Weredragons, men call them. Monsters. Cursed ones. People who can turn into beastly reptiles.
In an ancient world just rising from darkness, they are everywhere. Some wander the plains with clans of mammoth hunters. Others are born in riverside huts. Some live across the ocean where seafaring tribes are discovering the secrets of bronze and writing in clay. Everywhere their curse is the same–people who can grow wings, breathe fire, and take flight as dragons.
And everywhere, they are hunted. They hide in forests and caves, dispersed. Many are alone, unaware that others exist. They are shunned, afraid, dying . . . until a group of these lost souls binds together and stands tall.
A blacksmith in a world of stone tools. A mammoth hunter exiled from her tribe. A traveling juggler and a wandering warrior. An elderly druid and an outcast prince. They are weredragons. They are cursed and hunted. Together they will forge a new tribe, a home for their kind. A dawn of dragon rises. The nation of Requiem is born.