Much has been said of the Titans and the kingdoms of the Lizard Folk, I will not dwell upon them. Of the many kingdoms that doubtlessly predated the rise of the Titans there is nothing to say, for they left no evidence or artifacts that have survive the ravages of time.  Truly, one would have to interrogate the oldest Gods to learn any of their secrets, and in many cases there was little to learn.

As none of those kingdoms would have been remotely recognizable to us, not even in terms of the long lost races that populated them, they are of little interest either.  Speculation is all that remains, as the Titans were quite through in their conquests until the very end.

Let us confine our studies to those great kingdoms of the Mythic Ages, and preferrably those ancient kingdoms of Men that are but whispered legends.

I speak of Gompileste and Tibor, of Hiidiea and Morkath and finally mighty Irem.

If there is time we might turn a gimlet gaze upon the lost cities of other races, Shining Tuath and later Danu, the so-called First Hold of the Dwarves, Karaknazzar, of the unnamed and unknown city of the Goblins and of Mo'garen, destroyed for Elvish Pride and Hatred.

If there is but time.


Of the cities of the Humans, Tibor is the first, and some might say the greatest.   It arose during the very first Goblin Wars, prospered as the cities of other races fought for their very survival.  It is held in some traditions as a lost eden, a mythic home unlike any other. The Elves and Dwarves know better, and scholars who are of less romantic natures can find much that speaks to a real place, with all the glories and worries that a real place would have.

Said to lie on a mighty island, mountainous and rugged, Tibor is the cradle of Man.  Many believe that the Island lay to the south, though only a few ancient elvish maps marked its rough location, and the elves do not measure as men do.   Dragons made their homes in the mountains, unconcerned with the actions of lesser species in the valleys far below.  

Those first men were said to be tall and strong, long and clean of limb, keen of eye and sharp of wit, perfect and unlike other men.  They made their home beneath dragons, carved their homes of living rock and built their cities of stone.  They plundered the bones of the mighty beasts, making weapons and armor of unsurpassed quality. They mastered not only elemental sorceries, but even turned their gaze upon the elder sorceries untapped from ancient days when Gods walked the earth, mastering secrets hidden from even the Elves.  They turned their weapons and arts against the Dragons, who in that age flew thick through the skys, darkening the land the world over.   When the Dragons would not submit the First Men slew and slew and slew until even the Dragons knew fear.

Thus the Tibor are forever known as the Dragonlords, and they rode the fearsome beasts over the face of Haven, burning entire armies of Goblins to ashe and demanding great tribute from all they had saved, and because of their fearsome might, they had it, even from the Elves of the Siti, even from mighty Danu, who bowed to none.

The Tibor were the undisputed masters of the world for hundreds of years. In their arrogance (and it is always arrogance that lays such men low in the old stories) they turned their attention to the underside of Haven, to the demon realms, where they confronted the Daeylyraeth and demanded tribute. The evil ones refused and a terrible war was fought, demon magic against dragons and Elder Sorceries, and to their horror the fallen ones found that they were losing, even dying to the First Men.

And in their cowardice they struck back in the night, slaying the families of the Tibor in their beds.  Thus did Tibor fall in a single night.

That is the story, though there are some glaring problems with it. The Demon Realms are not merely home to the Daeylyraeth, but home to the actual Demons, who are akin to the Gods, and even Tibor's might was no match for the Gods. Even the Titans before them had fallen when the gods turned their faces away from them.  There are tales that suggest the Fallen Ones did not flee to the Demon Realms until after Tibor's rise, that their lands were the only haven from the rampaging Goblins, though the price of that sanctuary was too high for mere mortals to bear.  If the Fallen were victorious, then why would they then flee?  And what of the Dragonlords themselves? If all Tibor was slain in a single night, how and why did men appear later, if debased.

However, it is no myth, that much is known. There is a mighty, and rugged, island to the south, beyond the Jungles of the lizard folk, and on it are massive ruins of stone cities, though exploration of the area is dangerous in the extreme. Ancient curses linger and are said to target Men with particular viciousness, and the ruins themselves are dangerous in a thousand other ways.  At least one dragon is known to lair upon the Island, an evil beast with a taste for flesh known as 'Gorehide', though smaller and crueler than many of his kin, which some say makes him far older.  

The Elves, particularly the eldest of them speak with reverence of the Dragonlords, and a few 'eye witness' accounts they recorded eons ago suggest much truth to the tales.

And then there are the artifacts, scattered here and there.  A sword of unusual make, sized for a giant of a man, said to belong to Versilimatu, a gauntlet of the same odd metal found in a cave on the coast of Tenebria, a crown worn by a King of the Reve, handed down since time immemorial, of unusual design and set with strange purple gems that glow with an inner light. Legend tells that if the gems are removed and arranged in a certain pattern (now lost) that one might become a God... or Demon.

Similar Gems can be found in ancient places, sometimes set in objects, othertimes lying loosely, or lying on a tablet... of stone of metal or even ancient cracked wood... set with indents and lines, like some strange game.  Magi and preists swear such stones are cursed, unholy things, and even the servants of demons will not touch them. Most who test the Gods find to their brief regret that such things are not toys. Lucky ones merely find them unpleasant, though there is always the tale of a man who moved but a single stone on such a tablet and woke to find himself a king in a land made from his very dreams.

Somewhat less mysterious, but more curious is a device of wonderous craftsmanship found in Renbluve. An egg of sorts, crafted of polished stone and rough greyish metal of fabulous hardness, it was a mere object of art at one time, a gift to some tribal chieftan from the elves during the late Mythic Age. During the Banality, when no magic worked at all, it floated above the ground, occasionally chiming, as if marking time.  When Versilimatu made his home there, he took the Egg, which by that time barely floated an inch above the ground, treating it as a pet almost.   During the siege of Renbluve, the Warlord's sorceries frequently misfired if aimed at the upper city, and the Egg spun about the throneroom wildly the closer the Warlord came.   Many kings of Renbluve have considered the Egg the soul of the city, though the Elves claim it was an idle gift from a Dragonlord, long ago, a petty trinket, no more.

It is said that the Dragonlords, that is those of the First Men who had tamed and rode the Dragons in particular, were fond of puzzles and tests of cunning, challenging each other to riddles of all manners.  

Obviously a number of their creations have survived, undiminished by the long years.  They are said to have been beloved of The Smith, and the God Yrsatra is said to be the First Dragonlord, raised to godhood, though he is rarely worshipped today, being only popular in a small mysterycult in Nis.

If Tibor was the first of the Kingdoms of Men in the Mythic Age, Irem was the last.

Much has been said of how Irem fell, and in falling took the world with them.  They dabbled in arts and magics that man was not meant to know, they sought to become Gods.

It is said that the Sorcerers of Irem knew more secrets of Magic than any other, more even than the Titans.

This is not so, I tell you know. They merely dared more than any other.  But during the age of the Titans magic was a different thing, the Gods changed how magic worked.

The Dragonlords of Tibor discovered what is now known as Elder Magic. They were bold and wise in equal measure, for Elder Magic seeks to tap directly the Fountainhead, the Source of All, and is utterly unforgiving of mistakes.  Thus the Dragonlords were able to perform magics equal to, yet incredibly different from, the feats of the Titans.  

The Sorcerers of Irem were the inheritors of their secrets, but not their wisdom. The destruction of Irem was a self made apocalypse of Elder Magic gone awry, and it nearly destroyed the entire world.

Irem was found far to the north, north of what was later Nornsa, north of the Elven city of Illyacli (Sp...), the city of Seven Spires.  It is said then that the land was lush and forested, heavy with lakes filled with fish.  The people of Irem were not so tall as the First Men, but yet taller than the men of today, pale of skin, with hair and eyes of violet.  They lived well, of the richness of their lands and were at peace with their neighbors for a time.  They used powerful magics to live lives of great ease.

Knowledge, above all else, was prized in Irem. As they mastered Elder Magics, possibly inherited from the Dragonlords they claimed descent from, the land warped and shrivelled and died around them, becoming a vast desert.  And Still Irem flourished.  They raised mighty cities of Brass from nothing, conjured servants the likes of which were unknown to the world.

And in their arrogance they sent forth agents to plunder the secrets of the Elves, seeking the lost magics of the Titans.  Such was their power that the Elves accepted this in silence until they managed to steal one of the ancient weapons of the Titans, one of the four dooms.  Yih Siashi, the Waster had been unleashed in ages past by Darsyltier, Hir Joiyui, the Corrupter could not be left in uncertain hands.

And so the Siti called upon ancient pacts with the fearsome tribe of Tuatha, and the shining hosts of Danu marched upon Irem.  Only a few of the sorcerers met them in battle, matched by millenia old warpriests, the servents of Irem in all their terrible power matched by warriors who were masters of their craft when Tibor was a simple village.  Hir Joiyui, to the relief of the Elves, was never unleashed against their armies.

The war lasted until the end of the age, laying waste to what little life remained to the northern forest. The Sorcerers of Irem laid waste to the City of Seven Spires for hosting the Tuathan's, ravaging it with powerful storms of magic, tearing the white stones asunder.

The Tuatha laid seige to the cities of brass, but could not peirce the walls nor the mystic defences of the city.   The sorcerers themselves were unconcerned with such mortal troubles.

To be cont.

There are very few 'eye witness' accounts of the last moments of the Mythic age.  Stragglers in supply trains reported hearing a terrible sound, perhaps as if something massive were tearing, and the very ground for miles surrounding the great City of Irem turn into what is now known as Amorphia, a strange and terrible liquid that dissolves all it touches.  All but the city itself, which sank majestically into the Chaos Sea.  The sky became a livid bruise and terrible half formed beasts crawled from the new sea, and in an instant the city of Irem and the Shining Host of Tuatha was no more.

Thousands died that day, even far beyond Irem and the new wastes created by the spreading sea of Chaos. In that instant all magics, new and old, ceased to function, even the Gods turned their faces away from the people, it was a century or more until they would return.


There are many artifacts of Irem left in the world. The wastes are littered with them, the trophy halls in the ruins of Danu presumably hold more captured on the battlefields. The Dwarves and Elves and even Orcs at one time traded with the mighty Sorcerers.  They are distinguished by their extensive use of Brass, glass and crystal and even heavy use of Orichalcum in their construction, though more than a few examples include the strange purplish crystals similar, but not identical to, artifacts from Tibor.  No device, no artifact, from Irem was mundane, all used magic to great degrees.  

The greatest artifacts from Irem were their Servants, said to be conjured from the very substance of magic itself. Neither living nor truly machine, but great, and unique, creations of unliving metal given life by the sorcerers arts.  Most are long destroyed, or are lost in the Sea of Chaos, though like all the creations of Irem they appear immune to the corrosive effects of Amorphia.  Occasionally, however, one might find a long dormant Servant, mistaken for an exotic statue perhaps, and by chance activate it.... the results are often lethal, for such guardians are implacable monsters, invulnerable to weaponry, impossible to stop or outrun.  Rarely however one might be found that merely awaits a new master to take charge of it.  

Not all Servants were creations of brass and crystal. Here alone the creations of Irem are truly unique, with many ancient tales of living breathing beasts, unlike any in the world, or living bone, clouds of intelligent gas and more.  An active Servant that can be controlled it worth a king's ransom.

The Jewel of the Eye of Heaven, Gompileste

Of all the ancient cities of Man, Gompileste is both the finest and the most mysterious.  None record the first settling the city, where or when they came from.  As the men of Tibor, whom we can reliably claim shared an era with them, they were of the Mythic First Men, tall and strong and beautiful.  There are tales that the Dragon Riders found succor and comfort in the arms of the Maidens of ancient Gompileste after the destruction of their home, though they did not linger o'er long.  

It is written that Gompileste (or Goampileste, Gomepelstre and other varients depending upon the literary tradition) was beautiful, beloved of the Gods.  A thousand wonders filled her walls, and even the walls themselves were said to shine with the colors of the rainbow, day and night.   The Singing Garden of Hikkremal, the Crystal Fountains, the Bridge of Day and Night... all these and more were said enrich the lives of even the lowliest occupant, and were said to be enough that even the Gods would lounge in the gardens and plazas of the city.

What then became of the city? Of that, none can say with certitude. No enemies beset her no disaster was fortold by her oracles or lamented by the bards of the ages.  It is suggested by a few wags that the city was too grand, to beautiful and the Gods grew jealous and possessive and took her entire to the heavens, or perhaps the Underworld. Others say the Demons stole her away to their realm.  None can say, and no maps say with certitude where she lay, though it is believed by many that she lay in the south.

I will tell you know with certitude that many stories are true, Gompileste was beautiful and beloved of the Gods, that when Irem destroyed the Mythic Age, the not all the Gods worked to preserve the sanctity of Haven but instead strove mightily to save all that was beautiful and great about Man, and that the finest treasures of the city were secreted away from the mortal realms.  Gompileste did not die, but she did fall, becoming a merely mortal place, and in time this lesser city rose to prominance once more as Urtesh, home of Bovard, and later still the City of Palaces, the capital of Tenebria.

During the Banality, when no magic worked, many of the treasures of Gompileste were abandoned, forgotten, buried, just as the buildings were buried and built upon, and again and again as dynasties came and went within Tenebria.  Many of the long forgotten treasures of the earliest days of the modern era, and the glories of Gompileste were hidden away in secret rooms and vaults deep within the palaces, forgotten by murderous intrigues and violent reprisals. Even as magic returned to the world, so to did the lost glories of Gompileste regain their hidden lustre, but now far from the sights of men.

More still, even as the Gods stole from Man the grandest treasures of the city, in their hurry they left wounds upon the mortal realm where a lucky or talented man might slip into the godly realm and expirence the time lost treasures for himself, or perhaps steal the secrets of the Gods themselves!

Neither the Gods, nor the earliest Kings of Tenebria or Urtesh before them were fools however to leave such treasures unguarded.  By ancient oaths of loyalty the very first of The Thousand still guard the catacombs and dungeons beneath the city, and creatures divine and profane may slip through the cracks in the world to prowl the halls, or back into the border realms of Gompileste's filched glories.

But what treasures do we speak of? Beauty is found throughout the world, though never again in the concentration found here.  But the beauty of Gompileste was not mere accident nor caused by excessive vanity. Indeed no, for while the First Men did not have the immortal lives of the Elves, they possessed a burning passion to be the best at all things.  In Gompileste all men sought to become the finest masters of their arts, be they swordplay or fishing, lovemaking or sculpture.  And from that skill, perfected over ages, they produced items of great wonder.  All skills were mastered by them, and if one could but decipher the secret arts they recorded, even but a fraction of it, one could begin the long climb from merely mortal mastery of a skill to the supreme levels displayed by their greatest.  Much of what was left behind was done so with the intent to teach the survivors.  Much else was left that was merely mundane, but so perfectly crafted that it seemed magical in nature, and these were but the humblest examples of their crafts.

It is said the crown of Bovard could not be claimed by his followers, for to look to closely upon it was to be struck blind by its radience, and the greed it spurred in those lesser men destroyed much of what he had wrought in his life.  Surely this was a lost artifact of Gompileste, was it not?  Imagine the treasures that await one cunning enough to claim them?

In the days between the fall of Tibor and the rise of Irem there was a time of greatness and tragedy. We speak of the twin nations of Hiidiea and Morkath, who rose as brothers, and slew each other over the basest of reasons.

The twin jewels occupied either side of the Sea of Gattipol, growing rich off the shared trade between their nations. Each grew to command a mighty kingdom spreading forth to the north or south respectively.   It is said that though they arose seperately, in time they came to share a single culture, the sons of the Kings of Morkath were raised in the Palaces of Hiidiea, the Daughters of the Hiidiean Dynasts were tutored in the gymnasiums of Morkath...

This then, was the problem, for in time the sons and daughters of the ruling houses of these great cities came to love one another, to marry one another. Who should rule each city, where should the capitol of joined empire lie? The history of the enemity is covered best by the ancient Song of Suicarth, still popular in the west of both continents.  

War then became inevitable, just as it is said in the Song, and the nations of Men went to war with one another for the first time.   It is said that the war lasted generations, the enemity growing more bitter, more vicious as the age turned.   In time it came to pass that cunning plans were hatched and the armies of the two nations launched surprise attacks, each destroying the city of their rivals, salting the earth before returning home triumphantly... to find their own home lost, their people slaughtered. In rage and grief each army turned once more and fought their enemy to the last on the Plain of Crimson Tears, though to be in the modern valley known as Ni-Shugah.  

The total devestation wrought by this war has left scholars with little more than tales, for the twin jewels of the west left few artifacts.  Still, those who sail the oceans west of the Sea of Gattipol, and those who dive the waters of that sea occasionally recover fantastical items, statuary and artworks mostly, of incredible utility.   The cities worked primarily in stone and wood, at least such as their surviving artifacts attest, and despite the horrific war that devestated them most of those same artifacts are more interest to tradesmen than warriors.

It is of note that Hiidiea was known to many as 'The City of Pillars', the southern city of the two.  In Nis there is said to be an obelisk that is older than the city itself, recovered by some ancient king. This obelisk is known to be an artifact of incredible power, though no modern sage can say precisely what it does or how it is meant to be used. The people of Nis revere it as 'The Fang of the Serpent', who protects their city and has led to their prosperity even in the heart of the Dragon Desert.

Tautha and Danu, Glory and Pride

The Siti may be the oldest, most settled of the many Elvish peoples, but even they acknowledge that the best of them went south, not once but twice over... and twice over were destroyed.  To speak with an elf of their southern kin is to see joy and sorrow war in their eyes.

Barring only the lost cities of the Titans, whose ruins have never been found and whose existance is but a legend whispered by the eldest of Elves, Tuatha was the first great city ever raised, and the first to fall.

It is said that the Tuatha were driven from the Siti, not in anger or in exile but because they felt they could not grow amidst their ancient settled cousins.  They wandered south for a generation, finding themselves upon the banks of a great sea, and ever determined called up two great shells of the sea to carry them across the waves to their new home.

They went south and south again until they came upon a great plains where not even the mountains would rise above them and there they made their home, naming it after the one who had led them, and themselves after them.

This being the short form we have left, tragically, the bulk of the legends regarding the travails of the Tuathans. It is among the longest and most beautiful and tragic epic poems of the elves and lacks many of the unique flourishes that frequently bore listeners of other races, making it uniquely accessable despite the reluctance of the Elves to share this poem, of all their many works, with outsiders.

Regardless, Glorious, Shining Tuatha rose above the plains, a city built from a living forest planted by the Tuathans from seeds taken from their ancestral homeland.  Tuatha, they say, was grown rather than built.

In time Shining Tuatha fell into a war, minor but bloody, against a tribe of orcs to their south, in the foothills of the mountains the Tuathans refused to see.  History records this only because it was from beneath those foothills that the first Goblins appeared and destroyed both the orcs and the Tuathans in a single night of hunger.  Many survived, and the first Goblin Wars had begun, and the ancient enemity between orc and elf, mentioned mostly in legend, was put to rest.


It would be many centuries, in fact the very end of the Goblin Wars before any other Elves would brave the long journey south to rebuild, spurred by wounded pride.  The Dwarves had truly saved the surface races from the Goblins, breaking their hordes, slaying their leaders, and the Danu could not accept that they, who had been the primary warriors of their peoples, could not have done the same.

And so they fled, seeking to rebuild shining Tuatha, whom they declared had fallen rather than surrendered.

There is no living saga of the march of the Danu to the south. A thousand primative tales exist, outsiders looking in at these proud peoples. One such tale speaks of how a shining host that crossed the tempestous seas on foot, refusing to allow the waves to touch their glory.  Another speaks of the destruction of a place and peoples known only as the Jebbu Don.

The second City of Tuatha was built upon, or rather IN the ruins of the first. Not grown, as the First had been. The trees remained, but the Danu built of stone and wood and more fantastic things, and if legend is accurate in multiple layers, a great and moving city of many floating and gracefully circling parts.

Where most of the Elvish tribes left few enough marks on the flow of history, the Danu roared across her pages with a vengence.  They fought the First Men of Tibor, led crusades against the remanents of the Goblins, fought Dragons for honor and glory.  Many of the great Heroes of the age may be traced to old tales of Danu warriors far from home, but it was their shining hosts that made them most famous.

And when their brothers in the distant north called, the Danu marched upon Irem. The rest is history. Glorious Tuatha, made as she was from the very substance of Magic could not stand in the drab days of the Banality and the mightiest of heroes was no match for the Sea of Amorphia that threatened to overwhelm the world.

There are, of course, two different sorts of artifacts marking the two distinct tribes that occupied this fabled city deep in the south.

The original Tuathans worked exclusively, so far as history and all recovered artifacts agree, in life.  They grew their city from the very trees, their weapons and armor were made of living bone and more exotic materials.  An ancient panoply residing Illiaclei, and bearing antique elvish script is said to be of Tauthan origins. It is made of, if appearances may be believed, a single carven pearl and the wind stirs about it as if it breathed.  It remains the single artifact of martial nature known in the entire world.

The Danu inherited much of ancient Tuathan magics and crafts, though their mastery was on the arts of war, their efforts more practical than beautiful, though for an elf the difference is minute.  Unlike their spiritual ancestors, the Danu worked in both more mundane, and more exotic materials.   While the Tuathan Panoply is accompanied by a deceptively simple looking wooden sword, one that remains sharp as a razor, the Danu seemed to avoid this one substance above all else, preferring to work in Mithril and stone, among other things.

It is said that the Danu had mastered a means of taking the substance of dreams and making it real. Certainly the fabled 'Irem Collection' held in the city of Nornsa, said to be used by the knights who fought on behalf of Versilimatu, is a stirring collection of arms and armor the likes of which baffle even the greatest minds.  Swords made of mist, cloaks of the finest silk that can not be cut or pierced by any means, ever more fantastic items even. One still sees somewhat regular use, the so called Rod of Screams, a nightmarish weapon in the form of a slender crystalline tube adorned with butterfly and flower motiffs, used to execute the vilest of prisoners without ever touching their flesh.  It is remarkably attractive for the Danu, and most unusually no sign of magic may be found about it and... for those daring enough to brave its inimical presence there are no signs of crafting upon it... though the few experts in antique elvish works admit that such signs are often to subtle to note outside of the most rigorous study. Given that the Rod is 'weilded' by the very victims it claims it can be understood that few wish to undertake such a task.

More on the Danu Panoply:


As this is a matter that would be of most interest to people running around Haven (Player) and the Gods that try to keep them from messing everything up (GMs ), I feel I might as well discuss in more detail the nature of the Danu Panoply (not, it must be noted, the Tuathan Panoply specifically mentioned above).

As the premier warrior culture of the Mythic Age, the acknowledged masters of the arts of war in all their forms, and as one of the last surviving cultures, persisting all the way up to the Banality and with scattered survivors to this day... the weapons and Armors of the Danu would be among the premier choice for dangerous violent people long after they were gone, and of course the most easily researched as well. After all, one might still learn from an ancient Danu Warrior how best to employ a Mist Blade against a Construct of Irem.  Thus I part ways from my usual voice to give you... the details!

The Irem Collection, as referenced above, contains a mix of classic Danu artifacts, used throughout their existance (the cloaks), and items created and used expressely for the war agains Irem (the Mist Blades and the so called Rod of Screams), which remain useful but were certainly not 'classic Danu' in any sense.

In the earliest days that one might refer to the Danu as a seperate group they were, of course, the guardians of the Siti and the Hydenimoi forest. They first gained recognition as a group fighting to keep the Goblin hordes from over running the Hydenimoi and actually fought most often outside the forest itself, as the smaller more numerous goblins actually gained the advantages inside the trees themselves.  The necessity for the numerically inferior elves to engage massed hordes of goblins meant that they ended up honing their techniques first against large groups rather than attempting to perfect the art of war on a more intimate, skill based, body of technique; an unusual situation for Elves.

Ironically the Mist Blades of the late Mythic Age would have been perfect for this style of warfare.

At the time the Elves only protection were their cloaks, they lacked the ability to fashion true armors, and they were idea against the arrows and spears of the goblins, and in elvish fashion were refined along those lines.  To understand, however, one must realize that the Danu did not simply WEAR their cloaks but used them as a man might use a shield. A Danu warrior had to be able to keep the cloak between his body and the incoming waves of arrows as he danced across the battlefield sweeping his blades through dozens of goblins at a time.

As you might imagine the cloaks of the Danu are quite voluminous garments, with full shadowy hoods and extra folds and drapes that can be used to expand the garment as it is whirled about, filling it with air.   It would be tempting to say they were not truly enchanted garments, but as with all things in the Mythic Age, magic was not typically a learned thing but something that occurred naturally while doing other things, inherent and instinctive but for a few masters of the Art itself.

The elves of the Goblin Wars era had virtually no metal crafting, with the sole exception of Mithril, or 'Elvish Steel', whose use during that age was restricted almost entirely to the Danu for their weaponry.  Typical of Elves they preferred great sweeping curved blades that could be used gracefully to reap through enemy lines.  Some say that the techniques of the Danu may still be seen among the warriors of the Avante with their Falcata. (Pre-Edit: Not the right thing... damn it!)

Eventually the cloaks of the Danu would prove to be inadaquet protection and they would steal an idea from both the orcs and goblins, not that they would admit it. The original armor of the Danu was made of plates of polished horn, glimmering in the sun.

To be sure, the Danu were not the first elves to wear armor. The Tuathan Panoply proves that as surely as anything, but they were the first among the Siti to do so.  Ancient artifacts from that era may still be found among the Siti, those who fought alongside the Danu for a time but did not leave with them, or their children who were deemed to weak for exile who kept the older artifacts of the age.  Armors of horn, bone and wood all may be found, all ancient beyond measure and more resilient than they appear. Some may even be found among the few Elvish barrows in the Hydenimoi, still worn by the ancient remains of long forgotten heroes.

By the time of their self imposed exile, the Danu had developed a far more complex and sophisticated warrior culture, isolating them from their fellows before even the need for exile.  Only those who had a taste for war and the skill or luck to survive it remained among the Danu for long, and so even in peace members of the nascent tribe carried weapons and wore armor. Indeed, there are those among the Siti who still call themselves Danu, guardians of the Siti who have never left the forest in all the millenia since the Goblin Wars, held more by duty than pride or battle lust.

By the time of Exile the Danu had developed their own lores for weaving of cloaks, had codified techiques for battlefield use, regimented weapons and had an armoring technique unheard of.  Depictions of elves wrappen in plate armor made of leaves date to this time, though they are not entirely accurate. Certainly leaves were used to form the shape of the armor, than by means unknown to us the leaves were transmuted to Mithril, then lacquered and gilded to resemble the plants they once were, now harder than ordinary steel.

Once they had rebuilt the city of Tuatha they learned of more exotic techniques that had been lost by their forebears, though at this time they had little use for them.

However, against the Tabor, whose weapons and armor of Dragonbone were far superior to Mithril, and against the Daelyereath who knew the secrets of Mithril from ever more ancient times, it was found that the ponderous (in comparison) speed of a fully armored warrior was little use and the practice of making the mitril suits was abandoned and with rare exception the suits were mothballed, recycled or gifted away as tokens to distant allies.

Of course, against the Tabor and the Daelyreath, the Danu had an opponent whose like they had not yet fought, warriors of great skill but few in number who could not be mowed down by dazzling displays but must be engaged and fought as rivals and equals.

Tradition and pride demanded that the Danu did not entirely abandon their old ways, and they retained the use of long curved blades, and relying on their dedication and elvish lifespans, mastered an art of duelling with the unwieldy things, while retaining their older techniques as apprentice skills.

Needing something other than Mithril they turned to the unique arts they had inherited from the Tuathans of old, growing swords that were lighter, faster and stronger, and even a lighter, if less complete armor to survive the occasional strikes that passed their guard.  Of course, they also needed to develope better 'battle magics' to deal with the arts of their rivals and the dragonfires the Tabor could command.  

Danu artifacts of this age appear to be grown of some white, milky substance, though some have suggested the armor looks as if it could be coral, if coral could be smoothed and polished.  It lacks the vitality of the Tuathan artifacts, and indeed the adornments common to other elven cultures.   Many artifacts may not appear to be weapons, but often hold terrible offensive or pusiant defensive spells and may be worn or held easily in the off hand.  The Danu were found of rings and medallions for this sort of artifact.

The war against Irem saw further evolution of the Danu's crafts.  It was their first taste of true siege warfare, and thus the only true examples of Danu siegecrafts might be found in the wastes.

Importantly, the Danu eventually returned, at this point, to the full armor of earlier ages, working first in Mithril and the unknown materials of Tuatha, then later the so called 'dream stuff' that is the hallmark of late era Danu warcrafts.

It must be understood that the Savants of Irem did not personally take to the battlefields for much of the long war but instead sent their Servitors, beings conjured from the Amorphia itself and often capable of anything.  As the more 'mundane' (cough discreetly here...) substances often proved ineffectual against such terrible beings the Danu devised a 'stuff' that would match the Savants of Irem on every way.  If the legends of the Danu are true, that the greatest of them had been of the generation that survived the Titans, this might explain what they did.

The Danu called upon the substance of Nightmares. Unwilling, for reasons unexplored in legend, to temp the Amorphia themselves they tapped the wellspring of a nearly equally unpredictable mind, the dreaming souls of all living things.  Their artificers conjured up weapons and armors from dreams themselves and made them real... and in vast quantities required by armies.

The Mist Blades, mere handles of the more ordinary materials common to the Danu, but having great blades of living breath, nearly invisble to the naked eye, could cut through even the hardest armor without leaving a mark and could sweep over the battlefield clearing the sky of vast clouds of lesser Servitor beasts (swarms of insectiod creations that carried poisons, diseases and madness were frightfully common) in a single motion.

The Rod of Screams was used by the mightiest of the Danu, twisting the servitors as if they were still freshly conjured from the Amorphia itself, often turning them on their creators with a flick of the wrist, though not even the greatest of them could withstand its use long and it passed from hand to hand between battles.  In battles that could not be won the bearer of the rod could sacrifice his own life to unmake, a terrible power that was said to deny the user the succor of death.

Of course, the progress of Danu crafts ended early in the war, when the Gods began to appear on the battlefield personally. The Danu became mere footsoldiers for the Gods in many cases and their personal abilities mattered less than their worshipful support of the Gods.

On the Panoply of the Tibor:

The First Men had their empire end some millenia or more before the fall of the Danu and Irem, making their artifacts significantly older.  That said, their works were often much simpler and more durable and thus weather the passage of ages and the vagrities of fate much easier.

The Tibor, of course, favored heavy armor and large direct weapons as their primary kit.  Their metal skins were said to be impervious to even the teeth and claws of the dragons they first hunted, then tamed.  Over the ages many suits have been scattered, divided into peices, though certainly each piece may hold its own enchantments, many added long after the fall of Tibor.

Of course, the first men ranged from seven to eight feet in height, meaning that few alive can comfortably wear or wield their arms.  

The First Men were said by some to be power incarnate, much as the dragons they rode and did not favor enchantments or other tricks, preferring to trust in the quality of their works and their own personal power.  Given that they are the first recorded masters of Elder Sorcery and, quite possibly superior to their successors from Irem they may have had little need for such trivial, delicate magics.  Still, many artifacts that are believed to have lain undisturbed since the fall of Tibor have definite enchantments, possibly absorbed from their owners rather than deliberately created.

Aside from that strange arrogance, the Tibor did practice the arts of enchantment, though it seemed more as an amusement than as one of their war arts.

Still, Elder Sorcery is not without its weakness in battle, the complex patterns could require hours to lay properly, and so they, unlike the Iremi after them found ways to shortcut their sorceries... beyond the obvious method of carrying an incomplete pattern requiring but a single stone. Many of the more obscure Tibor artifacts are essentially extremely advanced, single spell engines that power the unholy might of Elder Sorcery.  Such was their wisdom than they could harness such energies to incredibly intricate and subtle ends.

As the Tibor preferred to keep their hands free for combat, riding or deliberate sorcery, many of their artifacts were either worn, mounted to their armor or, most startlingly, self motivated.  A Dragonlord in full panoply would stride forth with his impervious skin, massive sword and occasionally a shield while a dozen or more 'things' floated about him maintaining defensive and offensive magics of terrible power... and presumptively glowing with the barely constrained horror of Chaos contained  within his armor... and most terrifyingly an enraged dragon at his side.

Of course, we must then mention the oldest known Tibori artifacts: Dragonreins.  According to their own tales, those that survive, the Tibor began by hunting the fearsome beasts, waging a genocidal war against them. This, long before they formed an Empire that spanned the world and counted all major kingdoms as tributaries.

The Dragons were said to have learned a great fear of the First Men such as they have never felt, the fear of a prey animal being brought to ground, and swore a mighty oath to the First Men, an Oath to serve them and their decendants for all time.  To seal the pact, which had been their goal all along, the Tibori forced each Dragon to bind a piece of it's soul, its will, into a simple harness made from their own hide.  It is said that these 'reins' or 'harnesses' are far too small to actually place over a dragon's head, and are fashioned much as a falcon's traces might be. Simple possession of the Harness, in the presence of the appropriate Dragon, is enough to command its absolute loyalty... provided one has Human blood.  The most famous example of such is also the only known surviving set known as 'GoreSkin's Bond', which is held in the city of Spada, though some say Goreskin, said to be the oldest and cruellest of the beasts, will not obey... it is a moot question, as Spada and Goreskin's lair are on opposite corners of the world.  There are some who say the Spada are not men at all and could not use the bond.  

More, the Spada are a proud enough people that they refuse to send their warriors south with the Bond. It is their stated intent that a Spada warrior must prove superior to the First Men and force Goreskin to submit by force of arms alone.