt is known to Men as the beginnings of the Path of Stone.

The boar struck at Nico within hours of the hunt beginning. Man and beast struck at each other, each drawing blood and learning caution. The boar fled the man, and the man followed, staying just far enough away that the beast would not charge him again. Through the night he followed, each time the beast would lay down to sleep, he would creep closer until it fled him again.

The first noon he came upon the Beast, panting and exhausted in a clearing. He saw that its eyes were filled with hate, and when it rose and charged him, he was ready and he drove his first spear of fire-hardened wood into its side, and the beast fled and he followed.

On the second noon he came upon the Beast, panting and exhausted in a clearing. He saw that its eyes were filled with fear, and when it rose and charged him, he was ready and he drove his second spear of fire-hardened wood into its side, and the beast fled and he followed.

On the third noon, high up on the mountain to the North, beyond which were said to be the lands of death, he came upon the beast in a clearing, panting and exhausted. He saw that its eyes were dull with despair, and he approached it with his knife and cut its throat and ate its heart.  

Nico had not slept for three days and it was four days back to the Village by the Lagoon, but he could not sleep now, for the wolves would come. So, with bloody hands he lifted the boar, as large as he, on his shoulders and began the long walk back.

Just short of his home he met three Spirits of the Woods and they told him not to return to his home, for he would find only suffering. One offered herself as wife in exchange for the boar, but it was a gift for his father, and Nico refused, and they parted ways, to the eternal sorrow of the Sylvain, but that is another story.


In the Village he found strange men with stone skins there, his people huddled and terrified, but Nico was not afraid. He set his burden down and demanded of these strange men their purpose.

Their leader, who history records now as Andromalius... though that was not what he called himself in those days, stepped forwards and told the boy of his purpose, to build a shining city (a great village, one supposes) where the strong would protect the weak, and that he would build it upon this very place if only Nico would kneel to him.

This was of no matter to the boy, but he observed that Jamath, his only friend, was among those huddled, and he knew the fate of prisoners, and Nico demanded that Andromalius swear an oath to the Gods his purpose, and that he give Jamath to him, for Jamath was his man.  When Andromalius had done these things, Nico knelt before him and was given the name Adam, the First Man of Atlantis.

Adam was tired then and went to the Hut of his father, intending to tell him of the boar and to give Tuoco the knife of black stone, for he had not seen his kin among the huddled people.

Makath, in his pride, had refused Andromalius and walked away, and Andromalius had sent one of his sons (he had twelve), to the hut to slay Makath and all his kin, and this was what Adam found in the hut of his father.

Weeping he dug in the red clay with his hands and placed the bodies within. In Tuoco's hands he placed the stone knife so that Tuoco could guard their father and brothers. When he rose the youngest son of Andromalius, Jacu by name, stood in the door of the hut and asked...

"Who are these to you?"

"The dead belong to no-one." Replied Adam, which reply caused Jacu to relax slightly. Jamath, who had followed then offered to take the burden of finishing the burial from Adam,  and Jamath and Jacu entered the hut as Adam went with the Witch, Charlindra, who had come with Jacu.

She offered him three times to take his grief and pain, and three times Adam refused her, and at last she offered her body to him to exhaust himself upon her, and this he accepted.  

Andromalius had taken the boar meant for Makath and held a feast, but he ordered his First Son, known now only as The Forgotten (that is a tale for another day), to find Adam and make an Atlantean of him, and so the First Son found Adam and the Witch rutting in the mud like animals and he kicked them apart. Though the Witch was a Slave to Andromalius, given to the First Son as concubine (though she was also said to be his mother, and the source of Andromalius's power), she cursed all the Men of Atlantis to be as unsatisfied as she was then.

The Forgotten would indeed teach the ways of Atlantis to Adam, as he had been ordered, usually by administering beatings liberally.  The people of the swamps and forests were enslaved, even Bea-cu taken to the tent of Andromalius, before being passed in time to each of his sons in turn. The men worked to death carving the Mountain to stones, the women enslaved for... other duties.

And so Atlantis rose as prophecied, and the Pearl of the Sea was used for millennia to keep the waters at bay, until the Death of Andromalius and the fall of Atlantis.  Adam would play his role in the fall, or perhaps would refuse to play his role in preventing it.


But all of that is a tale for another day.

Of Jacu and Lacan:

The Lords of Atlantis were Immortal, which was hardly uncommon when the world was young. Ur-Sylvanus had lead the Elves since the time of Llothlorien, though of course Elves are not Men. Andromalius was the first and last to rule Atlantis, and in his time he went through many titles, but now we may call him Emperor of Atlantis.

There were ever twelve Lords under him. At first these were his sons, each said to be by another mother, except for the youngest, who were twins.  In time each of his sons would fall to another, who would take their place as an Immortal Lord of Atlantis, all but Jacu and Lacan, the youngest.  The First Son was slain by Adam during the War of Stone Tears, the rest falling in the order of their birth, but this is not the story of the Lords.

Jacu and Lacan were the fairest of the Sons of Andromalius, and either the wisest or the most foolish. It was they who advised their father on the law, on the ordering of the city. They were ever opposite each other, each vying for attention, each offering a different path for the people.  

Jacu, the only son of Andromalius who did not bear a sword, would woo the people with festivals and feasts. The city would prosper under him, the people content, but in time weakness would set in, the empire would begin to crumble, the wealth spent, and Lacan would rise to prominence. His rule would be of fire and blood, of tyrannical order, but it was also a time of wealth and power, the borders of the empire growing, the enemies crushed, until the people could bear no more purges, no more laws and Jacu would rise again.

In the hall of the Emperor the brother's rivalry would grow to acrimony and outright hatred.

It is said there was a prophecy, sworn to Andromalius upon the Mountain by an ancient oracle... an oracle killed for her words on a mountain carved to bones to make the city, that the sons of Andromalius would fall in the order of their birth, until the last two. These would fight amongst themselves, warring in the streets, until the First Man would come to put an end to the fighting, killing Andromalius, and taking his place.

This did not happen.

In the last days of Atlantis, as Lacan's power over the city grew to heights undreamt, perhaps knowing the time of prophecy was upon him, and fires raged and blood flowed in the streets as rivers... Jacu and his followers left the city rather than contest it.  As for the First Man, the First Lord of Atlantis? He did not bring his armies into the city, nor put a stop to the madness, but walked away.

It is said Lacan slew his father, Andromalius, upon his throne and doomed Atlantis.  It is said that Andromalius became a God, as he had planned, upon his death, and it was his Apotheosis that destroyed the city.  

Lacan survived, though only he could say how.


[Editorial Note:  To avoid needless offense, I'll break with my strict story voice here. This originated in a 'false history' of Earth created to justify a Fantasy world imposed upon Earth... long story short... so much of it is meant to be a deliberate bowlderization of 'Earth Myths'.  Its not meant to be true/fake-true, but rather an attempt (in setting... not in this particular, but in another project) to map out events in common lore to fantastic events.  

In short, Jacu and Lacan are mapped to Jesus and Lucifer (I know, this part doesn't seem that way, but you're getting the short version from REALLY far in the past), while Adam is... well... adam, and Atlantis eventually comes down to the Garden of Eden.  Lacan has Jacu crucified in Jerusalem, which is where I was about to go when I thought... I really should put this disclaimer in here rather than just going for it.  For those who are curious; Yes, Andromalius winds up taking on the role of 'YHWH', sort of... though in a very deeply flawed sense. No, he's not meant to be a good guy, which is not meant as a judgement on any real-world deities.  Its complex, yo.]

I love this writing of yours. I have a question though. Are old stories about elves that are told in novels about them typically accurate? Because elves can live thousands of years, wouldn't men have a hard time describing how elves actually began? And do the elves even know their own history that far back? Sometimes I think that elves are kept somewhat as a mystery in stories so that discoveries or revelations can be made about them at critical times in an adventurer's life.

As indicated in the editorial comment above, this entire project has its origins in something else.  

In short form, I was taking a page from the Game-Lit genre of fiction that I recently discovered and imagined a world transformed into a sort of RPG setting. Earth to RPG-Earth.  I've got some pretty inventive notes for the why and how, but in the course of doing my mental first draft of the story I had an odd moment where I began writing the in-setting fictional backstory to the recently transformed Earth, as invented collaboratively between the newly implemented 'System' and several of the Earth-Native 'Players'.

Most of my focus during writing was on the Atlantean side of things, which I adapted the Black Sea Flooding concept to, remarkably easily, but among other things I postulated several groups of elves and an utter replacement for baseline Humanity with 'fantasy races', grouped loosely under the heading 'Races of Men'... which has since bitten me in the ass, because I honestly have no idea for 'races', rather than 'race'... pfeh.

Anyway, I thought I'd put up some of my world building here, as I expand on it, but since I decided to begin with the in-setting legends, I thought I'd take a break to handle the 'out of setting' description, m'kay?

Anywho. I have no intentions of dwelling on the 'forced change' aspect of the setting, so its presented here as nothing more than an alternate earth, likewise while I vaguely intend to bring it up to 'modern era' in a sense, that seems unnecessary from a play aspect, so stopping in 'D&D Era'... or psuedo-middle ages... is probably a thing that will happen.


So we have the Sylvain Elves living under Ur-Sylvanus in a great forest somewhere about where the northern half of the Black Sea currently is, but not too close to the Bosphorous.  How long have they lived there? Well... this is stone age times, my friend, and the Elves aren't the best at keeping track of time, so... we don't know.

Somewhere in the ocean... I've vaguely put it in the Indian Ocean, but for not-illogical reasons have debated about the Atlantic Ocean, we have an island nation of stone age primatives... the People of the Land, who are more or less utterly cut off from the rest of the world, such as it is.  Sometime around 18000 BC, more or less, raiders attack from across the ocean in war-canoes.  (For the record, tuna fishing begins somewhere along 20000 BC), and a hunter named Lem gets the secrets of warfare and alchemy from the spirits.

It is debatable if the Spirits of the Stones were a tribe of dwarves, but they give him 'liquid stone', which can be viewed as a sort of proto-ceramic.  Making armor fashioned after lobster shells and using primitive alchemical potions for strength and, presumably, healing (D&D is fully compatible...), they fight off the invaders and build the first stone city, forming primitive social classes of warriors, alchemists and... everyone else.  Lemuria, for all it was the first, was pretty primitive and savage with a population measured in single digit thousands (for example, I was thinking of Easter Island, having read Jared Diamond's essay debunking the ecological disaster theory, though having it BE Easter Island just doesn't work for me)

Sometime a few hundred years after the time of Lem, when the social classes had gotten fairly settled and maybe even decadent, two dispossessed sons of the 'noble' class of Lemuria (warrior class, descendants of Lem) leave the Island with their followers, one of them stealing the Pearl of the Sea.  The brothers travel the world for a time, seeking to replicate the legendary feats of Lem (gaining secrets of power from various spirits), but they differ in goals. One wants to conquer Lemuria and become king in his own right, the other wants to build his own, bigger and better city.

Along they way they meet the Witch Charlindra, who traffics with extra-planar powers.  One brother makes a pact with her, sealing it by having a child with her, the First Son.  This apparently causes a rift between the brothers, and eventually the other brother leaves, taking his closest followers with him and returning to conquer Lemuria.  By that point both brothers had bartered with powers and learned enough secrets to achieve immortality for themselves.

Andromalius (whose name was given after the fact) betrays Charlindra, enslaving her and eventually giving her to his First Son to use as he will. He continues to travel, eventually coming to a mountain (a small one) which was famed for having a powerful oracle at the peak, though the tribes to the south viewed the Mountain as taboo, home to spirits, and the border between life and death.  By this time he had twelve sons and many followers and slaves. The Oracle gives him a prophecy that he will rule his great city in the place where a man chooses to kneel before him. He shall rule until he has lost his sons in the order they were given to him, blah blah.

Mind you, Andromalius is pretty much a raging asshole, so this is sort of a 'it'll never happen' prophecy.  For reasons raging from being a raging asshole, to being upset at the prophecy, but probably down to the former, Andromalius kills the Oracle and tears down the temple and only shares parts of the prophecy with his followers. They head south and find that no one wants to kneel to Andromalius, mostly because he is a dickhead, but also because primitive stone age tribes are not prone that sort of behavior.   With all the magic and psuedo-magitech at his command he lays waste to everyone, taking lots of slaves.

And then, in a fit of inspiration (divine guidance?) he blithely promises a sort of law and order approach to ruling to the first guy to ask him why instead of outright refusing, and presto.

This is benchmarked to roughly 17600 BC, but only because I picked ten thousand years for the timeframe. Actually, oddly, I picked 17600(sort of) and ten thousand years BEFORE I looked up the Black Sea Deluge (7600 BC, yo!), making it providential, to say the least.

Using the vast army of Slaves he's got (by the standards of the day) he carves up that mountain (er... part of the mountain) and builds his city in what is more or less the straits of Bosphorous on the shores of the Med.  As the waters rise over the millennia he uses his Pearl of the Sea to hold the waters back, which eventually leaves him unable to rule his city.

The people of Atlantis wind up being the decendants of the local tribes and the Lemurian conquerers, with only a handful of long lived or outright immortal 'nobles' actually being pure blooded lemurian, and in the case of the Sons of Andromalius, pure-blooded is a bit of a stretch.

Somehow, probably as part of that divine providence thing, Andromalius develops a supernatural ability to proclaim laws.  One notable law, for later, is that the women of Atlantis shall not pursue the arts of hunting or warfare (crudely speaking).   Atlantis is a polygamous society, mostly because captured women are concubines, and captured men are worked to death, but eventually the natural gender ratio skews heavily in favor of women. The Atlanteans are often known as the People of the Curse, since so many curses seem to have influenced them... the prophecied doom of Atlantis, the Curse of Charlindra (which was part of the skewing of sex ratios), the Curse of the Amazons and so forth.  

Cut to five hundred or so years later and Atlantis is a thriving city, but its growth is hampered by the 'city' of Sylvanus to the East, which cuts of land trade, and sea trade isn't really a thing yet.  Andromalius sends his First Son to bring Sylvanus to heel, and sends the First Man, Adam, as his general, Adam being one of the few non-Lemurians to be granted limited alchemical immortality at that time.  Adam, studying the legends of the Sylvanus, deliberately adopts the iconography of the Eater of Dreams, painting his gauntlets red.

In what is later known as the Battle of the Pavilion, the First Son of Atlantis negotiates a surrender with Ur-Sylvanus.  Since the First Son was far more of a bastard than Andromalius, it doesn't go well. In fact teh First Son used devices known as Excruciators to kill people, apparently for fun.  As the soul of the Excruciator was burned, the wretch would die over several days. Somehow the First Son was able to consume their burned souls for power, making him a monster in human skin.

Anyway, long story short (because writing it out as a story would take this whole post), Ur-Sylvanus defies the First Son of Atlantis, but recognizing Adam as the mortal incarnation of the Ereshkagal, arrived to teach the Sylvain a Harsh Lesson, he orders his bodyguard to ignore the rampaging monster and kill Adam. Only one obeys and is killed by Adam. Two knights survive the First Son's attack, leading Ur-Sylvanus out of the pavillion to where Prince Oberon waits with his army.  Enraged at the attack, Oberon leads a charge across the plains to the 'pavilion', despite having a cunning plan of using most of his army to surround the waiting army.

To his shock the 'army' waiting for him is a mere hundred hand picked men, the rest having surrounded the surrounding army, ironically leading to his impetuous charge saving the elves from a total disaster, and leading Oberon to remark for centuries after that 'If you have trapped the Eater of Dreams, then you have walked into his trap'.

In the wake of the battle, only 40 of the hand picked men survive, and the First Son, enraged that Adam's cunning battle plan resulted in at best a draw, orders ten of them to be Excruciated to teach his general not to fail him.

The rift between Lord and General only grows from there.  THe war takes five years, though the fighting is more sporadic and seasonal, the Stone Warriors of Atlantis (named for their 'stone' skins) are professional soldiers, rather than farmers. The Sylvain, mostly using very primitive stone age bows, learn to be very good shots, as the only way to kill an Atlantean on the field is either extreme force (unavailable to them) or extreme accuracy, aiming for joints and eyes.

The city of Sylvanus (which is more like a vast collection of tree houses) falls, but the family of Ur-Sylvanus escapes, along with most of their army to 'The Stone Tears', a waterfall lake.  Lloth, the youngest daughter of Ur-Sylvanus, takes to leading 'rangers' in raiding parties against the Atlanteans, and Titania disappears one night.

The First Son of Atlantis orders his general to take the Sylvain in a complex plan involving a small vanguard and a bigger reserve, both men know that the bigger reserve is actually planning to wait until Adam and his men have fallen in battle to strike the presumably exhausted Sylvain.   Knowing he has been ordered to his death, Adam executes the boldest possible strike, and Oberon, expecting a trick, holds his forces in reserve against all provocation, and winds up losing but not as badly as if the plan was honestly executed.  Ur-Sylvanus and Esmerelda are captured, but Oberon escapes to rally his scattered forces.

Ur-Sylvanus and Esmerelda, along with their attendants, are placed in the excruciators, their screams loud enough to be heard beyond the simple palisades of the Atlantean Camp. The First Son discovers that Adam has, supposedly against orders, taken a prisoner during the battles, a Sylvain girl that he recognizes as Titania, and orders Adam to give her up for Excruciation. Adam, by right of Law, refuses and is ordered to report to the duelling circle in the morning, an honorable death sentence.

His hand picked men offer to assist in a mutiny (er? Naval term, whatever), but Adam refuses and sends 'his man' Jamath to take his slave and return her to her people (though he does not free her first), which she refuses (because she is still a slave), and Charlindra comes to Adam with an offer to prepare him so he can defeat the First Son.  

[Ed: THis is the streamlined version, but I'm realizing I should have given the cliff notes of the streamline.... bah, too late now. Best to plow onwards!]

Long story short:  Somehow teh link between the souls of the damned and the First Son is broken by the mystic nature of the Duelling circle. Adam defeats teh First Son, who cannot simply die due to fell magics. He has the prisoners released, though they are very very near death and opens the gates of the camp to Oberon and Lloth's combined forces to return Ur-Sylvanus to his people and end the war (having accomplished Andromalius's goal when the burned the city).  Lloth and her closest followers refuse peace, eating the flesh of Ur-Sylvanus and Esmerelda as a sign of their committment to the war, and the horror of this drives Oberon to turn his back on his sister.  Further bloodshed is prevented when Adam swears an oath (backed by Atlantean Law Magic) that Titania's blood will be the first Elvish blood shed should the war reknew. Even Lloth's madness cannot accept this cost, and she and her followers withdraw.

Upon returning the still living body of the First Son to Atlantis, Andromalius is forced to reward Adam with the 'power' of a Lord of Atlantis (for reasons he never reveals, each of his son's killers are in time so rewarded, though the death must be by duel to count, presumably its part of the pacts he made to gain power), which transforms him and he becomes the First Lord. As part of his ascention he is granted the power to make one law, backed by the Emperor's Word, which would normally be a festival or a feast, but Adam forces the name of the First Son to ever be forgotten, even by his father. It is said that if ever spoken again it would spell the end of Atlantis (that... never happens, so far as anyone knows).

As First Lord, and the primary general of Atlantis, Adam becomes the 'Protector of the Borders' and spends most of his time away from the city. He eventually makes peace with Oberon and the Sylvanus by turning a blind eye to their pilgrimmages to their lost city, where they bury their dead.

Women who study fighting arts, even out of desperation (escaped slaves fighting for survival in a cruel world, say), are cursed as 'Amazon', which in the Path of Stone Tradition means among other things that they have to carry their own stones.  Large numbers of Amazons flee to what is now Libya, and there again the First Lord turns a largely blind eye to their existance, and eventually helps them escape to Themiscyra (SP?).

Meanwhile, Andromalius is increasingly confined to his throne, eventually becoming as immobile as a statue, even speaking only a few times a year by the end of Atlantis. Before he does, however, he shapes the culture of Atlantis in... bad ways. He causes the worship of various gods to fall by the wayside in favor of a more cultic worship of Atlantis itself, and himself as her rules.   Over ten thousand years Atlantis grows to a mighty empire, though somewhat paltry in many ways by more modern eyes (Atlantis didn't have major industries, cloth was mostly hand spun and hand woven, the written word was invented very late in Atlantean history, and lost with the city.  Aside from magic, particularly alchemy, Atlantis was pretty much a stone age city in a stone age world, only slightly more advanced (early bronze age at best...) than the cultures we know about from the same era.  Even agriculture wasn't really a thing, more like 'organized gathering', for most of Atlantean history.

For that matter we could describe the culture of Atlantis in three phases, the pre-empire days, when mostly ended after Sylvanus fell, where Atlantis was mostly a primitive stone age village remarkable mostly for its size and the crude stone palace at its heart, the Empire Period that lasted roughly until 11000 BC, where Atlantis grew in wealth and power but didn't really evolve much as a culture, and the Decadent Period, where Atlantis actually tended to shrink as an Empire, but actually grew as a culture, as the excess of wealth and the tendency for innovators to be rewarded with psuedo-immortality and noble titles (of a sort) meant that a class of dedicated artisans formed and looked for ways to improve life.

The most remarkable aspect of Atlantis was their Liquid Stone, an alchemical mix that could be poured, moulded and shaped, and cured into hard peices. It wasn't a metal, but relatively thin peices could stop most weapons without shattering, and weapons could be made that were superior to flaked stone in many ways.  The Lemurians made fanciful warclubs, spears and notably long knives of the stuff, but Atlantis made actual swords, not to different from the later bronze age swords they inspired in form, though a bit thicker in the middle and a bit heavier overall.

In the end, all but two of Andromalius's sons were replaced by Lords. One Lord was exiled (and much later became the Yellow Emperor), and the fighting between the last two sons over defacto rulership of the city had become violent, with clashes in the streets between their followers.   Adam gathered an army on the outskirts of the city, made up mostly of his own personal House, and the various enemies of Atlantis (Oberon was there, as was the leader of the Amazons, Hippolyta, as was the Exiled Lord and his followers), but after Jacu left the city rather than take his place in the prophetic demise of the City, Adam realized he had no desire to rule over a city he always despised, and instead they watched from a distance as the Royal Palace exploded violently, followed by a tidal wave as the Mediterrainian flowed over the city, filling up the lowlands.  This in 7600 BC, more or less.

Adam had Oberon swear that the Elves would put aside their grief over the old war and would protect Men from the ravages of the world, and Oberon did this but as his own anger still burned hot, he passed over the duty to his son Nuada, who was born after the war, and entered the Summerlands rather than live with the conflict within him. Adam disappears from history, taking Titania with him.

Lacan resurfaces, warped and deformed in monsterous ways, and plays puppetmaster throughout history, helping cities and kings become empires, even commanding Rome at its height, when he 'lures' his brother out of hiding and has him executed in Jerusalem, but apparently loses interest after that and disappears as well.

Each of the Lords of Atlantis plays their own roles in myth and legend. Koschei, Hercules, Manco and others surface from time to time.

Quote from: Shawn Driscoll;1063113I love this writing of yours. I have a question though. Are old stories about elves that are told in novels about them typically accurate? Because elves can live thousands of years, wouldn't men have a hard time describing how elves actually began? And do the elves even know their own history that far back? Sometimes I think that elves are kept somewhat as a mystery in stories so that discoveries or revelations can be made about them at critical times in an adventurer's life.

Eh, I can't say about novels. The story told above is told by someone three generations removed from the story in question.

Llothlorien creates Ur-Sylvanus, whose son Oberon leads the elves after the death of Ur-Sylvanus at the hands of the Atlanteans. Oberon's Son, Nuada, tells the story as he got it from his father in the opening post, and Nuada was born some time before 10000 BC, making him one hell of a witness to history.

Of course, the ruling class of the Sylvain are more akin to Demigods than proper Elves, so many generations of 'lesser' Elves have come and gone.


That would be true of the Alfar as well, with the legendary Alfar being more immortal demigods, and the lesser Alfar being just 'very long lived'.


In my 'timeline' post that I was typing when you posted, I don't even bother trying to pin down an actual date for the arrival/evolution of Elves in the world.  It happened. A long time ago, even by teh standards of 'a long time ago'.

The Path of Stone, Short Form:

A man walks the world, clearing the wilderness and fighting beasts, laying his stones upon the ground. A woman walks behind him, giving him comfort and bearing him sons.  In time her sons will grow to follow their father, and her daughters will follow other men.  When the man can go no further he lays upon the ground and his son will lay his first stone upon his body and continue the path of stone.




Note that this is the purest outline of the concept.  Adam's Hunt for the Mankiller is often called the Path of Stone as well, despite not having any of the elements listed here, in part because the end of that hunt has him laying his first stone upon the body of his father. The Elves, at least the Sylvain, hold that the Eater of Dreams taught them the Path of Stone, but they never really explain what the Path is, certainly not in this fashion.  It IS notable that the elves stories about the Path in specific are exclusively told by women and almost exclusively told TO women, where the Path of Stone listed above is a male focused story.   When a Sylvain storyteller says 'but that is not spoken of', that is usually a sign that the element referred to is exclusive to stories told by 'Elf-maids'.

The above then may be said to be primarily the Atlantean legend, and is a touchstone of their own legends and stories.

Elven Cosmology, Sylvain Version, Short Form:

There is the Land of Dreams, which one may pass through to the Waking World through means unknown... only Gods and Monsters seem to pass freely through the border between the two, so it is not known how mortals (er... Elves, at least...) can pass through. Some hold that it is a one way trip.

Elves who die pass on to the next realm in order, the Summerlands, of which little is said, but apparently the mythic cycles begin again in a different way.  Llothlorien had his kin-band in the Land of Dreams, he created his children in the Waking World.  The Eater of Dreams, known also as the Teacher of Harsh Lessons (and held by some to be a form of Death God) freely follows the Elves to each Realm in turn, to repeat his lessons.  He is known by his red hands, and is believed to have incarnated in the form of a Man in the Waking World.

So imagine three circles in a line.

Now, next to the middle circle (above it?), and presumably connected to the first and last circle, is another circle, another realm. This is the lands of the Fae, the Fairy Realm, etc.  The Sylvain hold that the Fairy Realms hold the descendants of other Kin-Bands like Llothloriens (cousins?), who also 'became flesh' and left the Land of Dreams.  The Fae Lands are divided, though how this division is accomplished varies wildly. There are supposedly light and dark divisions, but also four quarterly seasonal divisions and many others.

It is tempting to think of the Land of Dreams as the origin of all life/existance, and the Summerlands as a sort of heavenly end, but the the Sylvain they are merely the closest links in an eternal chain.  Presumably 'sister realms' exist for the Land of Dreams and the Summerlands, just as the Fae Realm exists for the Waking World, but as creatures of the Waking World, the Elves have no idea of what those realms would be, nor do they concern themselves overly much with it.

There is a certain... racist... tendency among Sylvain and related Elves, to consider creatures native to the Waking World (the Races of Men specifically) as hollow figments, without a 'divine' origin in the Land of Dreams and thus somehow inferior. Men do no pass on to the Summerlands, did not come from the Land of Dreams and are therefore nothing more than temporary figments of the Waking World, here to populate the place so the Elves have someone to interact with while they are here (in this incarnation).

Among the Sylvain especially the idea of reincarnation and returning from death is terribly real, but also (and this is the kicker) only appropriate in the Summerlands. Attempting to bring the dead back to life in the Waking World, or assuming someone has reincarnated in the Waking World is... insulting.

This, of course, does not apply to the Race of Men, who have no existance outside the Waking World, and thus can reincarnate uselessly into this existance as much as they want.

Races of Elves:

There are many races of Elves in the World (as there are with Men), and not all are alike, or even particularly friendly.

Sylvain: The decendants of Ur-Sylvanus, who hold themselves to be decendend from Llothlorien (the Sun and Moon God), who can be said to be native to central asia, though their ancestral lands are long lost and subject to much speculation as to location.  They are known for their vast skill at archery and their long ears (four to six inches).

They are divided into three houses.

The House of Titania: A purely notional house, as Titania is not said to have had any children, though truly ancient Sylvain (from the House of Ur-Sylvanus) would declare for this House if Titania ever returns.

The House of Oberon: Led by Prince Nuada, and is effectively ALL the Sylvain.  Aside from ruling all the Sylvain, the House of Oberon is marked by its relative close relationship with the Fae compared to other 'types' of Elves.

The House of Lloth: Dark Elves, cursed followers of Lloth, who ate the flesh of Ur-Sylvanus and Esmerelda when they lay dying upon the Excruciators of Atlantis. There is no real enmity between the Dark Elves and other Elvish Races, their hatred is for the Race of Men, but because of their sin, the Curse of Chokba, no surface Sylvain, nor most other Elves, will have anything to do with them.  Due to their curse they cannot abide sunlight, and aren't to terribly happy when a full moon is in the sky either. They live deep in the Earth.

Knights of Sylvaus: A special case. Thirty Sylvain of the highest houses were sworn protectors of Ur-Sylvanus. When they refused his orders to kill the mortal incarnation of the Ereshkagal, giving their lives instead to protect his, he cursed them. They cannot truly die until one of their order has slain the Ereshkagal, rising each morning healed from whatever wounds they suffered.  Only the youngest of them, who obeyed their order, was exempted from the Curse.  Two have given themselves to Lloth, the rest are scattered.  More than one has attempted a permanent death, but the Curse is remarkably strong.

Dwarves:  Many 'species' of Dwarves are considered Elves, and generally ALL Dwarves are afforded the respect of fellow tribes of Elves. However, they will be treated separately beyond this note.

The Alfar:

These are elves of northern Europe. They lack the long ears of the Sylvain, and in fact tend to have human-like stature as well.  They claim no real kinship with the Sylvain, nor do they speak of the Land of Dreams, but they do have ties to the Fae Realms, they are weak.  

The Alfar claim their origins from a mythic founder, Ivaldi, by his first wife.  Each of the 'tribes' of Alfar are at least notionally decended from a different son of Ivaldi.  

The sons of Ivaldi by his second wife are the dwarves, and therefore kin. Certainly among northern Dwarves this is held to be true. However, they hold that Ivaldi was also a dwarf (and thus that the Alfar are 'weird folk, take after their mother, they do...', and that Ivaldi was 'born' from the Primordial, and was the first mortal being.  However, they do hold that only the Dvergr are the proper sons of Ivaldi... other dwarves may be the same 'race', but are decended from some other primordial ancestor and thus not properly kin.    This makes the Dverger the only dwarves who would take an Elf's side in a conflict over another dwarf... provided the elf is some species of Alfar, and the dwarf is not Dvergr.

Notably, none of the Alfar or Dvergr have any ties to the whole Atlantis nonsense, and didn't begin interacting with the Races of Men noticeably until sometime around the middle bronze age.

Tribes of Alfar:

Dvergr: Dwarves, the second 'set' of Sons of Ivaldi, spoken above.

Ljosalfar, or Light Elves: In Alfar telling, this 'tribe' of Alfar are semi-divine, having served the Gods and mated with them when the world was young.  Ljosalfar look like normal Alfar, though usually somewhat taller and more slender, but are universally pale and light in color, and more importantly they actually glow faintly.  This semi-divine nature is actually a source of some shame among the Alfar, and the Ljosalfar are looked down upon as 'those willing to be slaves'.  

Alfar: Common elves, found all through northern europe and into parts of russia. They tend to be aloof even by the standards of elves (only the Sidhe elves are more obnoxious...), but this tends to come with a side of nobless oblige... when approached with sufficient respect, flattery and gifts, the Alfar tend to take on obligations.  They are known for their craftsmanship, finest of all the elvish races.

Dokkalfar:  This is a race of dark skinned subterranian elves. They are known for cruelty, but not necessarily wickedness.  Unlike the Drow (House of Lloth) they have hair as black as their skins. They have no dealings with the House of Lloth, in fact while they are said to live under-ground it is well established that they actually live in a 'sub-dimension' known as Nidavellr, or the Dark Fields, which can only be reached in places where no light has touched (luckily, firelight and other artificial sources don't seem to count, at least not in the long term...).   Dokkalfar share Nidavellr with other races, and of all the Alfar seem to have the fewest dealings with Men, so not much is known of them. They do seem to form clans or 'houses' and to have a very complex social order, however.

Myrkalfar: Dusky Elves.  This is a nomadic tribe of Alfar, who probably most closely resemble the artwork of Drow (though white hair is uncommon), with dark but not black skins. They tend to occupy territory between the world of men and Nidvellr, and engage in trade with that realm.   Of all the Alfar, the Myrkalfar may most closely resemble human ideas of 'elves', oddly enough. They tend to be nocturnal, but this is merely a preference.

Svartalfar: In appearance the Svartalfar are the tallest and most powerful looking of the Alfar, with broad chests and shoulders. They have pitch black skins that are described as cool and hard to the touch, like stone, and tend to have the white hair. They are rare and powerful, bordering on demi-god levels of power, and almost exclusively live among Dvergr communities deep in the earth. Sunlight is anathema to them, not a mere nuisance, but the more powerful among them can become (shapechange?) into dragons, in which form the sun is no threat to them.   They are not technically a tribe of Alfar, being almost akin to Vampires or other cursed/transformed inviduals of great power, though their origins are lost to the mists of time.

I'd beg off further posting on account of the hour, but since I'm a night shifter that's not really the issue.  Frankly, I'm in the weeds once I get away from the core myth of Atlantis... basically everything up until I start talking Alfar is an expurgation of literally weeks of brainstorming and writing, digested into reasonable chunks. I've got more of that, but not much, and frankly I need a bit of a breather for tonight.

Of course, since this is a gross adaption from what is/was/will be (yeh, right...) a serialized novel setting, I'm actually quite open to hearing from you guys about how it should be focused.  As I've noted, the original idea was an imposed change to modern day earth, and a lot of what remains 'in the well' has more to do with the hows and whys of that, while this is vaguely more a playable D&D type thing, stand alone 'its always been this way'.

I've noted that there are some serious gaps that I never quite got around to fleshing out, like 'what are the 'other races of men', and as noted beyond the Sylvain themselves I haven't really worked out anything deep on the other elves and Dwarves are a complete afterthought.

Another note, one of the things that's been rattling around in my head is that ultimately Lemurian and later Atlantean wind up being sort of precursors to Proto-Indo-European, which both works (time and place) and doesn't work (er... stuff... horselords, steppes, etc...)

I've rejected using anything that would bring in modern racial politics, I've sort of assumed the Atlanteans to be somewhat brownish (arabic-ish), with perhaps some exotic details. But I've also assumed the Lemurians to be rather pale, but that doesn't make as much sense (island dwellers?) and seems to be a potential flashpoint for the perpetually aggrieved, so I say fuck it and let them be blue or something.

I was going to reference Gobleki Tepi but I'm too lazy to actually pull it in.  Also the surviving Lemurians (Lemuria sank when Atlantis fell, minor detail), live on the moon 'past the sea of tranquility', but frankly I've got no good way to bring that in fantasy wise. Still led by the brother of Andromalius (who did have a name at one time, but I never wrote it down and forgot it...)

So some miscellanious notes before I check out for the day...

Among other things, this is not at all a PC sort of thing. Atlantis is LITERALLY Stone Age, cannibalism is a real possibility, slavery is commonplace and no one worried about anyones feelz.   Frankly its a bit of an effort to recall the sorts of technologies we take for granted... even in historical settings... that would be fantastically high-tech in Atlantis... like silk clothes, domesticated dogs and (I believe?) wax candles.  Hell, I have to cheat to give the Atlanteans fucking swords, mang!

Of course, in adapting it I also have to consider that I'd like to... de-emphasize certain aspects of the writing to make it a bit more family friendly lets say.  The initial idea was pulpy goodness with quite a bit of salacious sex added on for marketing reasons (I am a dirty whore, I'm afraid...), and frankly I find that rather tedious for gaming... and in fact I'm starting to find it tedious in my reading habits. Oh? Another chapter of mind-blowing sex? Skip!  I weep for what I have become...

I tend to have what I consider a realists point of view on history, and I try to keep that in mind when writing historical stuff, or in this case fantastic history.  Also there must be something broken in my head, because this stupid project has be buying over a hundred bucks on academic works on Proto-Indo-European, and even contemplating trying to learn the reconstructed language.  ARGHHHH!!!!




Anyway:

While I haven't really delved deep in some aspects there are a few oddments to thrown out here, namely regarding worship and gods.

As noted Andromalius acheived Apotheosis upon his death at the Fall of Atlantis, and even before his death was worshipped by most Atlanteans as the primary deity of Atlantis, so the scattered Atlanteans often pray to him as a God.  Definitely Lawful Neutral (if alignments are your bag).

Lacan is worshipped, but isn't technically a God at all, seeing as he's still alive and mucking about, I only put this here for filler and posit that he's the Lawful Evil type.

Jacu is not just Jesus Analog, but actual Jesus in this setting, with Andromalius sort of filling in by proxy for the Creator by accident (and a terrible fit...). In essence, the christian analogs for the setting focus their worship on Jesus (Jacu), and anyone who knows these clowns shakes their head at the foolishness of thinking Andromalius is all that. So the Kingdom of Heaven is a divine recreation of Atlantis, and Jacu/Jesus intends to return one day at the head of the heavenly host, etc. I peg him as CG, personally, but I'm an atheist, so what do I know.

Aside from these usurpers, there are the old gods of Atlantis, some of whom were imported by the Lemurians and their followers (not all of whom were from Lemuria, you know...).  Over the long ages they went from vague animistic conceptual gods to divine personages of the sort we are more familiar with, which unfortunately for them coincided with a decline in their worship in favor of Andromalius.

The only one I've pegged down is

Sarhai- the Goddess of women and marriage.  She embodied the various roles of women in Atlantis (Girl, Woman, Wife, whore and others), and was primarily signified by Lingams (giant penis statues), and not so much as worshipped as honored during certain ceremonies (weddings, naturally, as well as the rites where a girl becomes a woman... which was often part of her wedding).    Sarhai was an import from Lemuria, and her importance to early Atlantis is probably the result of her 'role' in subjugating Charlindra, the Witch... Andromalius couldn't neglect her until his power was secure or he'd lose his hold on the powerful, primordial witch.

Ideally I'd bring in the Lionman of Hohlenstien-Stadel, but I have never really got a handle on it.


On the Sylvain side we have

Lloth: The Sun and Male aspect of Llothlorien, not to be confused with...

Lloth: Daughter of Ur-Sylvanus and demon queen of the Drow. Who is, yes, a Goddess.  Spiders? Sure, whatever.

Lorien: The Moon and Female aspect of Llothlorien  

Chokba: Sin, the divine embodiment of madness, corruption, betrayal, dereliction and most importantly cannibalism.

The Whisperer of Dark Things:  An unknown, unknowable figure... a sort of primordial proto-god.   In some ways it is the Elvish god of knowledge, the Whisperer knows everything, all that is known and is unknown... it gets its name because while elves may seek to known many things, the Whisperer knows... adn shares... things that you don't WANT to know.   Despite this it isn't actually seen as evil.  True Neutral in the worst sense of the word.

The Eater of Dreams: Insofar as a race of immortals that believe in reincarnation across multiple planes of reality can believe in the concept of death, the Eater of Dreams is the embodiment of that concept.  In the oldest language of the Sylvain he is known as the Ereshkagal, and is called the Teacher of Harsh Lessons.  Unlike any of the other Elvish Gods he is never actively worshipped, but is frequently invoked, and in particular thanked whenever a Sylvain thinks they've survived and learned from some ordeal.  For example, if a Sylvain had to cut off his own hand to survive a rockfall, he'd thank Ereshkagal for the lesson before he begins cutting, and would thank him again (generally with a pot of bitter tea brewed from beech bark) after he'd healed.

That said: The 'Mortal Embodiment of Ereshkagal', the First Lord of Atlantis does have a handful of Sylvain who engage in full time worship of him, an order of penitent monks after a fashion, not so much because they expect divine favors but to remind him that he has taught the Sylvain their very harshest of lessons in this world.  They also keep the body of Larae, called the Faithful Knight, which puts them in an awkward place regarding the Knights of Sylvanus who come by every few decades to remind themselves of their ancient failure.


That said, most of the Gods are classic pantheonic figures we'd all more or less know. Thor and Odin, Zeus and Ares, Wukong, Amaterasu and so forth.


Edit to add:::  I forgot to put this in: The various Elvish Gods, mentioned and unmentioned, are almost always single alignment, or if you like... something + Neutral.  Chokba is Neutral Evil, Lloth  (the sun) in Lawful Neutral, Lorien is Chaotic Neutral and so forth. Again, this is primarily the Sylvain, though the Alfar 'recognize' these same gods, their attitudes towards them in quite distinct, and for the main the Alfar tend to openly worship the Norse Pantheon when it comes down to it.   The Sidhe Elves do no recognize these figures as Gods, but as figures of Heroic Myth, with the Whisperer and the Eater both playing roles akin to demonic figures that should be warded off and placated.  The Sidhe have no tales of Llothlorien dividing himself, no do they speak of the Summerlands (nor, for that matter, do the Alfar), but they DO recognize the existance of the Land of Dreams.


One interesting feature shared by these three races of Elves is their attitude towards direction.  The Sylvain and the Sidhe consider the Land of Dreams to lie to the East, and the Sylvain hold that the Summerlands are to the west.  While the Alfar don't consider these other realms, they too hold East to be 'the past' and West to be 'the future'. As such travelling Eastward is generally considered unlucky.   Sylvain homes never place bedrooms on the eastern face of the house, but libraries always have an east facing window (as the past is the source of wisdom and learning).  

This has a curious effect on migration patterns, of course. The oldest Elvish families tend to live the farthest to the East, the youngest to the West, and so on. None of these three tribes may be found further east than the Black Sea in any numbers (individuals and small families excepting), and the very rare Exile is expected to Travel East, at least until they are out of sight of the community they are being exiled from.

After sleeping on it I've got two ideas in mind for how to 'set this'.

The first is to set up a fairly normal D&D sort of world, evolve the setting to around  AD 1200 or so, the other is to keep it back to the bronze age collapse, or 1200 BC.    

Either one has some interesting intellectual challenges, as mentioned this was originally a top down modern world idea, so I didn't have to give the sweep of history too much thought.  I'm inclined to go with the later period, though that does open up 'issues' with translating real-world historical conflicts with modern repercussions into 'fantasy land'... but then I don't mind being mildly offensive in service to good (I flatter myself) writing.

Thoughts from the peanut gallery?

The Culture of Atlantis:

Given that Atlantis persisted for approximately ten thousand years, it is sufficient to say that the culture of Atlantis changed over its long existence, despite the immortality of its rulers.  This, then, is merely a guide to Atlantis near the end, the culture remembered by the Diasporans, the survivors and the colonies, the Atlantis of Legend.

Atlanti was a place of Law, her people could be cruel and terrible by degrees, but rarely capricious.  However, it should not be taken to mean that Atlantis was a place of Laws, for the city fell thousands of years before the Code of Hammurabi was written.   What Laws existed were the spoken words of Andromalius, and often took on the mantle of ancient traditions, immutable as the seasons.

An ordered society that may be called at Strict Hierarchal Meritocracy, a ruthless patriarchy in the classic sense of the word, where the patriarch of a family holds the power of life and death over his wives, sons and daugthers, though such power was rarely exercised.

To understand Atlantean Society in the whole one must look to the concept of the House. All Atlantis was the House of Andromalius, under him were the Twelve Houses of the Lords, each part of the House of Andromalius, yet each distinct. Each of the Twelve Houses continued to divide into lesser subordinate Houses, all the way down to the lowliest Houses of a common laborer and his wives or concubines and his children.  Within Atlantis itself any citizen could trace the entire chain of command all the way to the Emperor, and could count on the patronage and protection of his superiors as they could count on his service in return.

In the colonies and far flung borders of the Empire, such as it was, things could grow a little dicier, and over time the tendency was for an outpost to fall entirely under one of the twelve Great Houses,  with the chieftan of the colony being the most highly placed House in the colony, and all 'branches' of the Colony leading up to that pinnacle.

While in the main ones station in life, and ones duties, were a function of one's father, there was room for social mobility. One primary means was patronage, by demonstrating skill or ability to a superior House, they might chose to elevate you above your peers.  This was the most common method, and was crucial in many ways to Atlantis's long term success and growth... those capable of improving Atlantis could be elevated by the Emperor himself, granted access to immortality potions and joining the Noble Houses as one of the 'Ageless', and taking lesser Houses under one's command. Patronage did not have to be within the same House or even Great House, so the 'chain of command' of the House  system was usually in a state of flux, particularly down at the bottom.

Another method of advancement, also quite common, was Duelling. Duels were very frequent and frequently deadly, in Atlantis.  This was a limiting power of the Patriarchal authority, once a son grew capable enough his Father's ability to kill him was curtailed by the Son's ability to challenge his Father to a Duel for control of the House.  Challenges were strictly limited to 'equals and up', as a superior's authority going down the hierarchy rendered duelling a moot point.

Beyond this chain of command structure, Atlantis also had a basic class structure. At the top of the class structure were the warrior classes, consisting of the Ageless Nobles and the Patronage Soldiers.  Atlantis maintained a standing army, though by modern standards they were more a loosely collected group of warrior bands.  Atlantean armies tended to be entirely 'heavy shock troops', with very little support from archers, and cavalry as a concept did not exist yet.   To make up for this lack, most 'soldiers' would bring javalins to battle, throwing them early to soften up the enemy before charging into battle. Atlanteans reliance on their unique heavy armor meant that they neglected shields as a means of defense, though they were aware of the concept and did use hide shields against some enemies, such as the Elves, who tended to rely on missle weapons.

Below the warrior classes were the intellectual classes, consisting of the Alchemists and 'Makers', as well as assorted mystics, and eventually a class of highly corrupt, proto-beaurocrats that helped run the day to day life of the city.  Many 'mystics', particularly of the Ageless 'nobility' would go to war with the warrior caste and would be considered a part of that caste, though they used magic instead of weapons.

Below the 'intellectuals' were the artisans, the skilled tradesmen of Atlantis.  This would include tanners and net makers as well as professional weavers and potters.  By the end of Atlantis the Makers had divided into two Castes, the 'Intellectuals' who knew the secrets of creating Liquid Stone, and the "Artisans" who shaped and cured the weapons and armor of Atlantis from it, along with a handful of other goods that were traditionally made of the stuff.

Below the Artisans were the vast array of free laborers, to include fishermen (who provided most of Atlantis's food), hunters, and ditch diggers and the like.  Technically this is the last level of Atlantean society to have 'Houses', and also the lowest level which was afforded the right to Duel for redress or position.

Below them were the 'Entertainers', which included actors, poets, jugglers and whores.

At the bottom were Slaves, though many slaves had higher status due to the status of their Masters, while a great number labored for the city itself.  Slaves were not bought and sold, indeed one may point out that the economics of Atlantis were shockingly primitive by even antiquity, with no coinage, no precious metals and precious little excess to barter with.  A 'Noble' of Atlantis commanded 'wealth' based on the raw goods his subordinate Houses produced and his right to distribute them.  Most Slaves were captured from other lands and peoples, though the 'sons of whores' started life in the Slave class, but could rise out of it through talent, though this was rare.  

Atlantis had no schools. Children below the age of five did not even formally have names and were treated largely as animals until formally recognized as 'human'. Children generally learned by observation and participation, leading most to follow in the footsteps of their parents.  Males are granted a period of probationary adulthood, generally starting around age 11 or 12, and are formally recognized as adults when they form their own House by taking a wife or concubine.  Women go through more steps, going from child to maiden around the same age as male probationary adulthood, then maidenhood to womanhood within two or three years, and then joining a House, which is the formal step to adulthood (marriage), and finally Motherhood, which cements her place in her House.

It should be noted that formal marriage was a relic by the end of Atlantis, and most women remained informal concubines until they provided children to their House, and replacing the role of First Wife was the role of First Mother.  The children of slaves in a House were accorded full rights as children of the House in most cases.

Women and children of both sexes pass a great deal of their spare time in spinning threads, at all levels of society. Atlantean Women also performed a great deal of the administration of the House, and in the upper classes also studied magic, alchemy or worked as priestesses serving the minor household gods.  Once writing became a thing, literacy was very common among the women of Atlantis, but nearly unheard of among the men outside the mystics and wizards of the Ageless, though many of the Artisan Class were literate if their profession could benefit from it.  

One's place in society could be observed at a glance. Atlanteans did not have much in the way of jewelry, but clothes told much. Atlanteans did not wear much, though this is common in the world. Slaves and Entertainers of both sexes went naked, the lower classes wore mostly leather, the upper classes wore more woven cloth, singifying that they had many Subordinate Houses weaving and spinning.  Men of Atlantis all wear some form of armor, though for most this would be little more than a symbolic pectoral or gorget, until one reaches the Warrior Class, who wore full suits in public, or if wealthy enough, most of their full suits, though perhaps exchanging the chest and back protection for a symbolic pectoral plate... though this could be dangerous, as duels were not scheduled, no running home to gear up for a fight.

An Ageless's 'power' or wealth was measured by how many soldiers he could Patron, though the durability of their arms and armor meant frequently the bulk of the cost was feeding those soldiers, rather than arming them.  As such, and due to the respect accorded to warriors, many 'Patroned' were quite happy to put their own households to work to reduce the cost to their Patron Ageless, to ensure their continued position.

Atlantis did not have a police force that we would recognize, but among their citizens there were few who could be called criminals. This is in part because of the unique aspect of Atlantis... beyond even their use of Liquid Stone, and that was what is called Law Magic.  The Laws of Atlantis are enforced by powerful magics, and Lawbreakers are cursed, so all might know them.  The two most famous examples of Law Magics are the Curse of the Forgotten, in which the very name of First Son of Atlantis was magically removed from all who knew it, making it impossible to 'break the law' in any practical sense, and the Curse of the Amazon... a woman who weilds a weapon or performs any task reserved for men (mostly wielding weapons, though fishing or hunting are also banned,) would be exiled from the city, if not executed.   The Curse would literally transform the affected woman, making her taller, more muscular, more masculine in appearance.

The power of Atlantean Law is such that even the fall of Atlantis did not break their hold on the Atlanteans.  Many modern spells are derived from this unique 'school' of magic, or are deliberate attempts to recreate its effects, particularly the mystic enforcement of Oaths, Geasa and suchlike.

Language:

Atlantean was actually three languages and a surprisingly sophisticated writing system.

High Atlantean was closely related to Old Lemurian,  and was completely intelligible. However, as Lemurian changed over the long years, and High Atlantean did not, this intelligibility disappeared.  High Atlantean is a very cold, very formal language and was spoken almost exclusively by the upper two classes of Atlantis (the Warrior Class and the 'intellectual' Class). It uses an 'Implied Subject', meaning that the subject of a sentence is never verbalized, and if necessary to do so required an additional sentence be spoken where Subject is the Object.  There are three Modes, Superior to Subordinate, Equal to Equal, Subordinate to Superior.

Low Atlantean was the language of the 'people' and was spoken by everyone to some extent or other, and is the language most people think of as 'Atlantean'.  It is a predacessor to Proto-Indo-European through about three generational shifts (linguistic generations...), and is the only Atlantean Language to survive the Diaspora in any meaningful sense.

Middle Atlantean was a pidgin between the two, so that Upper Class Atlanteans could address Low Class Atlanteans who did not speak High Atlantean with stooping to their level, though of course even the Lords of Atlantis spoke Low Atlantean fluently (though often with an archaic accent, as immortals they frequently failed to keep up with linguistic drift...).  Middle Atlantean is remarkable for its precision, and curiously is used mostly (modern day) by extra-planar beings that had contact with Atlantis for formal contracts with summoners/petitioners.

Written Atlantean was a symbolic language that could be used for any of the spoken languages, though it came to use the formal, modal logic of High Atlantean and the precision of Middle Atlantean.  Largely written on wax tablets using fish bone styluses, it has many similarities to early cuneiform except in character... it might be noted that visually it was mostly fine dots and curved thin lines (circles and arcs, not cursive scrollwork).  Written Atlantean proved remarkably useful for magic, and post Diaspora wizards with no knowledge of Atlantis (er...sort of) might make use of Atlantean Symbols in their spellbooks, scrolls or on enchanted items without realizing the source of the symbols.

Clothing and Adornments:

Much like the Greeks of Antiquity, the Atlanteans admired the body and only had limited sense of modesty, though like all cultures, no matter how primitive, at least some sense of modesty did exist.

Men and women both wore a garment that may be, somewhat flippantly, described as 'panties', a simple genital covering worn between the legs and tied at the hips. This garment is called a 'Ket', and is worn from a child's Name Day through the rest of their lives, at least in public.  Upper class Atlanteans may wear a cloth Ket, often woven from threads dyed in several colors, while lower class Atlanteans make due with roughly cured leather or woven reeds and grasses.   Women of Atlantis also wore arrangements of straps and cords around the upper body, the design of which signified age-status and social class, with higher class women wearing progressively larger 'garments'. The First Wife/Mother of an Ageless House might have a full shawl of woven threads, long enough to reach her Ket, while the lesser mothers would have half shawls, and wives that have not yet born children might only have a woven collar.

Men made due with armor or, for artisans, leather aprons, or nothing but their Ket.  In colder times crude cloaks of animal skins or thatched reeds were worn for warmth.

Adornments largely consisted of decorative bracelets, anklets or collars of leather, bits of carved horn, bone or shells, or wooden or stone beads.  Tattooing was uncommon and primitive, generally only blue or black lines and dots, though among the Patron Soldiers it was common to tattoo written Atlantean into the skin of the chest and back describing heroic deeds as a form of military honor, since such soldiers would rarely be challenged to duel compared to their Ageless Patrons, they frequently used only symbolic pectorals when home.


Arms and Armor:

Every Atlantean man (commoner and up) is expected to be able to fight for Atlantis, and thus have armor.  The Atlantean's success at empire building largely was a result of their mastery of Liquid Stone, as their mastery of magic and other arts was, for most of their history, merely on par with other cultures and tribes around them, though by the Diaspora the Atlanteans were quite advanced for their era.

Liquid Stone was a closely held secret as a result, and by all accounts the ingredients were rare and hard to acquire. It is notable that in Lemuria it was not a secret, though no easier to make.   From what is known, the ingredients were mixed as a dry powder, which became liquid during mixing, with a consistency somewhat like wet batter, and when sealed in a container would remain in liquid form indefinitely (sealed jars of liquid stone may occasionally be found even today, still 'wet').  To 'cure' or dry the Liquid Stone requires sea water, or so it is believed (Based on the Tale of Lem, and the fact that fire does not cure Liquid Stone, but sufficient heat will ruin it).  Once cured, its shape remains fixed, it is a reasonably light, hard ceramic that is, unlike normal pottery ceramic, not very brittle at all. It doesn't flex as metal will, but requires a lot of effort to break.   Pieces of Liquid Stone from the Early Period of Atlantis remain fully usable to the modern day, if rare. Later pieces show that the process of curing had grown quite sophisticated, as they demonstrate differential hardness, with the outer layers being extraordinarily hard, and the inner layers retaining some measure of its softer state.  Late Period Atlantean arms and armor may show surface cracks and chips that do not weaken the item overall, while early pieces with visible cracks are essentially useless. It is believed that cured items could be ground back into powder and used to 'expand' new mixes, but this is unverified.

Lemurian and Early Atlantean Armor very much appears like a lobster shell, large single plates draped over the shoulders like a cowl, with cord tied 'front plates'.  This was very heavy and difficult to move in, and in the oldest pieces the arms were restricted to the front, with little lateral play.  A similarly segemented helmet was usually worn as well.  Pieces of old armor frequently made their way down to lower class households as symbolic pectoral or back plates, and despite their unweildy size and general lack of adornment, were highly prized, so few intact suits remained by the Diaspora.

Later suits were custom crafted to the original owner and were quite advanced. Usually consisting of large and highly ornate (applique style baroque) plates worn over the outer portions of the arms and legs, and narrow bands of thin segment plates wrapped around the chest and back and hanging over the groin were the standards of late Atlantis, with single piece helmets with attached cheek guards or half masks. Each House would have its own artisans with their own distinctive style.

The weapons of Atlantis were the Sword, the Maqu, and the Javalin. Javalins were little more than fire hardened wood, though in some cases they were tipped with broken fragments of armor-stone, or with worked flint taken or traded from other cultures. Most warriors would carry three javalins, throwing them all before closing to melee.  There were several designs of swords, again each House artisans had their favorite, and the later bronze age swords were based on atlantean designs.  The Idea of swords in general seems to have come from Lemuria, though how they went from chipped stone wedges to long blades is unclear.  Early Atlantis and Lemurian swords appear to have been single edged, with Carp Tongue and double edged 'Leaf' blades appearing later.  The average length of sword was quite short by modern standards, especially when one considers the average height of an Atlantean ranged from six and a half feet to seven feet in height.  Compared to metal swords, Atlantean 'stone' swords were thick spined and heavy, and the concept of counter-weights never developed.

The Maqu is sometimes mistaken for a club or mace, it was generally a rod of thick wood or a long bone, including the thigh bone of an enemy, topped with a stone head. In practice, the Maqu was not used as a weapon, though it was held in the left hand of a warrior and was apparently used to block or deflect some attacks.  Given the prevelance of war-magics, the Maqu was primarily used as a focus or fetish, however, and among the 'officers' of the Atlanteans, the Ageless Nobility, it was used as a signalling device and would have a longer handle and more adornments (feathers, beads on strings, bits of enemy scalps, etc).  Among its other uses, when marching to battle the Maqu would be struck against the armored chest of the warrior, and the records of battles report the unearthly rattle of a thousand strikes in the time of a beating heart would sometimes drive enemies to flee rather than face the Atlanteans.

Magic:

Atlanteans were among the first organized group to engage in wide spread extraplanar dealings, dating back to Andromalius's time of wandering before founding the city. A great deal of modern Arcane magic owes itself to Atlantean traditions, but not all of them. Atlanteans had no real traditions of sorcery, and viewed divine magic and 'wizardry' as 'women's work'.   Due to their martial tradition, most Atlantean men who studied magic tended towards traditions like the Warlock or blended magic with their warrior training (eldritch knights, functionally).  While their Liquid Stone armor was not quite as bad for magic as modern metals, Atlantean wizards on the battlefield still had to overcome their armor to cast reliably, and generally would instead rely on pacts and summoned fiends or enchanted items for their mystic support.

Liquid Stone, in its cured state, is curiously inert as far as magic goes, being quite resistant to most forms of magic, though not imparting that protection to the wearer. However, it is also remarkably easy to enchant... at least during the curing process, so most Atlantean Nobles would have at least some enchantments.  

The prevalence of summoning and binding among Atlanteans has led to speculation that most, if not all, Maqu contained some form of bound spirit, perhaps a mephit or imp, but this has never been verified.


Impact:

Atlantis is no myth, and small enclaves of 'pure' blooded Atlanteans can be found throughout the world. Many powerful artifacts from the days of Atlantis have shaped the world... as have the various Exiles of Atlantis.

The Amazons not only outlasted Atlantis, but persist even to the modern day.

As do the Yaun-Ti... the results of alchemical and arcane experiments that offended even the Atlanteans, and one of the greatest military threats to ancient Atlantis in the Late Period before the Diaspora.

Atlantis managed to rule a mighty empire in its day, ranging throughout the entire mediterranian basin, and a good portion of Asia Minor, though in truth its territory was never more than loosely held.  At its height its technology was greater than any other culture in the world, but it remained a poor country cousin even to the early bronze age cultures that would spring up in the millennia after its fall. Atlantis never had metal working of any sort, nor proper agriculture* or the domestication of animals. Log canoes and leather coracles were the extent of its naval power.

*Regarding Agriculture, Atlantis did develop primitive agriculture in the Decadent Phase, roughly the last third of its existence... around the same time it developed writing, or around 10-11,000 BC or so.  Whether this began in Atlantis, or they learned it from conquered peoples is pure speculation.






Fourteen Blades:

When Andromalius came over the Mountain with his sons, he and his sons each bore (according to legend) a sword of fabulous power.  When Adam became the First Lord of Atlantis he did not take the sword of the First Son, so the Sword of the First Lord is the fourteenth blade.

Several blades are presumed lost. The Sword of Andromalius himself was lost with the city, though presumably the God Andromalius has it.  The Sword of Jacu is alternatively described as 'lost' or as the concept of Mercy itself (and thus not a physical object), and the Sword of the Forgotten seems to have disappeared from history.

Not all of these blades are proper swords. Lacan and Koschei (the Eighth Lord) are more properly said to have daggers, for example.

Curiously, while many hold the Sword of the First Lord to be second only in power to the Sword of Andromalius, its powers are the most obscure of all, and it has ever been described as a plain, unadorned blade, enscribed with the words 'It is not the blade that is dangerous, but the man who weilds it'.

None of which addresses the improbability of any of these swords being remotely as powerful as legend ascribes to them, or the anachronistic descriptions of them.  If accurate, each would be a legendary artifact, no mere enchanted sword, but that raises questions that only the Lords of Atlantis could possibly answer, and they haven't been seen in thousands of years.

Thoughts

I've more or less decided to move ahead with an AD 1200 time frame, lacking any commentary to the contrary.  I've got work to do on expanding the Races of the Elves to at least include the Sidhe, and then to cover eastern elves, plus the Races Of Men post(s?), which still hasn't grown past where I was before.

I did mix in the Yaun-ti to this alternate earth, they have their origins in Atlantis, exiled for their pursuit of power down paths not even the generally amoral (but lawful) Atlanteans would tread, and later a rival kingdom fighting.

I've a thought that the Assyrians should be a Hobgoblin empire, though the long term impact of that is... what exactly? A curious footnote?

I've pretty much blocked out 'Fantasy Christian' to my satisfaction, but I am stumped on what to do about other 'real world' religions, outside the pantheonic pagan faiths (which I intend to keep!).  To be honest, it largely comes down to 'what to do about Islam'.  Writing it out as unnecessary is fine, except that replacing it with barbarian hordes in the shaping of Europe is patently offensive even if that isn't the intent, while keeping it 'as is' is just as fraught.  De-emphasizing all the modern faiths seems unsatisfying somehow...

Tickling my brain is the fact that in concept all of this was only vaguely D&D-like, and my familiarity with the 5E rules is rudimentary at best...  I haven't even pondered much the role of dragons and illithids and beholders... though to be fair it seems as few 'world builders' do, other than to foot-note them in aside from their role as 'murder-hobo bait'.

I think the 'best' way forward, posting wise, is to pick a specific year/decade (rather than a vague century), and then cover the 'known world' region by region to cover specific changes.  That means research, as its not my 'best' period for history.  I suppose I could push it up to 'early enlightenment', minus gunpowder, but then I'm just opening more cans of worms I suppose.


EDIT:::

Meh. Just so I can move forward I plucked the Year AD 1236 from my hat.  I have no idea what is going on that year in history, but the Hat never lies. It smells like ass, but it never lies. I really should wash it more often.

Of course, I am not at all compelled to keep anything from the real world, so there may be some fudging.  Hey, just because the Hat never lies doesn't mean I can't...