House of
the Dagda
Before the Milesians, before the Christians, before Ireland had a name — the supernatural race that taught the arts. They are mostly buried now, called the Aes Sídhe, the people of the mounds.
The Dagda fathered the line. His children scattered into seasons, crafts, kingships, and graves.
Each sigil here is composed algorithmically from the figure's own iconography — not an illustration, a glyph. The shape is the myth made geometry.
Brought from the four cities of the north — Falias, Gorias, Findias, Murias.
The objects of office. None of the Tuatha Dé Danann are kings without one.
Named blades, spears, slings, harps — every object given a name in the sources.
The Tuatha Dé Danann do not carry generic swords. Every weapon has a name and a will.
Sacred beasts, totem forms, the creatures who carry them.
Horses that gallop the sea. Ravens of battle. The bull at the heart of the Cattle Raid. The shapeshift forms the gods become when one form is not enough.
Wives. Lovers. Foster-children. The ones who stand at the shoulder.
No king stands alone. No goddess is unattended. The lineage is also a circle of who-loved-whom, who-fostered-whom, who-stood-and-fought-beside-whom.
Every enemy slain, named for the wound, by the hand that struck.
The Tuatha Dé Danann fought four wars to hold Ireland — against the Fir Bolg, twice against the Fomorians, and finally against the Milesians who unmade them. These are the rivals who fell, with the weapon and the killer named.
When the Milesians took the surface, Manannán took them underground.
Each Tuath Dé was assigned a hollow hill — a sídh — to live beneath. The mounds are real, still standing in the Irish countryside. Each is older than the pyramids. Click a marker or a card to anchor the connection.
Standing stones that roar, that mark the center, that hold the dying.
Older than the Tuatha Dé. Some they brought with them. Some were already here when they arrived. All of them are still standing.
Five guardian trees, one for each province. Planted by Fintan from a single branch.
A giant came to an assembly at Tara carrying a branch bearing nuts, apples, and acorns all at once. He fed the people on the smell of the fruit and gave the seeds to Fintan. The five trees sprang from those seeds.
Lawgivers, prophets, healers, casters of storms. Their word stood above the king's.
Forty-two entries, five of them collective. The named druids of every cycle: from Cesarn who came with Cesair before the Flood, through the brother-druids of Partholon, the four wizard-bards of the cities who taught the Tuatha Dé, the bandruí who raised mist and mountain at Mag Tuired, the chief druids of the Ulster and Connacht courts, the dark druids of the Fenian woods, the storm-druidess who killed a High King, the two who lifted into the air against Patrick, and the two who fostered the daughters of Laegaire and chose to lay down the staff. Every name the texts preserve.