Race Position (Communities): Clan-based, fortified settlements.

Race Position (Segregation): (No data)

Race Position (Rights): (No data)

Race(s) (Primary): Dragonborn

Race(s) (Secondary): (None)

Languages: Draconic (Native), Anishinabe (Trade)

Literacy: Low

Technology Level: Stone Age (pre-liberation); now "Dark Ages" (post-trade)

Industries \ Trades: Mining (gems, gold), smithing, stone-carving, hunting.

Arms \ Equipment: Formerly stone/obsidian; now importing steel.

Government System: Council of Clans

Ruler(s): A council of Clan-Chiefs

Came to power by: Divine "Seeding" (Y0)

Social Alignment: Lawful Neutral (implied)

Civilization Archetype: Resilient Tributaries

Settlement Type(s): Fortified stone villages

Settlement Population: (No data)

Cultural Archetype: (No data)

Rebelliousness: High (Historically, against the Dragon)

Brigandage: Low (internally unified)

The Founding of the Kakarau

Part I: The Dragon's Land (Year 0)

When the Fifth World was born, the Dragonborn were seeded onto the Kakarau Islands, a chain of arid, rocky islands in the far north of the Equatorial cluster. These islands lay just off the southeastern coast of the main continent, Tayon.

The islands were harsh, with little vegetation. For any other race, it would have been an exile. For the Dragonborn, it was a test of strength. They formed their first clans, built their first crude, stone shelters, and began to master their rugged, primal land. They believed this land was their own, a gift from the gods to forge their new civilization.

They were wrong. The islands were not a gift; they were a territory. And they were within the hunting grounds of a being from a previous age.

Part II: The Shadow from Tayon (Y0 - Y30)

Within the first few years, a shadow fell across their largest island. It came from the mountains of Tayon: an Ancient Brown Dragon, a being so old he had forgotten his own name, as there was no one left alive who could tell it to him.

This was not a creature of the new world. This was a "survivor" of a previous creation, a being "nearly insane with grief." In his city-sized lair on Tayon, his madness had a specific focus: he was obsessed with siring a new Brown Dragon. He kept a Red and a Gold dragon captive, forcing them to lay eggs, but his attempts always failed. When the wyrmlings hatched and were not brown, he would consume them in a fit of rage.

The Dragonborn of Kakarau knew nothing of this. They only knew the monster.

He was faster than any dragon they had ever seen, and his breath was not a normal fire, but a unique, searing flame "hotter than any flame either [of his] dragon females could create."

He did not come to conquer; he came to collect. His one remaining instinct, in his failure to create, was to horde. His vast treasure—the very hoard that would one day be used to found Arwonia and Solaris—was his only comfort, a desperate attempt to remind himself of who he had been.

He descended on the Dragonborn, his power absolute. He roared his demand: they would pay him tribute.

The Dragonborn clans, with their spears and stone axes, were powerless. They were not subjugated as slaves, but forced into a far more humiliating role: they were tributaries. For the first decades of their existence, their entire society was reorganized. They became master miners and smiths, their lives dedicated to digging gems and gold from their islands, not for their own glory, but to pay the "tax" to the insane, grieving dragon on the continent, hoping to sate his unpredictable rage for another season.

Part III: The Great Deception (Y30-Y82)

The Dragonborn of Kakarau endured their subjugation for decades, but they did not endure it passively. They were a proud and organized people. The clan-chiefs secretly formed a pact, agreeing to dedicate their strongest and cleverest scouts to a single, vital mission: to spy on the dragon.

These scouts, known as the "Wind-Stalkers," followed the Ancient Brown Dragon across the sea to the continent of Tayon. They tracked him deep into the mountains, where they discovered his city-sized, geothermal lair.

From a hidden watch-camp on the cliffs, they observed his madness. They saw the two female dragons, the Red and the Gold, held captive. They witnessed the dragon's horrific ritual: his forced mating, the hatching of the "wrong" colored wyrmlings, and his grief-fueled rage as he consumed his own offspring.

This intelligence, brought back to the Kakarau islands, changed everything. Their oppressor was not just a tyrant; he was a failure.

A wise, old Dragonborn artisan, a master smith who had been carving tribute-gems, proposed a desperate, cunning gamble. "He does not want our gold," the smith hissed. "He wants an heir. His grief has made him blind. We will give him what he wants."

The Dragonborn clans set to work. Their miners found the largest, most perfectly egg-shaped boulders on their islands. Their artisans and smiths spent months carving, polishing, and buffing these massive stones until they looked like colossal, petrified dragon eggs.

The next time the Ancient Brown Dragon descended, his roar shaking their cliffs, the clan-chiefs met him not with wagons of gold, but with a procession.

"Great One!" the chief called out. "We have no gold for you this season! But we have found a greater treasure!"

They presented the massive, polished stones. The dragon, his eyes wide with a new, dangerous light, approached them. He sniffed the "eggs," his fire-breath hissing.

"They are cold," he growled, suspicion in his voice.

"They are ancient, Great One!" the chief replied, his voice a perfect blend of reverence and guile. "We found them deep in the earth. They are eggs from a previous age. They will take an age to hatch, but they are strong!"

The Ancient Brown Dragon, poised to incinerate the entire village, paused. His own attempts had failed. His own eggs were weak. But these... these were strong. His grief-fueled madness and his desperate, all-consuming obsession overrode his ancient intellect. He wanted to believe.

He gently, almost tenderly, gathered the great stone eggs. "You have done well," he rumbled, his voice softer than they had ever heard. "Your tribute is... accepted."

He flew back to his lair, not with gold, but with a new, false hope. He placed the "eggs" in his hoard to "incubate." This "Great Deception" did not end the threat, but it changed it. The dragon's raids became less frequent, his attention now focused on his new clutch of stone eggs. He still demanded tribute, but the "Great Deception" had bought the Kakarau Dragonborn the one thing they needed more than gold: time.

They used this time to build a true civilization. They forged real steel, built stone fortresses, and honed their skills, waiting for the day their "trick" was discovered, or for a miracle.

That miracle, decades later (around Y82), would arrive in the form of a party of legendary, dragon-hoard-seeking adventurers (Arwon, Eran, Taliaan, etc.), who would finally put the grieving, insane dragon to rest and unwittingly liberate the Kakarau people forever.