I have been told that when I was born my grandfather ordered me to be killed. Ignoring the cries of my distraught mother, I was cast to the waves and all believed me to be drowned. However, the woman druid called Birog, cast a spell, that spell brought me from the sea into the arms of my father.

I was fostered by Taillte daughter of the King of the great plain, and of Echaid the Rough. I was taught all the arts and my skill grew so great with a sword and my reach so long and accurate that I acquired the name, Lugh of the Long Arm.

One day when I had grown; I arrived at the door of the King’s fort. I asked the doorkeeper to tell the King that I wanted to join his household. The Doorkeeper told me that no one could join the King’s household without a special skill. “I am a builder”. “We already have a builder” said the Doorkeeper. “I am a smith, a champion, a harper, a warrior, a poet, a magician, a physician, a cup-bearer and a brazier” said I” “But we already have someone who possesses each of the skills you mention” said the Doorkeeper. “Then do you have someone who is skilled in all these things together”? And indeed there was no one so I was admitted to the King’s household.

As with all things, the Tuatha Dé were eventually defeated in battle and consigned to mythology. Surface dweller legends record that we were allowed to stay in Ireland, but only underground. Thus we became the bearers of the fairies of Ireland, consigned to the underworld where we became known as 'Aes sidhe' (the people of the mound - fairy mounds)

Update:

At the end of world war III in 2054, when the blue Earth had been turned into a barren wasteland, nothing had escaped the devastation unleashed by nuclear winter not even, the Aes sidhe. Although my people's origins are from the before time of humans, and with a lifespan of several millennia,  many of them have not survived the multiple cave-ins, radiation sickness and ensuing starvation from spoilt food supplies.

I have decided it is now time to take our chances elsewhere, I have instructed my people to leave their subterranean homes and prepare to relocate, hopefully temporarily to a small earth like world near the centre of this universe using, our trans-matter transporter, which had been reactivated now the world above has been decimated and our enemies technology inhibitors have been destroyed on the surface of this planet. Although not ideal and a poor substitute for the blue Earth this station will keep my people alive, at least temporarily until I can find the fabled Rexxla portal and take my people to our ancestral home.

I will take my progenitor's sky maps and explore that which is above to find Rexxla. The maps are still in perfect condition but written in a strange pictorial language, unknown to me or any of my people, from a long past time but reputed to hold the key of where we originated and hopefully, how to get back there.  So begins my journey...