The existence of dragons has never been questioned upon Mideon. Their devastating power continues to shape the world they inhabit. Yet among these legendary beasts, there appears to exist only one Dragonkin: a solitary creature bearing their likeness.
He speaks to no one.
Whether he cannot, or merely chooses not to, none can say. His actions have become his language.
Witnesses tell of a towering figure gliding above enemy ranks, exhaling sheets of dragonbreath that render armour as meaningless as parchment before a furnace. Raxos descends like a falling comet, his ancient scales deflecting steel and all but unraveling hostile magic, making every charge as unstoppable as it is devastating.
Legends whisper that his spear bears the horn of Pyroxia, the red dragon whose reign of fire scarred Mideon for centuries. Whatever its origin, the weapon burns with a fury that refuses to die, leaving wounds that smoulder long after the strike has landed.
If his prey survives the charge, they face another horror. Raxos' jaws are built to rend armour and tear through flesh.
Yet his greatest weapon may be neither claw nor flame.
As his power grows, the air itself seems to change. Heroes lose their resolve. An instinct older than reason awakens in those who face him. The terror he radiates strips courage from even the strongest minds.
Since the dark descent into the Necropolis, the Dragonkin's spear has been raised in many battles. Yet only before Ista does his purpose seem complete. The effigies of rival gods are reduced to ruin, while hers stand inviolate. As her Avatar, Raxos inspires impossible courage in her faithful and awakens primal terror in all who oppose them.