The Lizards of Tilas
The Island of Tilas, sitting between the emerald coast of the Elven Realm and the sapphire waves of the Cataegic sea, is home to a once proud race of Dragonborn. Unlike their cousins on the Isle of Torpes, this reptilian civilisation strove to better themselves and welcomed diverse ranges of thought and culture, encouraging settlers from distant lands to come and share in their ideological crucible. However, it was this openness that was to be their downfall.
When the war machine of the hitherto peaceful elven nation struck, it took everyone by surprise. Agents already put in place by the High Chamberlain, spymaster of the Realm, swiftly disabled the defences of the hapless citizens of all of the port cities on the island. Battalions in glistening silver armour marched down streets once filled with children and market vendors. Huge siege engines rumbled down hurriedly built roads towards the inland capital of Dalash. Within a matter of days the island had been conquered.
His victory won, the Grand Councillor seemed to lose interest in the isle as quickly as he had gained it. After a brief tour of the palaces and cathedrals the island had to offer, his eminence was taken to the great archives, buried beneath the city of Dalash. There he remained for a few days, before he and his entourage boarded his ship and sailed back to the Golden Isle. It was then that the raids began.
Families were taken en masse. Orderly and without undue force, Squads of elven soldiers rounded up scores of Dragonborn and escorted them to Temples and town halls that had been seized by the invaders. Here, they were lobotomised.
Now differentiated from the rest of their kin by two small white scars on their forehead, these creatures now hove no will of their own. With no spirit to resist they are at the whim of their elven masters. Used for menial tasks in stately homes, on farms and as part of large mechanisms, they now provide the Realm with the engine it needs to power its infernal purposes.
Scorned by the elves who enslaved them, shunned by their disgusted relatives and pitied by all other races, the once mighty and intellectual dragonborn are reduced to mewling animals and dribbling quiescence. Now called Lizards by cruel masters they have become a mere commodity.
Culture
Major language groups and dialects
Common, draconic
Culture and cultural heritage
None remaining
Shared customary codes and values
None
Common Etiquette rules
None
Common Customs, traditions and rituals
None
Birth & Baptismal Rites
None
Coming of Age Rites
Should any offspring be borne from a Lizard, it is also lobotomised after it's first year, and becomes the property of it's parents master.
Funerary and Memorial customs
None
Ideals
Beauty Ideals
None
Gender Ideals
None
Courtship Ideals
None
Relationship Ideals
None
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