Elf Myths

The Dragon Knights

During the Elf War one of the most legendary groups of warriors were known as the Dragon Knights, so named for one of their first great victories, defeat of a black dragon that was working with the drow. The Dragon Knights were led by an Elvish nobleman, Athaurus, though not all the Dragon Knights were elves. At least two were human. The Dragon Knights fought in the climactic Battle of the Gray Mountain, forming the spearhead that slew the drow summoner Savarin and the magi with him. Once the drow lost their magical protections, the Elvish army was victorious. Athaurus was killed in the battle, but the remaining Dragon Knights followed his sister to the great city of the elves and began the rebuilding. Though the Dragon Knights are no more, they are still the standard of courage young Elvish would-be warriors are held to.

The Great Betrayer

The Elf known as the Great Betrayer was a drow woman by the name of Nesamorn. Her bargaining with a fiend and poisoning of the High King Menthalus is what began the Elf War. She had been taken in as foster daughter by the High King in an effort to maintain the fraying relations between the surface elves and their subterranean cousins. She was to wed Prince Talunthar, the High King’s eldest son, and thus become Queen of Apiratenr. She was not content to merely be queen, she wanted to truly rule, and rule alone. Thus she bargained with the fiend Duarth. Prince Talunthar believed her to be an innocent pawn of the fiend, and tried to rescue her, for he truly loved her. She had him sacrificed in a ritual to Duarth, which gained her terrible and unnatural powers. She then rallied the Drow to her and the Elf War began.

The Noble Steed

Hippogriffs have long been the steeds of Elvish nobility. Legend holds that one of the early Elvish kings found a hippogriff hatchling that had been orphaned. He nurtured and raised the creature, treating the wild beast with firmness, compassion, and kindness. And so the wild beast was tamed, and much loved his Elvish master.


The elves speak of the great city of Nathshelamar, the first of the great Elvish cities and ancestral home of the now rare winged elves. Legend holds that one day, long before the Elf War, the city of Nathshelamar simply vanished, leaving behind only a shallow lake. To date, no sage or diviner has been able to learn the truth of the city’s fate, though most bards have a theory or four.

Halimath’s Folly

Halimath was a master smith, of skill unsurpassed. Near the end of his life, he sought to create a truly magnificent relic, to be called the Sword of Justice. His fellows bade him not to make another weapon of power, for they had seen the wreckage such weapons had left upon the world. But Halimath would listen not, for to him, breaking the laws of the land was a small price to pay for the glory he would craft. The ritual he used were dark and arcane, but he believed that the creation of the sword would atone for any evils committed during its creation. Word spread to his fellows, and the wisest of them confronted him. Enraged that he should be thus questioned, Halimath struck down the wise one, and fled, taking with him the sword. When his fellows surrounded him, he was unrepentant, claiming that the sword was a force to be used by good. He raised the sword in defiance against those that confronted him, and he and the sword crumpled to dust, undone by the very magics he had wrought.


There were many heroes and villains named in the Elf War but none so tragic or great as that of two friends. Rathllia'th and Lieander were friends, no, brothers. Rathllia’th a son of a proud elven family and Lieander a son of an even prouder drow family, they were friends since childhood. They shared everything and sacrificed anything for each other. There was nothing that could tear them apart, when their families drifted away from each other the friends chose to distance themselves from their families rather than each other. Each was an expert in a martial skill, Rathllia’th trained in the great sword and focused on strength while Lieander trained in the twin blades and focused on speed and precision. It was never known if they could ever beat each other but as a team they were undefeated using Lieander’s speed to make openings and Rathllia’th’s strength to break the opponent. They were equal in all things, even their love for one woman. She was Lyllthynia, a beauty beyond compare and with a voice that even angels envied, there was no being that the friends loved more. She in turn loved both friends equally but this only caused a division between the two friends and no clear outcome could be discerned. Both friends wanted her, neither wanted to give up on her, and she favored neither more than the other. The friends’ friction soon escalated and swords crossed more than once but there was never a victor nor did there seem there would ever be one.

The war became a good excuse to get away from one another and to test each other. They swore to meet on the battlefield and settle their dispute once and for all, that only one would come back as victor. Each friend was recruited into their respective people’s side of the conflict but they could care less for the politics were an after thought. The only thing that ran through their minds was to see one another again and settle who could finally claim Lyllthynia’s hand. Lyllthynia grieved for the two but knew no way to quell their quarrel and only hoped that they would see reason before it was too late and that nothing would be regretted would happen. She set the two friends down the path of destruction by being the river that created the valley but would also make the two mourn and grieve. The two friends received word that Lyllthynia was among the accounted of dead after the siege of their hometown, neither were their to see her, neither knew that their home had been razed, neither knew that their families had been killed. When the two received word of Lyllthynia’s death both shed tears of rage, their love beyond mortal reach, and blamed the other. They set upon a path of death and destruction, using their skills they cut swathes through the battlefields and into history as both monsters and heroes. One thing propelled them forward and that was to finally meet the other on the field of battle and exact their rage.

The faithful day finally arrived, mist hung thick and bodies were already piled deep. In the midst of the battle, both side clashed fiercely with no clear outcome foreseen. Both sides charging one another, the two friends met each other finally, Rathllia’th’s great sword held high and Lieander’s twin blades flashing. The two charged each other, the battlefield stood still to watch the two warriors clash. They crossed swords, for what seemed an eternity they stared at each other, they noticed that they both had tears running freely while they stared at each other. These tears were of rage, sadness, and relief. They both had lost everything; their home, their families, and even the one they loved most, but before them stood a friend. In a swiftness unheard of, they turned and back to back took up arms against anyone who would dare come near. They died that day fighting both armies together, not as enemies but as friends, no, as brothers once more.

The desertion and revolt of the brothers caused such losses on both sides before they were finally put down that the two armies were forced to retreat and leave the area unclaimed. To this day, the local populace remembers and honors the two brothers. There was a statue erected to honor the brothers and to remember what they represent. They represent a bond that, in the end, no war or army could break and that strength gives hope to those who look upon the statue of the two brothers back to back with blades in hand ready to fight the world.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License