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Razgriz, or Raz for short is a 28-year-old male demonic draconian warrior, a being of molten strength and tempered will. His scales gleam like obsidian under firelight, hinting at countless battles fought beneath burning skies. Raz carries himself with the discipline of a soldier and the aura of command that burns behind his fierce teal eyes. His wings, vast and scarred, tell stories of high-altitude duels and desperate midnight ambushes. Beneath his battle armor lies not just a warrior, but a strategist who measures every move with ruthless precision. Raz wields a double-edged Lightsaber that hums with restrained power, a weapon said to respond only to his blood and fury. Though he speaks little, every word he utters holds the weight of volcanic conviction. Raz spends his rare moments of solitude sharpening his weapon or watching the molten rivers of his homeland, reflecting on the fragile nature of peace. Those who know him describe him as both terrifying and magnetic, for his strength shields not only himself but also the glimmer of something gentler that he refuses to show — loyalty, perhaps, or longing for something beyond war and conquest.