TheRPGSite

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...

Some world events/complications to consider based on setting it in 1236...

Middle of Reconquista in Iberia/Spain... which brings up the specter of real world religious conflicts.
Sixth Crusade, ditto.
Holy Roman Empire... dit.to.

Mongols in China (Jurchen Jin, but whatevah...) and moving west as well.

Good News: I can completely ignore Australia and 'the New World'.  Fuckem, they're gone! Poof!  I got Yaun-Ti in Africa clashing with the Kingdom of Mali, and Orc-Mongols rampaging across Russia and I'm probably going to go totally racist-nuts on the Ainu (like I just did with the Mongolians.... my work for evil is never done...), but whatever.

Thoughts on handling of this.

First, I'd already decided to de-emphasize but not eliminate Christianity, as a fantasy world where objectively provable gods are real (vs the 'take it on faith' of the real world), and so forced conversion is a lot messier, and the appeal of the more monotheistic Christian faith would be reduced.   Simply give the same treatment to Islam, reducing it to regional players rather than two monolithic faith-blocs fighting for control over the world.  Ideally I should just remove them entirely, but I've enjoyed too many 'fake catholic churches' from Anime to give up now!  Of course, thirteenth century catholics... meh.

This means that the Reconquista  and the Crusades are not holy wars between Christianity and Islam, but regional political fights, possibly involving other religious (pagan) forces. More so the Reconquista than the Crusade.

Holy Roman Empire is not fighting the Papacy. Name change perhaps?  Teutonic pagan religion?

Mongols as Orcs?   Actual real world mongolians may not like it (and I've known a few, but not well enough to say), but the idea has its appeal.  Related I'm tempted to make the Jin into a non-human kingdom, or predominantly non-human (Asian Elf?) kingdom, but its too early to say.

Also leads to question of Byzantium. Heavy Atlantean influence? Obviously post-diaspora, but as a major population group? Last hurrah of the old guard?  Not feeling it, but worth a look.  

Major thought is that most 'kingdoms' are regional polities, rather than ethno-states, so the large question is more who is the ruling class made up of, rather than 'who is the state made up of'.  Gah, that's an awful sentence... anyway...

Crude Ideas... make that Rough Ideas...  the Sidhe Elves are most populous along the northern and western parts of continental europe, but are not a dominant power in any of the major kingdoms (seeing as their own kings and queens live in the Fae Realms), but are common mostly in the british isles and northern France and Spain, while farther east they compete with the southernmost reaches of the Alfar, and to the south-east the Sylvain, who are spread across transylvainia (accident, I swear!!), or if you like Hungry and Bulgaria, with their own city-state in the region.  

Byzantium as largely dwarvish?  Makes some sense, what with teh walls and all, but still not feeling it. Heavy dwarven influence?


The idea that most of the world is predominantly Human kingdoms with heavy populations of fantasy races  (and scattered pocket kingdoms), with all sorts of wild lands filled with 'monster races' does have appeal, but also seems to be missing opportunity.  May take a breather during research phase and focus on 'building up' races and such that I've sidelines. Goblins, Hobgoblins, Orcs (mongols? Steppe Riding Nomads is a nice change from the usual...)... plus Dwarves and such like.  I may just grab my PHB and 'handle' the races in order, at least in a gloss unlike the 'big works' I've already done, if only to get the brain juice bubbling.  Hmm... time to open a new word-doc?  Yes, I AM brainstorming 'aloud' as I type. So? You got a problem with that???! Well, DO YA?!


Yanno? I don't think I would have set myself up deliberately to deal with things like Mongol invasions and what not... I was more or less aiming at gutting the 'real world' for Fantasy Real World, now with 50% less Ren-Faire mideval fakery! (TM, yo), but now that I've gone and done it... I'm looking forward to it!

Of course, I MAY need to play time-cop and move my historical slider back to the past so that I can 'evolve' up to the state of AD 1236... but since I want to get stuck in now that I've made up my mind, I may settle for risking a bit of retconn re-write down the line instead.

As an example of the complexity of the task I have set before me, consider tiny little Portugal...

In 1236 the southern part of Portugal was still part of Al-Andalusa, and would be for another 13 years.   Its 'tractable history' goes something like Celts, Carthaginians, Romans, Visigoths and Ummayids.

Now, its pretty much been Portugal as we know and love it since 1249, and despite the Ummayid/al-Andalusia thing, been recogonizable since 1128.

So: Do I keep with King Sancho II of Portugal, fighting whatever replaces the Ummayids in the setting?  Do I pop some made up king?   What sort of fantasy influences do I pull in to make it more than a dry trip through history, now with Elves!

Who were the Carthaginians in this alternate setting? That's important stuff since the Romans only invaded to keep Porto Cale mines from Cartheginian hands during the second punic war...  With names like Hasdrubal should they be a fiendish Tiefling kingdom?  What about the Celts? Are they a predominant elvish peoples, Human? Something else?

So many questions.  But like Xander Cage said... "I LIVE For This Shit!"

I mean: Once I start solving those questions, the passage through the regions of Europe goes pretty quickly until I get into the wild and wooly eastern europe and russia, much less passing south into Africa or the middle east.


And NONE of that has even touched on the role the Catholic Church played in Sancho II's death, etc.... a role that has to be completely unwritten or re-imagined with regards to this alternate, fantasy version...

So for the first regional lookie-lo, I figured I'd go with Iceland and basically leave Greenland as a footnote if mentioned at all.

In the real world Snorri Snurlsonn has gone to Norway the previous year (1235) to be recruited to make Iceland a part of Norway, which is part of an opening gambit that leaves Iceland (in a few years) to become a pretty violent place, by Icelandic standards, and eventually does see Iceland become a 'part' of Norway.

Interesting.  Also: Awesome. This is setting gold, Jerry!  We've got a period of relative calm just before a big political storm and factional infighting, which will include Iceland's only naval battle and their single bloodiest battle.  

I see no reason to muck with the political situation whatsoever, and in my typical modern american arrogance I'll assume that the Icelanders do go a viking in this era, because of course they do!  Do they? Don't care: Vikings are cool, and Sagas are being written. (Snorri, more famous for his Epic Saga, will be murdered over all this noise in five years, so... yeah! Sagas, bitches!).

Now, were I doing this as a professional sourcebook or something I'd point to the Godar, the quarters, the roles of cheifs, but this is a big project done on a lark on a forum, so go wiki up some shit for yourselves, ya lazy bums.

The big change I have here is that the Icelanders are all Half Elves, or at least predominantly so. I imagine a bunch of human vikings and alfar settled here getting away from the noise of Harald Fairhair's drive for kingship, and of course on viking raids took a lot of really pretty sidhe elf-maids back to Iceland (Seriously: Icelanders tell me they're all a bunch of pretty, pretty people because they always took the best slaves back in the viking days. Is it true? Who cares!), which results in a pretty solid intermixing of Human and Elf in their isolated community, resulting in what is (circa 1236)... half elves.

While there are still plenty of pure blood Alfar and Sidhe on the island (seeing as they can easily live the 400 odd years since the settlement of Iceland, we're mostly talking first generation here), there are virtually no more pure blooded human families left, only various degrees of human-elf mixing.

Now, beyond that Iceland is pretty boring from an Adventuring point of view. None of the monsterous races we usually think of as problems are found on Iceland, and so far as that is concerned, the "Big Monsters" are the ancient red dragon that lairs on one of the many volcanos (Pick one...), and the younger chromatics  (many of them Blue or White) that lair on the island, as well as the natives of Nidvallr (Dokkalfar and a race known as Black Goblins (until I get to them for a work up, anyway) who are unrelated to the surface Goblins in any meaningful way, who frequently interact with the locals.

No, the big 'monster' or 'adventure' issues for Iceland lies in the waters off the coast.  The Icelanders are experts at dealing with Kraken, Sahagin, murlocks (um.....) and others, and not in the 'invite them over for tea' sort of way.  If ya got Aquatic Elves you want at your table, they can be found in the coastal settlements of Iceland, dealing openly with the locals, even putting in a bit of dry-land settling of their own if that's yer bag.

So the Kingdom of Norway.  

Just got done with a big ass civil war caused by some asshole forgetting to write down the rules for inheriting the throne.  Not even kidding. One hundred years of fighting, ski-lifted babies, dudes getting their eyes put out and feet cut off for daring to wear the crown...

Good stuff.  Pretty much ended because everyone was fucking sick of the whole show, and this Hakkon guy was just hanging about with this awesome story about how he MIGHT be the son of the last great contender and had to get skiied out of enemy territory as a faaking baby.  Moses in a basket levels of divine providence and whatnot.

Oh, and he actually seems pretty bad ass at this whole political thing. So make him king.

Boom. End of the Civil war, and by 1236 yer looking at 20 solid years of peace, stability and, oh my faaking god prosperity.  Russian kings are offering to give territory to Norway to marry into the Norwegian Royal family, the IRISH of all goddamn people are offering the High Kingship to Haakon if he'll just slap the English around once or twice for 'em.   Its good to be a viking in 1236, eh?  Hell, the god damn POPE is trying to make Haakon the fuckign Holy Roman Emperor, which, by the way, the current dude with that title is NOT happy with.  

And the King? He's turning 'em all down. Mongols, doncha know.  He sets up shop in Europe proper, never mind Russia, and BAM! He'll have Mongols to deal with. Hell, he doesn't even want the Irish, and they're farther from the Mongols than he is.

Well...

I mean. Irish.  Whaddya gonna do?

On the other hand hes got ALL of teh ships, so maybe not such a great time to be a Viking.  Sure, its great to be Norwegian and shit, but he's not exactly letting his people run off with a valuable ship and go get money and fame and babes an shit. Might try to buck his reign, and frankly everyone in Norway is heartily sick of that shit.  


So. What do we change?

Well. The Irish thing and the Pope thing. I mean they're nifty but they don't quite stand up where the setting is going with all the fantasy shit.  I mean, we just undersell it until it goes away. Maybe some Irish did offer him the High Kingship, maybe they didn't....  

Politically Norway is in the exact same boat (120, apparently. In the Norwegian Navy of the 13th Century...).  Newly peaceful, powerful, feared and respected and with a solid king making political deals on the world stage.  

For adventurers there is less political stuff... probably plenty of scores to settle between the balgers and the... um... skiing guys (Sorry, teh name of hteir party is like thirty letters long and reads like a bad case of bronchitus), but that's chump change.  

On the other hand, Norway is a great place to set D&D adventures involving monsters!  Me? I'm perfectly happy to turn the Sami people in Goliaths, and put goblins, or xvarts, whatever floats your boat, in the forests and mountains.  Dragons of course and other critters that like the cold, and all that civil war bloodshed means putting Gnolls in Norway actually makes sense based on their new write up.... but I do miss the Flind-bars.

Now, cutting into Norway's stability is the Alfar that  mostly live in their own communities.  Some may have taken sides in the civil war, and thus in the united Norway, but others will see the human politics as beneath them... and that sort of thing ain't cool, yo.  That's exactly the same attitude of various chieftans that needed to be put down to make Norway a country in the first place. You've got Dwarven Clanhalls and access points to Nidvallr all over the damn place, and then there is the fact that having the worlds strongest navy means jack and shit in a world full of under-sea civilizations that could, at any moment, make a mockery of all you've built.


So for all his apparent power, Norway is actually pretty rough. Lots of independent powers inside his realm, his main source of international power is horrifically vulnerable.   His best bet is to treat at least the Dwarves and the realm of Nidvallr as foriegn powers with actual borders, but for now its actually just 'ignore them and worry about other things', like getting the Alfar communities in his territory to at least pay lip service to the crown and protecting his fleet from undersea powers... by cutting deals with OTHER undersea powers!  

And you know who is up for a little underwater diplomacy?

Adventurers. The correct answer was adventurers...

Okay, so a quicky.

In 1236 absolutely nothing of interest is going on in Sweden or Finland geo-politically.  I mean, the Swedes are a-viking their asses off, but they don't really get their king thing on for another 13 years, and the fins?

Well, I mean first the Sami to the north are pretty much their own entity, and the big question of the day is if they'll pay taxes to Russian taxmen or Norwegian Tax Men. The southern fins are getting into international trade, but won't actually catch up culturally until the swedes get a king and decide to conquer their lazy butts.... which in the real world meant 'bring christianity to these heathen dogs... with a side of increasing my personal power and wealth'... here its just, really, the power and wealth thing.

Now this is good and bad. Good because that means the entire area is pretty much Adventure Heaven, but the 'bad' is that pretty much nothing important needs to be said.  Humans, Alfar, dwarves, dragons monsters, points of light, yadda yadda.

And I'm sticking with my totally racist decision to turn the real world Sami people into Goliaths.



I do suppose it is interesting to note that Finnish is not a P.I.E. language, which means we can rule out any major Atlantean influence on their culture... going way way back (though if I read it correctly... the Finnish language group may have SUPPLANTED a PIE language sometime around 2000 BC?   That's... interesting. Not terribly useful right now, but interesting)

I'll just assume that the Goliath/Sami have pretty good relations with the Finns, and probably don't much like the idea of being taxed, but... well... aside from a good iconic woodcut, you just know that the number three fella in the universe was the Taxman, right after the Prime Mover(God) and Death.

Ok, so I was doing some thinking while I was at work.  Next on my schedule (so to speak) is the british Isles, which should be dead simple and speedy... maybe a single post for the lot of them... but... but...

Well, here's the thing. I sorta have the idea that Ireland is pretty much the domain of the Sidhe Elves, but I haven't really done anything to EXPLAIN what makes the Sidhe different from the Sylvain or the Alfar, so that's a thing... and I'd really like to get on that "Black Goblin" thing from earlier (Deep Gnomes? Repurposed Deep Gnomes? Damnit, where's my monster manuel...), but that's a distraction...

See, I ALSO was thinking of the Tuatha de Danaan and the Milesians as more 'Race of Men', and frankly, having Ireland be almost entirely Elf pretty much puts a kibosh on that, and anyway I'm totally filching characters from the de Daanan as it is for 'elsewhere' so.

Which brings me around to the last point. I'm not UN-happy with what I've done so far, but frankly it feels a bit like a 'why bother', since I'm just riffing through history pages on Wiki and salting a few fantasy races here and there. No... IMPACT if you will, and at the moment certainly no Atlantis. I mean: Sure, right now I'm sort of outside their practical reach, seeing as how they're merely slightly jumped up stone-age psuedo-empire... but, well..


So I'm gonna hold the geography for a bit and focus on building up the elements for the next few posts.

Nidavellr:

To start with, Nidavellr is NOT the underdark. It is, rather, much like the Feywild, a separate realm or dimension that overlaps the Material Plane significantly.  However, the mistake is easy to make, as the most common places where Nidavellr can be reached are underground.

Like the Feywild the true size of Nidavellr is unknown, but it is believed to be as large as the Earth itself, if not larger, but geographic oddities and differences in terrain can allow one to traverse Nidavellr 'faster' than the same trip on the Material Plane in most cases, leading many to assume it is smaller... a similar 'trick' of movement exists in the Feywild, but there the difference is due to entirely different 'laws' governing the reality.

Nidavellr is, by all accounts, a dry and rocky place... though it has been suggested that only the borderlands touching Earth are so described.  More notably, however, it is dark. Very, very dark. There are no stars in the sky, no moons.  By human eyes nothing in the entire realm gives off light unless it is brought in by outsiders.

Dark Vision works fine in Nidavellr, but more importantly the denizens and creatures of Nidavellr appear to invert their own perceptions, seeing the vast unbroken darkness as 'well lit' and sources of light as patches of dark... though perhaps this is merely a poor metaphor.

Nidavellr touches upon the Shadowlands and other places of elemental darkness, and many of the creatures that may be found there are creatures of shadow, but not all.

Three races are known to dwell in Nidavellr specifically.

The Dokkalfar are the acknowledged masters of the Realm, though again the truth of this may not extend past the lands that border the Material Plain.  They live in vast stone fortresses that are the gatherings of entire clans of Dokkalfar, and engage in a perpetual war of politics and assassinations against each other.

The Myrkalfar are not native, but have excellent Dark Vision and travel the borderlands, trading with the natives and returning to the Material Plane from time to time to collect exotics.  Each caravan of Myrkalfar must be dealt with separately, though familiarity and friendships with the Myrkalfar may help when dealing with a new caravan. May, being the operative word.

The Svirfneblin:  In the northlands they are often called Goblins, and to diferentiate themselves from the gobliniods, they may call themselves Black Goblins.   They have vast clan holds in the rocks of Nidavellr, but many interprising individuals may be found all over the Material Plane, often as merchants.  Unlike the Dokkalfar they do not struggle with the Light, though they still prefer dark places.


While there is little, if any, evidence that Atlantis had any dealings with Nidavellr, the Svirfneblin and the Dokkalfar both have been known to 'produce' artifacts from Atlantis from their vaults. In the former case there is an equal possibility that said artifacts are forgeries, though their quality is superb.  On the other hand, it is known that refugees from Lemuria did come to Nidavellr and stay for an unknown length of time.  It may be suggested that Nidavellr has access to the Moon as well as Earth, but this remains unproven.

Since time immemorial the Sidhe Elves had lived alongside the Celts throughout Europe very nearly as one peoples.  The coming of the Roman Legions, driven by the Atlantean, Lacan, broke the ancient covenant, dispersing the human tribes and killing many of the Elves, driving them back into the Feywild from which they had come.

To this day the Sidhe may be found in hidden places all over Europe, but only living openly in Ireland (Eire) and a few other places in the British Isles.  They no longer live alongside Men of any sort, and their dealings with them are cruel and high handed.

But the Sidhe had always been cruel and high handed, so perhaps not much has changed. The Men who lived alongside them in the old days were treated as a lower caste of Elf, not equals as some would have it, and the Men who live among the Sidhe today in places like Ireland, often live in fear of the capricious whims of their masters.  Despite being mostly scattered and hidden the Sidhe have weathered the viscissitudes of history quite well, and why should they not... for they do not call the Earth their home, but rather view their holdings here as mere colonies of their true homes in the Feywild.

Indeed, the rulers of the Sidhe have never been known to set foot on this realm, and it of those worthies we shall speak for the moment.

Sidhe politics are divided into four realms, each with an absolute sovereign leader, and two 'Courts'.  The four realms are named after the seasons, Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, which are not mere names but reflect the character of the Realm and its sovereign as well as the climate of its region of the Feywild, while the Two Courts are Seelie and Unseelie, and may be found in some numbers in each of the four realms.  It is not entirely inaccurate to claim the Seelie as 'good' and the Unseelie as 'evil', though perhaps 'Light' and 'Dark' are better divisions.  All of the Fey races agree to these divisions, though not all the Fey claim allegiance to the Four Realms, and indeed, the Sidhe Elves are the defacto aristocrats of the Fey, but only within those four.

It is common to refer to four realms as 'courts' as well, though this is a translation error and one that can lead to some difficulty for the incautious.

The immortal, semi-divine rulers of the four realms are:

Spring: King Lugh, also King of the Seelie Court
Summer: Queen Brigid
Fall: King Gwynn ap Nudd, who reportedly has not been seen in an age, and whose court lies empty
Winter: Queen Morrigan, Queen of the Unseelie, known to Men as the Cruel Queen

The Sidhe do maintain cordial relations with the Alfar elves, treating them as equals and dignitaries in their realms, but otherwise have little to do with them. The Sylvain they call 'the Lost', and generally disdain them, but the do acknowledge Llothlorien and Ur-Sylvanus, and have been known to refer to the ruler of the Sylvain (currently Prince Nuada of the House of Oberon) as the 'former ruler of the realm of Earth'.

The Sidhe generally worship their soveriegns as Gods, when the subject of divinity comes up, and acknowledge no others.   All Sidhe Elves consider themselves Nobles, though the rules of etiquette for dealing with a Sidhe are quite obscure, and often rely on knowing which Realm and Court holds the vassalage of the Elf in question.   Sidhe elves are tall, with slightly elongated ears, and an almost alien beauty, touched as they are by the Fae.  Normally they do not use forged arms and armor, but rather items 'dreamt' into being, powerful in the right hands, but delicate and useless to others.  The Sidhe generally disdain archery and the woodcrafts of the Sylvain as 'beneath them', yet disgraced Sidhe have been known to take up such arts, honing their skills in the Feywild.

The Feywild:

This is a seperate dimension close to, and touching the material plain, and is the native home to all manner of fey creatures. It is a land of wild spaces and chaos, and it is held by many to be closer to the Land of Dreams than the material plain.  The Feywild is endless and unmappable, for the landscape changes frequently, though learning its ways is quite possible. There are countless 'landmarks' and fixed places, such as the thrones of the four Sovereign Realms, that one can navigate to... but first one must learn the way, or engage in a local guide. Magic helps, but there are curious correspondences. Arcane magic tends to be more powerful, but is often unpredictable, producing Wild Magic results. Nature magic is quite easy, unaffected by the Feywild itself... but prone to 'seasonal taboos' in the Four Realms.

Fey Warlocks and Sorcerers, along with Bards of all sorts, may travel the Feywild freely in most cases. Even the wild beasts of the Feywild will not harm them unless provoked.  Those who have a demonic taint, however, should avoid the Feywild entirely, even those who have merely summoned a demon or have a demonic familiar should never trust the word of a Fey, for they despise Demons. Devils, on the other hand...

Cool story.

Not sure how to take that, as its half story and half dry as sand nuts and bolts fantasy politics....  

:)





I do find myself trying to pare down the ideas when translating from 'head' to 'page', rather than getting lost in minutia.  I probably could have done another three paragraphs on the geography of the Feywild... and I honestly have no idea what the canon details of the Feywild are, since I'm 'just now' looking at 5E D&D, and I don't recall it being a realm before that.   I'm honestly tempted to skip the methodical tour of the world I'm currently doing to bounce between areas that I've actually got ideas for...  

Of course, all of this is procrastination...   I'll do more posts when I'm not ragged with sleep dep, but this weekend turned out to be a wash for writing.  I work outside, at night... and winter just hit for reals. I'm pooped.

We turn our attention then to Ireland. Originally I had planned to do all the British Isles in one post, but Ireland has always been... special.  Short-bus, window-licking special or the better sort, depending on your point of view.

So lets look at Real Ireland, circa 1236.

Unlike Stockholm (founded in 1241), Dublin exists and is well established, settled by vikings and conquered by the Normans, which for expediency we'll just call the English.  English control is fading slowly, then quickly in about 1261, then nearly totally collapses a hundred years later during the Black Death, but that's pretty much outside our relevent window.  This region around Dublin is known as The Pale, which I think has some interesting connotations for the phrase 'Beyond the Pale', which has fascinated me since I was 16 or so (For the curious there was a decent trio of Irish folksingers using that as their band name when I was about that age. They went semi-national then... I assume... were taken by elves or something...)

How does this translate into our existing fantasy model of Ireland?

Well, I'd LOVE to bring in the Milesians, the Tuatha de Danaan and all that, and I probably will in some way in later posts... but mind you I've already begun strip mining the Tuatha for 'characters' heavily, which is a nasty obstacle, and D&D already has their own rules for Formorians and Galeb Duhr, and I'd like to avoid anything that forces major rewrites of rules... not because I can't, but to keep this 'user friendly', if you like.

According to my map of the world in the 12th century, Ireland is divided into four regions/nation. Two are named, one corresponds to the Pale and the last is... borderlands?  Hey, you want better research, pay me.

Anyway: That works out reasonably well for the Four Realms of the Feywild, so I"m going to work that in.

So we have the Kingdoms of Aileach and Connaught, the Borderlands and The Pale.  I'm notionally assigning the Pale to the Winter Realm and the Borderlands to the Autumn Realm, and I arbitrarily don't care how the other two go, so Aileach is Spring and Connaught is Summer.  

Now, from what I can tell from looking into the Kings of Aileach, Aileach is actually a sort of confederation of smaller kingdoms and principalities, and I'm guessing (see earlier comment about free research) that Connaught was the same, differing only in the ruling, hmm... clan.

This works.

What also works is that the last high king of Ireland (for our timetable) died in 1198, when the English invaded.


So:

In 1236, Ireland is as it has always been, a wild and strange land, filled with strange folk.  In ages past the Sidhe and their Human retainers settled on the Island as one part of a vast and loosely arranged tribal federation.  Under constant press of the Romans, their domains in Europe, and eventually Britannia were largely shattered leaving Ireland as the last stronghold of the Sidhe in the material plane, and the last place their human retainers lived openly under their... benevolent... rule.  Waves of subsequent invaders and refugees inevitably succumbed to the powers of the fey and the Sidhe.

It should be noted, however, that while the Races of Men [Ed Note: I'm counting Halflings as a Race of Men, because I can...] are welcome to settle, provided they pay fealty to the Sidhe, the Elves have ever been less inclined to tolerate other races, particularly the monsterous races.  Ancient wars against the Formorians are well attested, but shining hosts marching on goblins and orcs and others happened with startling frequency throughout Irish History.

But some four hundred years ago a startling break in this common pattern occurred, when the Northmen began raiding Ireland in their Longships, setting up permanent trading posts on the coast, most notably Dublin.  Rather than swear fealty to the Sidhe they raided, and the Shining Hosts were expected to march to war, as they ever had...

And yet they did not. Because with the Northmen came the Alfar, and the Sidhe recognized these strange other Elves as kin of a sort.  For the first time in a thousand years the Soveriegns of the Sidhe reorganized their territories in the Material Plane, after long negotiations with the Alfar.

It was a wise move on their part, for the Northmen, though never swearing fealty to the Sidhe themselves, quickly settled into the rhythems of Irish life, marrying into the existing families as settlers ever had, while their Alfar allies mingled with the Sidhe of the Winter Realm, and while the wider world opened up to the Men of Ireland, the Sons of Danu as they were known, life changed little despite the new coastal cities.

A little over thirty years ago, however, it was all upset when the English invaded and took The Pale, the material plain realm corresponding with the Feywild Winter Realm, pressing out into the lands beyond. The Northmen had come as raiders, but had become settlers, willing... even eager, to adopt themselves to their new homes. The English came as Conquerers, well versed in Fairy Magics, and conducting brutal rituals to bind and surpress the Fey influence in their lands.  The Winter Realm is virtually cut off from the Mortal Plain, though Queen Morrigan seethes on her throne, seemingly powerless but undoubtedly scheming.  The borderlands, the domains of King Gywnn ap Nudd are not quite so throughly controlled, but the court of the Autumn King is empty, the Throne dusty and bare, and none can say where he has gone, though his few priests have power still.

Without their true King, the Irish of the Borderlands seem helpless before these new invaders.

But where is the Shining Host?  Why have the Sidhe not ridden to battle, leading their wild and fierce human retainers to sweep the conquerers from the Island?

Ahh, the answer to that question lies in the ancient pacts sworn between the Four in a time before memory.  The answer to that lies in the office of the High King.

Ireland has ever had a High King, and the vast and scattered tribes of the Celts before them had one as well, though the office had been neglected during the age of the Romans, allowing them to sweep the Sidhe and the Celts from Europe.    

You see: the Four Soveriegns, and their Hosts, may not enter the Material Plain, the Waking World, unless they are specficially invited, and the only person who has that authority is the High King, who is viewed as a sort of junior soveriegn, perhaps a Lord Mayor (if the Sidhe used such terms....) for the Lands of Men.  

It seems the English have known this, for before their first ships landed upon Ireland's shores, taking Dublin and The Pale, a strange withering sickness took the King of Connaught, the High King of Ireland, and no other has been recognized to take his place.

Without that invitation, without a High King, the Sidhe may only make small raids and sorties, and then only after tense negotiations between the Four, as they are jealous and suspicious of their peers by nature.  And with Queen Morrigan and her realm cut off, and King Gwynn ap Nudd missing, such negotiations are especially difficult, and each of the Four may only act on their own 'territory', which is why the English have not pressed through the Borderlands to seige Connaught or Aileach.

Of course, the English are finding it a hard slog, as the entire Borderlands region seems to have partially merged with the Feywild, but the shocking lack of Autumnal Sidhe has also encouraged the Formorians to stalk the lands openly.  The English have responded by bringing large numbers of bound demons, warlocks and sorcerers with infernal connnections and engaging in vast ritual workings..

There is a mystic war crossing two realms (at least) for the Soul of Ireland, and dark magics at work in the land.







Edit: undid

The Rest of Ol' Britannia:

As even a rudimentary grasp of history will remind you, the Normans (NORM!) under William the Conquerer invaded in 1066, only 170 years before the 'setting date'. For perspective, that's just about as recent as the Civil war (For Americans in the audience, anyway...).   The Norms have been spreading out and slowly but surely conquering all of the Island.  I'm not sure they ever got anywhere on the Isle of Man directly, and frankly that's so marginal I... I don't actually care to know.

Now, in 1236, Wales was pretty much entirely under English Control, English meaning Norman, with Norman Castles ringing the place and the title 'Prince of Wales' already more or less in Norman Hands, though the big legal decree preventing the Welsh from ruling themselves is still a good... say 50 years... from being enacted.  

Scotland is, well, the redheaded stepchild here.  Rulership of 'the Kingdom of Alba' has fallen rather naturally (through marriage and inheritance) to a Norman from France, and he's imported a bunch of Norman customs to the Noblity of Scotland, rather than conquest, but curiously Scotland is claimed by Norway of all damn things, though they won't try to enforce that claim for another 20 years.  The Highlanders are a thing, and will be for another 500 years more or less, but make no mistake... they are more or less stone age barbarians who only have steel because their neighbors aren't, and they will be for another 500 years. Kilts and Tartans as we know them do not exist and will not for... you guessed it, another 500 years.  The Lowland Scots are vaguely English, but with less Norman influence, and largely engage in Reiving, which is basically a rather sporting take on cattle theft, only with real bloodshed.  William Wallace has not yet been born.


So, how does Fantasy Britannia look?

Well, the Island of Man is just filthy with Hobbits... er... I mean Halflings. Yes, the Manxmen are all midgets. Suck it, I'm too lazy to care.

The Highlanders are pretty much all Half Orcs, the last 'native' orc tribes on the Island having been absorbed and bred out.   I leave it up to individual GMs to determine the presence of Dwarves in Scotland... my take is 'no', but what do I know?   There are some Sidhe scattered around the Scottish highlands as well, thinning out as you reach the Lowlands and almost entirely absent from England proper, though there are a lot of half-elves in Wales. Seriously: Have you seen Welsh names? Tell me there are no elves in Wales.

England is pretty much entirely under Norman control, meaning you have a 'lower class' of native Anglo-saxons, and a mostly french speaking viking nobility ruling over them.  Its mostly peaceful, but only just. William may have conquered the old fashioned way, but his decendants rule through superior mystic knowledge and contracts with dark powers. Lots of warlocks and sorcerers and a few mages, along with priests of dark (infernal) gods, fighting a war for the soul of Britannia against the Anglo-Saxon Druids and 'Elf-lovers'.   This means a fair amount of tieflings are found in England, both 'Norman' and unfortunately among the Anglo-Saxon natives.

The Island as a whole, but especially the English part of it, is absolutely swarming with Halfling Holes, as the pint-sized people claim Britannia as their native land, and all the 'tall folk' as invaders, though they are rather lugabricious about the state of affairs.  What did I just say? Never mind.

I'm about to turn my attention to the mainland of Europe, which I've been both anticipating and dreading, so I thought I'd do a little thinking aloud here.

As I've moved 'forward' with the geography I've tried to up my game as far as making a more "fantastic" earth, but so far its pretty much been human dominated, with small outposts of other races.  That would be fine if I were working from my usual 'runequest/generic' style, but I'm aiming this at D&D, and its not quite doing it for me.  Sure, I've pointed to Orc Hordes replacing the Mongols and all that, and I'm certain the Hobgoblin Assyrians (rather, their descendants) will give me a wealth of Fantastic if I focus on it properly, but that's tinkering on the margins.

Of course, hitting the mainland does present me a problem that I've mentioned before. Both Christianity and Islam are minor players in the setting due to the reality of the various pagan gods, which makes a lot of the conflicts of European History quite a bit... warped.  

The problem with simply swapping out various Muslim forces with random monster races, which might be thematically valid, is that it reduces complex, fully rounded cultures with 2d 'baddies', which is a no-no in my personal writing guide.    Insofar as that goes, for example, the 'Orc Mongols' should be as well rounded and interesting... even cosmopolitan... as the Real Mongols. But that leads to simple palette swapping, and that is part of what, I think, has been boring me about this project.  I'm sticking with the palette swapped mongols, because the idea speaks to me, but I'm trying to go a bit farther. I want to make parts of the setting both eerily familiar and alien, and thats a tall order.

Now: I've always loved the Gith races, for reasons I'm not entirely clear on (though the cover art of the Fiend Folio was bad-ass...), and my intent is to ground them in the setting.  The are wasted (in my opinion) as trans-dimensional nomadic raiders.

To bring those two threads together, my intention in my next post is to bring in the Gith (which group is the question...) as the Al-Andalus/Almohades... completely divorcing them from the real-world Sultanate. I may do the Gith Almohades (with the Taureg  being folded in) before I hit Iberia properly, to set the stage better.



To be honest I'm thinking this sort of Fantasy 13th Century D&D Earth might have been better as a stand-alone concept, since tying it to my Holocene Atlantis is, well, a weak thread, and I'm constantly thinking out little of that Atlantis I am using.  Luckily as we move geographically 'inwards' I can weave them together a bit more.

Scope:  I intend to 'touch' at least the 'whole world' excepting Australia and the Americas, not because I have no ideas (which, eh, maybe...), but because, simply, they don't really interact with anyone else in the scope of history at this point.  They might as well be an alternate setting for all anyone cares.... though in my schema at least two (three?) of the Atlantean Lords are found in the Americas, but for the main I've been ignoring them.


Related, I realize I need to be pulling up the Monster Manuel a bit more.  Dinosaurs in Africa is easy, and extra-dimensional gribblies can be found anywhere, but what about Beholders?  That leads to questions about pre-human civilizations and ruins in the wild places of the world and then we could talk Illithids and Aboleths. Frankly, while there is an Underdark (and I'm not talking about Nidavellr), I'd like to de-emphasize it as 'Big Game Monster Preserve', meaning moving some of those gribblies to the surface.  Hmm... I may take my MM to work with me. Feels like HighSchool all over again...

'

The Gith:

Natives to the northern and western reaches of Africa, particularly the Sahel, the Gith have ever been the target of wrath of Empires.  In the earliest days, when the Gith were one people, they found themselves beset to the East by the fringes of the Atlantean Empire, a minor conflict on its face, as Atlantis had grown greater than it could manage, but acerbated by the presence of exiles and renegade slaves, particularly the powerful and aggressive Amazons, who were driven into Gith territories by their need to escape the long arms of Atlantis.

But it was the Illithid empire growing to their south, one that seemed far more advanced than the Atlantean Empire, that was the true threat, and the Gith found themselves slaves in their own lands, forced to breed in vast numbers and used as foot-soldiers by the Illithids as they began to expand.

The Gith found themselves thrust onto the spears of three mutually hostile forces, the Yaun-ti, who were themselves exiles from Atlantis but had grown strong on the coast of Africa, their Illithid masters, who were cruel and voracious, and Atlantis itself, who found the strength for one last mighty war before it eventually turned inwards and collapsed.

The War raged for centuries, and the Gith bled and died in countless numbers, but they also grew strong.

The Gith named themselves after the one who freed them, Gith, a Slave-soldier of uncommon skill.  It was she who negotiated in secret with the Atlanteans, and then, during a vital battle turned on the Illithid Masters, and alongside the Atlanteans, crushed their great cities.

But it was that alliance with the Atlanteans that led to Gith's downfall. Perhaps.  Gith was no friend to the Atlanteans, nor the Yaun-ti, and she commanded a mighty army.  Gith intended to lead her people to war once more, not as slave-soldiers, but as conquerers.

It was Zerthimon, a former 'house slave' who confronted her, accused her of being a traitor to their kind, of being a pawn of Atlantis, having taken their 'gifts' in return for power.   The two fought, and though the outcome is not in doubt (They both died), the meaning was contended by followers of both, and the Gith, free for the first time in millennia, found they had nothing to bind them but the philosophies of stronger peoples.  Rather than bow to others, they gave themselves to the teachings of either Gith or Zerthimon, and in time came to be known as Githyanki and Githzerai, and for the next several thousand years they would fight each other frequently.

Despite this, the Gith remained one of the most advanced races on Earth, having kept the secrets of the Illithids and many secrets of the shattered Yaun-ti kingdom, as well as some of the gifts of Atlantis, including a variation on the old Atlantean 'Liquid Stone', which they use to forge their 'silver' swords.

But their fractious natures kept them disunified, unable to band together, so they fell prey time and again... to the phonecians, the Cartheginians, the Egyptians, the Hellenes, and the Romans.  Each time the Gith race would survive mostly because their true strongholds lay far from the coasts, deep in the Sahel, where only the hardy nomads thrived.

In the Seventh Century, however, the Prophet of Zerthimon, Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith, himself an Immortal who recalled the days of Gith, made alliance with the Lich Queen Vlaakith, and united in an uneasy peace between the Githzerai and the Githyanki. Seizing on the weakness of Rome (the fact that the Atlantean Lord Lacan had 'recently' abandoned the City/Empire for greener pastures was undoubtedly a factor...), they swiftly conquered the whole of the Maghreb, and in AD 711 had gained a foothold in Iberia, conquering pretty much the whole joint in only seven years.

It should be noted that the Almohades, as they called themselves, were primarily Githzerai, with a strong force of Githyanki warriors providing ground forces.  Many Githyanki refused to have anything to do with the Githzerai, and remained in the easter Sahel, while more 'pure' Githzerai, espeically those who did not follow the Prophet Zaerith Menyar-Ag-Gith, remained in the Western Sahel, to the coast.

Despite this strong division, and the violence that accompanied it over the next five centuries, the Almohade Civilization proved in many ways to be the dominant culture of all Gith, achieving heights that the smaller nomad tribes and isolated monasteries could not hope to match, but quickly copied and adapted.

Queen Vlaakith remains in the Sahel, having only given her blessing to the Prophet, rather than her full support.  Some say she intended to, and perhaps even did, betray him... for he has not been seen for over a century... but his project, his vision of a Unified Gith people continues without him.

The Githzerai who remain are the god-haters, who viewed the worship of any god, even the Spirit of Zerthimon, and his philosophies, as an abomination. The Gith were slaves, and worshipping is a thing of Slaves.  Despite the predominance of the Githzerai in Almohades, in Al-Andalus, it is the Githzerai of the Sahel who hate the Almohades the most, while the southern Githyanki look upon their wayward cousins with something akin to malicious bemusement.

And yet, defections from both groups to the Almohades continues, even as Al-Andalus collapses, reducing the power and glory of the Almohades to a rump in the Maghreb.

So I'm conflicted. I really want to get on with the work, but since I've been reading the Mabinogi, and all the related wiki searches that leads me down, I'll be damned if I don't want to really dig deep back into ol' britannia.

Plus I'd like to do up some Artifacts (again, thanks to the Mabinogi for pushing my thoughts in those directions), maybe D&D up some classic pagan gods... ok, maybe not that one. Do it for your own table, brah.

But then too, the few feedback posts I've gotten have been 'great story, brah', and that makes me want to knock out some other In Setting myths and legends....

Odd... usually I'm mentally way ahead of the typing on projects of this sort, but at the moment my 'things to do' list is growing faster than my imagination...

So time to take a note from my older posting habits and actually lay down a sort of roadmap of posts that I can follow...

First, I'm going to get that Iberia thing knocked out, which will perforce include Morocco and hopefully will give me a bit more pizzazz on the Gith Post.
Then I'll do... Hmm... I think I'll knock out the the "races of Men' expansion... hopefully I'll do a better job than I did with the Elves one (which ballooned swiftly until I truncated it...)
THird? Return to England, I think... fill that in a bit more.
Fourth: Artifacts....  Probably just a short list thing, rather than full stat-blocks.

I'm avoiding France for the moment... I really don't have any ideas yet, and that problem persists as we move east across mainland europe. I SHOULD have ideas, but I've got too much tinkering on the margins... but since I've got to do it, that'll be project five.

Then... THEN... I'll give y'all another story.  Hmm... I'm half tempted to stay focused on the Gith, but I always worry that I'll overdo it.




Also: Here's the Map I've been working from.  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/25/East-Hem_1200ad.jpg

The Iberian penninsula has been torn and riven by war for a millennia. Once domains to the Iberian Celts, ruled wisely, if not entirely fairly, by the Soveriegns of the Sidhe, the coming of the Romans saw an end to that peace, perhaps in retalliation for their service to Hannibal in the second Punic War. When the Romans grew weak and retreated, came the Visigoths, and when the Visigoths grew too weak, the Gith following the Prophet of Zerthimon arrived, conquering very nearly the entire place, which they held for centuries.

Not, however, peaceful ones, as the ancient divisions between the Gith'zerai and the Gith'yanki could not be easily bridged. Oddly, however, the Taifas of Al-Adalusia, the petty kingdoms that formed during the periods of strife, did not entirely break down on racial lines as one might expect... though the racial enemities papered over by the political realities of ruling a vast kingdom, and the religious aspects of the Prophet's Teachings were often driving forces behind the divisions, the wars, behind the various Taifas.

In the last decade, however, the resurgance of the Human kingdoms have pushed the Almohades Gith back to a narrow band of the southernmost Taifas, known as the Kingdom of Granada, though there are still a great many gith settlements and monasteries in the reconquered territories.

Iberia may thus be divided up into Portugal to the far West, Leon to the north of Portugal, Castille to the East of Leon, Navarre, the smallest of the kingdoms, wedged between Castille and France, and Aragon holding the Mediterranian coast between France as Granada, and... of course, Granada itself, holding almost the entire southern coast, but it technically a part of the greater Caliphate of Almohades, which is largely centered on the western reaches of North Africa.

It was believed until very recently that the Gith would be driven entirely from Iberia in one big push, but the reconquest stalled only 6 years earlier, in 1230, when Emir Gith'nasri was able to politically unify the remaining Taifas under his reign and reach a political detente with the Castillians, who were then leading the Reconquista.  More ever, with a lack of support from the Caliph of the Almohades (and in-fact, with Gith'nasri being a Gith'yanki, and the Caliph being a Gith'zerai...), he has formally broken ties with the Almohades, setting Granada up as an independent kingdom.  

Gith'nasri is both an extremely devout follower of Zeryth, the teachings of the Prophet, though is considered a schismatic by the Almohades, and an astute politician.  He has broken with the traditional teachings of the Gith'zerai without daring to proclaim himself an equal to the Prophet, and has encouraged the non-gith in Granada to convert to the teachings of Zeryth and banished the practice of enslaving humans as being 'un-gith' behavior.  This has had two significant benefits for the Emir, the first being that it robbed the forces of the humans a great deal of their motivation for continuing the war, and second, by allowing humans (and elves and others) to join the kingdom as citizens (if they convert, of course) has given him a force to buffer the old hatreds between the two Gith races, as well as a force to drive them closer together as an elite ruling class.

While Granada has a fairly capable military force, their continued survival depends entirely on the wealth of trade that controlling most of the Mediterranian coast provides. Granada pays tribute to the Castillians and to the Almohades to buy peace.

However, the Emir's reign is still young and not without significant growing pains. One of the most controversial 'pains' is the very recent Decree of the Veil.  Traditionally the Gith'yanki males wear veils over their faces, the custom still practiced in the Sahel, while among the Gith'zerai is is common, if not universal, for the women to go veiled.  The Emir's decision to first forgo his own veil and turban in public, and more recently to ban veils entirely in Granada has been met with considerable strife... though in the long run may serve his purpose of truly unifying the Granada Gith as a single people.


It should be noted that the capital of the Emirate, the city of Granada is, by population, the largest city in the world in 1236, though a great number of its inhabitants are still refugees from the recent wars.  The Gith of Granada are reknown scholars and mystics, and the city is not only a major hub of trade, but also of philosophy and the arts.  Gith'nasri has closed the Gith'zerai monasteries and the Gith'yanki Solons (martial schools), and has patronized human style 'universities' instead, where all the citizens of Granada can go to learn.  To his dismay, however, the departments of the universities seem to be breaking down into the classic racial lines that have always caused strife in the Almohades culture... with the Gith'zerai dominating departments devoted to philosophy and the mystic arts, while the Gith'yanki have ruthlessly shut out the Gith'zerai from the Scholas of physical arts and 'natural sciences'.

Among the Gith, however the single most controversial act of Gith'nasri is his choice to marry a Gith'zerai, to ensure his heirs will lay equal claim to the loyalties of Gith'yanki and Gith'zerai, or so he hopes.



[Ed. Note: Technically Muhammed ibn-Ahmar did not take Granada as his capital until 1238, so I'm being a bit anachronistic by building up the city as central to his (Emir Gith'Nasri) authority in 1236. Then again, almost everything I just wrote about Granada as a whole is entirely Fantastic, so I can get away with it...]


None of these reforms have gone over particularly well in the Maghreb domains of the Caliph of Almohades, where non-gith are still enslaved on a regular basis, and the division between the Gith Races remains quite strong, and racial strife is rampant.  However, as the more 'pure' domains of the Gith'zerai and the Gith'yanki to the south have both independently chosen 'now' as the time to make their feelings known about the followers of the Prophet known, there isn't much the Caliph can do about it except grit his teeth, accept the frequent gifts of tribute, and send the occasional half-hearted assassination attempt across the Sea.  With the loss of trade, he needs all the tribute he can get...

Trade lost from the south as the Gith of the Sahel are now at war with the Caliphate, and loss of trade from the Sea, as the more human-friendly Granadans are a much better port of call for sea going trade than the slave taking Caliphate.  



Culturally, the division was inevitable. The Iberian Gith have lived alongside humans in vast numbers for five hundred or more years, in somewhat more pleasant climes, and without contact with the 'purists' of the Sahel tribes.  Gith'yanki in particular of Iberia have been 'free' for generations from the tyranny of the Lich Queen, while the Gith'zerai have been far more occupied with administrative and beaurocratic duties, leaving them much less time for isolationist practices or, for that matter, the rather extreme asceticism usually favored by their monastics.  By the Reconquista, the Iberian Gith barely even speak the same language as their southern kin, though still intelligable with the Caliphate Almohades Gith.   On top of that, virtually no Dragon Riders remain among the Iberian Gith'yanki, though Gith'nasri does lay claim to that 'title', having inherited the loyalty of his father, and grandfather's Dragon, Alhambra.



EDIT::::  Bah, I forgot to add that Gnolls are shockingly common in Iberia.  Pretend I worked that in somewhere in the text above, eh?

The Races of Men:

First one must begin with a disclaimer that the very term 'Races of Men' is not without significant controversy and confusion.  The simple fact is that the term originates, not with Men, but with Elves, and in their rather poetic view of life, they simply divide the world into 'Elves' and 'not-elves', with further subdivisions of each group.

So in its oldest of uses, the term Races of Men really translates into 'People who are Not-Elves, but are not implacably hostile', more or less.

During the Age of Atlantis, the common attitude among non-elves was that all 'others' were just that... 'others', no further definition was necessary. The Atlanteans, as a people, did not consider the Sylvain so much a separate race as a separate tribe, at least at first.  The People of the Swamps did consider the Sylvain they encountered to be 'Forest Spirits', and it has been held by many scholars that the Spirits of the Rocks mentioned in the Tale of Lem may refer to Dwarves...

With that in mind, a reasonable definite of Races of Men might be held to be those races native to the surface of the Earth, which is not without problems as no one considers the Orcs or the various Goblins to be among the Races of Men, which brings us back to the Elvish definition of old.

This is not a purely academic question, as magic of all sorts may rely on definition of Men and 'not men' of some sort or another.     As a full study of the issue would take some time, let us instead dwell upon the much simpler task of discussing some of the known 'races of man'.


Lemurians:  Known to some as the 'First Men', or more accurately the first race of 'civilized' men, who eschewed cannibalism and formed large, complex political arrangements.  The Lemurians are a tall, lean people, generally pale of countanance, with dark hair and eyes, with an affinity for alchemistry and other similar arts.  Lemuria has long been held to have sunk the same day as Atlantis, but this is false. Lemuria had been 'sinking' slowly for centuries, and the Lemurians... never the most exploratory of people... largely abandoned their home, scattering across the world and losing much of their culture. A large colony of Lemurians, considered by many to be the True Lemurians, settled on the Moon, and have virtually no dealings with the people of Earth, while a second 'tribe' adapted to living underwater... their fate is unclear.

Swamp Folk: An extinct people, the natives to the region where Atlantis was settled. They were tall and strong, proud but primitive even by the standards of the day.   They are said to have had brown skin and black hair, but with pale eyes.  

Atlanteans: A mongrel people, the Atlantean ruling class were, for many centuries, made up of pure blooded Lemurians and people of other exotic heritage, but the vast body of the people were taken from the slaves of the Swamp Folk and a hundred other 'races', not all of them human.  By the end of Atlantis they were a distinct 'race', and reasonably pure blooded populations can be found all over the world even today. Atlanteans exhibit high degrees of dimorphism, the males being tall and powerfully built (to rival Orcs in mass), while the women tend to be small and slight, with wide hips and full breasts.  Atlanteans are a swarthy people, appearing 'semitic' or 'arabic' in coloration, though with a wider 'arc' of hair and eye colors.    Atlanteans are called the Cursed Peoples, due to the number of curses that seem to afflict them.  Among other things, Atlanteans seem driven beyond all sanity to pursue immortality, as well as the Curse of Amazon and others.

Amazon:  A 'descended' race of Atlanteans, exclusively women of Atlantean heritage who have taken up arms.  Amazons look very unlike Atlantean women, being as tall and nearly as muscular as Atlantean men, and with slim hips and small breasts.  Amazon women can only bear daughters, who are themselves Amazons from birth.  All Amazons must take Martial classes, though an Atlantean Woman who becomes an Amazon retains any non-martial class levels she already had.

Halflings: Native to the british Isles, they are among one of the most contentious candidates for 'Races of Men' one can find, yet mystically this 'half men' do seem to qualify as 'men'. While rare outside of the Isles, they have spread across northern Europe in small, generally remote, villages.  Halflings favor homes carved out of the earth, but are not subterranean in any sense.

Men of Danu: The last remanents of the pure Celts, who themselves are reputed to be descended from Atlanteans, though not directly.  When Atlantis fell, many of her far flung colonies collapsed into utter disarray, and many fleeing the collapse of the empire found homes among the elves, who for reasons poorly understood, chose to shelter and protect 'Men' from the cruelties of the world... or at least the Men of Atlantis.  One large group of refugees fell in with the Sidhe in northern Europe, where their leader gave himself to a Sidhe named Danu (a Goddess?), and their children lead the refugees in the millennia that followed, paying homage to the Sidhe Kings and Queens who remained in the Feywild.  Their descendants can be found in large numbers in Ireland, and lesser numbers in Wales and Alba (Scotland), but also in scattered pockets in Iberia and northern Europe, though they no longer consider themselves Danaan.

Goths, Slavs, Han and other 'real world' tribes

Marginal Cases:

Gith: it is held by some scholars that the Gith were a Race of Men long ago, but during their enslavement to the Illithids were transformed into 'something else'.   How 'human' the Gith are, mystically, is a matter of some debate.

Yaun-Ti: During the long years of Atlantis a number of Atlanteans sought to escape the yoke of Andromalius and his Law-Magic. This was hardly unusual, and the Atlanteans had long sought to yoke the power of various 'entities' from beyond the Mortal Plane. What made the Yaun-Ti distinct was the unique nature of their greatest failure, and their greatest success.  Transformed by ritual magics and alchemical experimentation, the followers of Yau (which is what Yaun-Ti means in Atlantean), were exiled, driven from the Empire under pain of death (which is to say: they were murdered in large numbers, with only a few survivors escaping with their lives), eventually settling in the rainforests of West Africa.... shockingly near the Illithid Kingdom that was even then spreading South and East. It may be that the ancient Yaun-Ti stole secrets of transformation from the Illithids, refining their efforts at 'self improvement' thereby.  Unlike the Gith, it is indesputable that the Yaun-Ti were once Human... and in fact among the lesser castes of Yaun-ti they fully qualify under magical ground (Bane against Human weapons work on them, for example).

Tieflings and Gensai: Common in the later Era of Atlantis, and not uncommon among the Lemurians in Exile, the half-human nature of these beings is universal, while the 'other half' is... well, what makes them whatever race they are.  While new Tiefling, Gensai and Aasimar may be born at any time, most are descendants of old, and it is not uncommon for 'kingdoms' of "bloods" to form, bound by common ancestry, particularly among the Tieflings.  Scholarly debates about their inherant humanity abound, but the truth is that most of them are not prone to magical 'human only' effects, though cross-breeding with full blooded humans is possible, the child inevitably inherits their non-human parent's traits.

Half Orcs: A unique case. Some isolated tribes of Orcs (which are known to be NOT part of the Races of Man) have been entirely bred out of existence, resulting in stable populations of Half-Orcs, who ARE part of the Races of Man... as well as Orcs. The Highland Clans of Alba are very notable for this, they have been 'pure' half orc for so long that they don't even think of themselves as half-breeds, but as their own people.  It should be noted that racial strife between 'Men' and 'Orcs' is a relatively new phenomenon... in the days of Atlantis, the Orcs were just another 'tribe' wandering the Holocene landscape. Its only been in the last two thousand years where the conflicts between Men and Orcs have been increasingly chalked up to inherent racial divisions, with the Orcs increasingly seen as 'outside' civilization. Orcish archers were popular mercenaries in Greece dating back to the early bronze age at least.

So... I've had a workup for France on my desktop for most of a week now and I haven't posted it because I set up that stupid list earlier.  Also, I've been sick as a dog.  

I'm feeling very hit or miss on the Races of Man post, some good ideas, mostly crap.

Rather than do a proper revisit of England I thought I'd just lay down my mental notes about where I was thinking of going with it. Knowing me, that will eventually bloom into a full fledged post.

I mentioned in Ireland that a mystical war between the Fey magics of the Irish and Sidhe with the Feindish magics of the Norman conquerers (the English) is going on.   In my mind this goes back to the very day of William the Conquerer. Historically, his planning for the invasion was very involved and meticulous, taking something like two or three years of carefully concealed manueverings to get his fleet and army ready, then you have the Battle of Hastings, where luck favored William at least twice over (First, the Saxons having to deal with two invasions in two different parts of The Island of the Mighty, and Second being the Death of Harold which caused the English (saxon) army to collapse. Possibly killed by a stray arrow to the face.)

Then you have the idea that the Head of Bran, which is buried under the Tower of London is supposed to prevent invasions so long as it faces the coast, and England seems remarkably 'invasion free' after the Normans, which leads to a 'what happened to Bran' moment (for the purposes of Mystic History) with regards to the Normans themselves (For that matter Harold Hadrada...), and lastly the simple fact that by 1236 the Normans are on the verge of politically controlling the entire British Islands as well as all of France, only stopped by King Louis IX's rather amazing political run, hard on the heels of his regent mother blocking a political marriage that might have sealed Normal control over all of France.

Two centuries of straight winning seems a bit 'lucky', eh?

So there you have it, the bones of our Mythic England.

William the Conquerer didn't just set up a master-stroke invasion, in order to conceal his build up he made dark pacts with fiends (Devils, I'm going with devils for reasons), both for powers (concealing his actions from King Harold, among others), but also for information. It was his patrons that told him of Bran's Head, and William made his way to London in secret and enacted an ancient ritual, shedding his blood upon the giant skull and becoming mystically the rightful King of England (he did have a claim, after all...), allowing his invasion to be unmolested by the power of Bran.

But good old Willie couldn't do all this himself, or at least he wasn't prepared to make the sorts of sacrifices necessary to handle it solo (and being a good general (which he was), entails knowing how to trust subordinates and to delegate), so he built up a cabal of Norman Nobility under himself that were all engaged in the same practices. William may be long dead (or... not?) but the Cabal remains.  

It should be noted that the Normans do not worship the fiends. They bargin with them, make deals with them, and treat them as untrustworthy allies... but they don't set up profane churches or any of that nonsense.  When it comes to selling souls and blood rituals, they almost always go 'outside the family', preying on the saxons, the welsh, the scots, the irish and especially the Sidhe when they can get them, which is one reason why the Normans are so hated and feared, and so successful.  

But there is another reason they are winning. Tieflings. More specifically, in order to rise in power in Norman Society as an outsider, one must make fiendish pacts, the most common of which is to 'buy' ones way into the Norman Nobility by blood, by allowing one's children and heirs to be Devil-Blooded.  They tend to remain in the lowest ranks of the nobility, these devil-blooded children of the saxons and welsh and others, but if they move to the borders and fight to extend Norman control over the Islands, they can rise in power swiftly.  

Whenever possible, however, the Normans avoid open warfare, preferring to win through political manuevers, legalistic wranglings and sheer pressure.  They encourage abuses against recalcitrant populations, but protect those who swear allegiance to their new masters. The corruption from dealing with devils becomes an asset to teh Normans, turning the worst excesses of their failings upon the very people they are trying to convert and, as noted, protecting the loyal from those same predations.  If a Norman knight is discovered to, say, have a prediliction for cannibalism after a few too many bad deals with Devils, he isn't punished, he's simply sent out to the borderlands and told he can eat as many highlanders as he can kill.

Real France, 1236:

King Louis, known as Saint Louis, has reigned since he was twelve years old in 1226, though his mother Blanche only recently (1234) ceased to be Regent in All but Name, when Louis married Margaret of Provence.   Louis the IX sits uneasy on his throne, as you might say the conflicts between wife and mother are the very model of fueds between wife and mother-in-law. It was so bad that Blanche ordered Louis from Margaret's side when she was giving birth.

More importantly, however, is understanding the politics of France at the time.  Louis was the King of France and the Prince of Paris... as King he had little authority over France as a whole, and as Prince of Paris he was fueding for power with the other Princes of France (which at this time also included King Henry II of England...).  King Louis pretty much marks the turning point of France from a collection of fueding princes into a proper kingdom, a process that continues throughout his long reign and beyond, but in 1236 he has barely just begun, and it is arguably Blanche's astute manuverings in 1230 or so that help keep Henry from taking all of France.   As one might tell by his Sainthood, Louis IX enjoys a close relationship with the Pope. In 1248 he goes on the Second Crusade, during which his mother dies.

Nifty stuff.

Fantasy France, 1236:

Child King takes crown, etc, etc.  

Some 'principalities' of France worth noting: Normandy, Toulouse, Anjou, Paris, Provence, Burgundy, Languedoc, even Flanders may be considered, if weakly. Not a complete list, and it is important to note that most people identify with these regions, not with 'France', which will continue until around 1600 or so.

Sidhe and Danaan descendants are common in Normandy, Brittany and so forth, less common further south.  Brittany is home to the legendary lost city of Ys, which if I really want to be silly can be a late period outpost of Atlanteans, which of course sank beneath the waves because Atlanteans be cursed, yo.

Normandy is practically part of England in all but simple geography, and in this fantasy setting that means a LOT of diabolic pact warlocks and sorcerers.  Normandy is practically the homeland of Ogre Mages (Oni, yes. I know...), as well, which makes things ugly here.  Some are living openly, allied to the Normans, and actively engaged in hunting the lands for Sidhe exiles from the Feywild, others continue to live in secret as they always have.

Toulouse, in the south, maintains a great deal of power in the land for their use of 'Ogre mercenaries', which is a tongue in cheek term for slavery. Ogres are quite common, if in small numbers, across Europe, particularly in the mountainous regions. The people of Toulouse don't kill them off like others do, but instead capture them and subject them to rather brutal practices of 'taming' them to use as shock troops in war. It isn't that Toulouse has a LOT of Ogres, or that they are particularly common in Southern Frace (they aren't), its just that a few very heavily armed berzerking Ogres are pretty much the equivalent of Mideval Tank Battalions... and the Toulouse aren't adverse to feeding their Ogres enemy prisoners.

Meanwhile, werewolves are a major problem for everyone in the south, and rumors of a curse on Provence, and its ruling house, dog the new Queen, Margaret.   The Burgundians are playing a dicey game, playing off the German Holy Roman Empire and the French King to maintain their independence, and rumors of Fey alliances and ancient blood pacts run rampant.

To keep some sort of parity with his domestic enemies, Louis IX has deepened his ties to the Church of Christ, marking the farthest West that the church has expanded politically at this time.  As a predominantly humanocentric faith, and one opposed to man-eating monsters and diabolic pacts, the Church is a staunch ally in the fight to unify France under Louis.