In the scorched realm of Dracotia — land of terrible lizards and broken empires — rose Draconius, a giant among men and Dragon Lord of Strength, whose childhood was forged in fire and loss, whose manhood was won in battle against a black dragon whose name none dare speak. Wearing a crown of chains and bearing the sigil of the Phoenix — a house cursed to burn and rise again — he tamed flame and steel not for glory, but to protect the weak and rebuild from ruin. His warhammer, Gothmog, was born of dragonbone, fireheart, and the unhatched eggs of the beast he slew; yet even this mighty weapon paled beside his will. Draconius stood not as emperor, but as bulwark — against sea leviathans, skyborne invaders, underfolk incursions, and the ever-churning storm of politics. Betrayed, tested, hunted, and hailed, he did not fall — for he was Phoenix-born, fire-bound, and unbroken.