When a dragon rules over an area, it is called a desolation (similar to how merfolk rule over mazes). It's meant to imply a barren, inhospitable land, but these places are usually fertile and support large, tasty animals.
The Desolation of Cataphractus. The Desolation of Beyhoc. The Desolation of Lagazizi. The Desolation of Tar Lath Lien. The Desolation of Torakta. These are names on a map. Cartographers use the same font for the names of human kingdoms.
Dragons domesticate humans. They'll grab a few children, drop them in their nest, and feed them a steady diet of cow blood and dragon propaganda. Sometimes they refine their stock by interbreeding their humans with a prince or princess. Hell, if one of their pet humans is especially effective, they may be able to get stud fees from other dragons.
These domesticated humans are members of a dragon cult. (Except in the case of Tar Lath Lien, where it is better described as a wizard college-cult. And sure, he has his huntresses, but that's a whole different thing.)
Dragon cult barbarians tend to be big. At least a foot taller than the soft people down in the lowlands. They've been bred for size. (And dragons live long enough to benefit from these breeding programs.)
Over time, a dragon builds up a tribe of people. They usually don't live in the cavern with the dragon. That's too bold. Would you share a bedroom with your god? Instead they usually live in primitive dwellings on the mountainside just outside the dragon's den.
They never build cities or roofs. In fact, a desolation is often studded with abandoned cities, where a dragon's barbarians are forbidden to go.
A dragon likes having you where it can see you. It doesn't want it's pets to build stone walls, where its fire can't reach. There have been insurrections, you know, where a tribe killed their god.
Dragons keep these tribes of ignorant, dragon-worshipping barbarians on hand to deal with all the things that they can't. Domesticated humans can carry their hoard, hunt down thieving goblins in their tiny holes, and serve as a buffer between the dragon and all those annoying people who want to pay tribute or pick a fight.
And because they serve dragons, they sometimes get the good stuff. Picture a 15- year-old kid with the physique of Conan, wearing the golden armor of ancient kings and armed with magic spears. The kid is also illiterate, covered in fleas, and thinks that humans were created by dragons.
And because they serve dragons, they sometimes get the good stuff. Picture a 15- year-old kid with the physique of Conan, wearing the golden armor of ancient kings and armed with magic spears. The kid is also illiterate, covered in fleas, and thinks that humans were created by dragons.
And its not hard fascism either. Their barbarian tribes don't chafe at the collar. They've believe in their dragon. And when you stand in front of a dragon, you can see why.
They laugh at your gods, because your gods are invisible, puny things like wind or light. Their god is muscle and fire and furious roars. When you die, you rot in the earth while your soul is trapped in your body. When they die, they will be eaten by their god and reborn into dragon eggs.
