There are many types of magic on Morus. There is the so-called High Magic, arcane artistry refined to an exact science - by which complex sigils and words may be woven together into a lattice to trap energy, and to release it with explosive effect. There is Ritual Magic, more meandering and slow; based upon pacts and incantations, slowly kneading of magical energy over hours, days, even years to great and far-ranging effect. There is even Sorcery, or Wild Magic - a reckless tapping directly into the magical talent, releasing energy with little ability to shape or direct it.
Yet all of these forms of magic are artificial. Even Wild Magic, which appears to be primal and unrefined, is not natural in its execution. To delve deeper into the eddies of the Astral than mortals were meant to, to release the raw magic of the multiverse into the world - only the artifice of a mortal mind could make this happen. There is, however, another type of magic - rightly called Old Magic. This is magic whose laws were not created by any man, or elf, or any other mortal being. It is magic in its natural, truest, most essential form. When a dragon breathes fire, it calls upon the old magic. When a halfling vanishes from sight, they are using the old magic.
Old magic is a subtle art - in fact, it would be more accurate to say that old magic is not itself an art at all. Instead, all other crafts, when suitably elevated, become old magic. Anyone can hide, but when an elf steps sideways between the trees and cannot be seen, this is the old magic. There is a continuum between the lowly craftsman who spins threads of hemp together into a meek rope - and the subtle master who weaves the very concepts of binding and holding into a slender skein that could transfix the gods themselves, if they were foolish enough to become ensnared.
This is the old magic; and while it can be found anywhere, and amongst anyone, the elves have always understood it the best. Their very nature is subtlety, and to create wondrous things for no other purpose than to delight in them comes naturally to them. The old magic in humans comes from their ambition, which can drive them to deeds and aspirations that would not occur even to the heroes of the elves. Dwarven magic comes from their power in the earth, their ability to twist and meld and shape and hammer the products of the ground into beautiful and impossible crafts.
Mithril, famously rare and difficult to work with, and avaricious doom of elves and dwarves alike. When mithril steel is properly worked, it is as light as silk but strong enough to withstand dragonfire. It never dulls or tarnishes, and shines with a soft radiance in the moonlight. Armor made from it makes almost no noise, and magic can easily be cast in it. Yet these wondrous properties alone are not why mithril is so highly valued. Mithril is one of the most magical materials that appear in nature, and items made of it take on a personality of their own.
Simple smiths can work in simple metals, in iron and steel. But for the finest blades, you must have the finest metal, and there is none finer than mithril steel. By the same craft that another smith may use to make a simple tool of cutting, an elven smith of the centuries could forge a fell blade. Items crafted in this way need no wizard chanting spells to take on enchantment; the very magic of the metal and the skill of the crafter is enough. Sometimes these blades take on their power at the moment of forging, but more commonly they gain their personality with time. A blade borne against orcs may grow to hate them, and hum its displeasure or glow with a warning light at their presence. A stave carried between the planes may grow used to guiding its wielder from one world to the next. The amulet of a shipwright who loves the sea may carry its wearer back to it, unerringly.
Besides the mithril that gives them their reputation, elves create all manner of wondrous things solely for their own enjoyment. The manner and splendour of their crafts is diminished from the early days of elvenkind, and the people of Lurkmoor have less of this art than the people of Murthrid, but nonetheless the old magic is strong in the elven people. The many strange things created by elves are too numerous to name here, for all are unique; each elf may be struck by a different fancy and produce a different kind of ware. Even so, there are certain goods which are widely produced in elven societies, and which are sometime sold, trade or given as gifts to non-elves.
The elves are known for taking great pride in their bowyery - even their worst works would be considered to be of high quality by humans (see the rules for masterwork weapons). However, their bows have another advantage; unlike most human bowyers, elves are skilled enough at shaping and even singing wood into elaborate and graceful forms. Elven bows are beautifully shaped and highly polished, and incorpate metal inlays on the front side that enable them to be used as parrying weapons. This means that you count as armed when carrying one and makes them unlikely to break when struck.
Elven bows are worth about 150 gold pieces.
These masterworks are highly prized in the musical communities of any culture. The elven harp produces a clear, dulcet tone, unheard of in any non-elven crafted instrument. Not only does it produce a sound rivaled only by the gods of music, the elven harp is a beauty to behold as well. Intricately carved, with attention paid to the smallest detail, the elven harp is almost as beautiful to look at as it is to hear it. There are several different sizes of elven harp. Some can be carried by adventuring elves, while others are clearly intended only for stationary use. Whatever the size, they are well worth their cost.
These harps can sell for anywhere between 500 and 2,500 gold pieces, depending on the size.
This is a fermented mixture of crushed flowers, honey, and an ingredient that some claim is distilled moonbeams. It is available only through elves, and most elves will not allow members of other races to drink it. The sole exception to this rule is the race of halflings, who appreciate all good things in life. Humans become far too stuporous, and dwarves do not appreciate the subtleties inherent in the taste, preferring instead to swill it. It simply does not affect them. Gnomes have their own variant, which they prefer, and they rarely ask for feywine.
Although feywine lasts only two days when bottled away from fresh air, some elves carry it with them for such a period to use as a secret weapon against unsuspecting foes. While their enemies are sleeping off the effects, the elves can make good their escape. Otherwise, elves drink it only when they are celebrating some victory or festival.
Honey leather is really a light canvas woven from many fine threads of plant fiber. It is used for protection against rain and dampness. Elves use it for tents and to protect camping gear. Unfortunately, it doesn't offer much protection against snags, and it tears easily, making it unsuitable for clothing, armor, covering siege weapons, or any similar application. However, as long as it is used only in camp, it is a fairly durable canvas. It is also completely waterproof and adheres to itself until pulled apart, and it is highly valued because of that.
Honey leather is usually sold near elven forests for 50 gp per square yard.
This is the grayish material from which cloaks of elvenkind are made. It is a light, downy material that does not snag on branches. Since it is a fine quality material, it can easily be enchanted with the spells that enable the elves to produce their woodswear. Cloaks of elvenkind and similar materials require a particular level of craftsmanship, but making the material is something that can be done even by relatively unskilled elves, so thistledown is often sold outside of elvish settlements.
Despite being a soft material, it resists tearing and snagging of all kinds. In fact, while it feels soft upon touch, it is strangely slippery and hard to grab hold of when grabbing it violently. Cloaks or clothing made of thistledown are expensive (100 gp per square yard), but allow one to move through dense woodland without being slowed much by the underbrush. While it's usually much cheaper to just wear a cloak of the stuff, a full set of thistledown clothing causes any grappling attacks against you to be made at a -2 penalty (this is obviously negated if armour is worn over it).