Chronicles of Bronze
The Chronicles of Bronze detail the events concerning the large island of Kradashire, since its first inhabitant’s colonization of the area, all the way through history till well after they had moved on.
The first inhabitants of what is now called Kradashire was a small pride of Bronze Dragons that had brought themselves across the seas for reasons now unknown. An old legend tells that the pride didn’t originally intend to settle on the island, but had intended to continue on across the sea. However, when the Matriarch of the Pride discovered that the island was free of bipedal annoyances, she decided the island would serve as an excellent nest for nurturing and expanding her brood.
Making their homes along the crags along the coast and the two main rivers that split the island, the bronze dragons thrived, and with them, so did the island. The flora and fauna of the island flourished with the dragons bringing their catches from the rivers and oceans onto land, fertilizing the soil and increasing the beauty of the island, and after a few millennia, the dragon’s nests came to shine with the mineral the dragons were colored after.
Several draconic generations passed without incident as the dragons kept to themselves, but, as with all other good things, the time came for it to pass. The Chronicles of Bronze do not detail exactly when, or what specifically happened, but the bones seem to tell it all. Legend says that the Human’s Great War had spilled over and across the seas, each side trying to secure more lands for resources and bases and that they had arrived on this once peaceful paradise, bringing the war with them. The dragon’s matriarch tried to magically repulse the invader’s by altering their thoughts, tried to reason with them to get them to leave, tried to bribe them, and even tried to intimidate them. The bipeds ignored all the matriarch’s requests and offers , focusing instead on killing the other bipeds. The bronze dragons ignored the battles on their doorstep as long as they could, but, again according to legend, a skirmish made its way down into a nest and wyrmlings and eggs became counted among the casualties of the war. It is said, that attacking a bronze dragon’s young is the only way to make them act against their kind nature, and that is what the bones say. The dragons attacked both bipedal forces mercilessly with indifference. The only bipeds on the island were warriors there to fight and kill the other, so the dragons possibly reasoned out that since they would not be killing innocents, they could drive the war away from their new home. None of the bipeds were spared. A handful of dragons fell in the fight, and the bones say that the matriarch had sustained critical injuries that limited her abilities to swim and fly.
Perhaps it is because she selected a successor and sent the pride on to find another land, that there are only a handful of dragon skeletons, hers included, left on the island. We know that she did not continue on because the great wyrm’s bones are the centerpiece at the Mouth of the River Krad.
Since the island’s abandonment by the pride, another hundred generations have passed, the Human’s Great War has long since ended, and though Kradashire has become a way-point for seafaring adventurers and explorers heading further into the seas for their treasure or death, it is still too far to be under the watchful eye of the large nations. The island now has a “thriving” economy based on mining stints to unearth Draconic Bronze, Bronze Crystals, and Bonestone, as well as fishing, hunting, and tourism; so to speak. The capital of Kradashire is Malteton, and there are 3 other major cities, and no fewer than 25 villages, mostly of the fishing variety populated by hard working, cynical folk, which is what it takes to live on the island for longer than a month.
All the races are seen passing through, but some choose to stay for its outward beauty and tantalizing market ventures. Very few individuals that survive stay for terribly long, and those that do almost never leave sight of the ocean, as the locals say the forests, crags, and waterways of the inner island are all walked by creatures unlike any seen elsewhere in the world, haunted by the spirits of the eradicated bipeds, and home to phantoms of dragons past. Furthermore, every dusk, as the sun sets on the Crystalcoat Peak, from which springs both rivers, the hellish roar of an angry dragon rolls across the island.