The blood of the dragon boils in Dromai’s veins.
The ancient dragons have awoken.
Once mere memories, forgotten notes scratched into dusty tomes, they now soar across Volcor’s smoking skies. With ferocity and flame, they sear a path through Dromai’s enemies, a road that she alone dares to walk.
Once manipulated from the shadows, the puppet has severed her strings. She will not bow to the lies of her past. Neither will she bow to the false promises of others’ grand futures. Dromai has her dragons. That is all she needs, and the will to use them to fulfil her own burning desires.
The artist’s destiny is painted in ash and blood. Dromai will create her masterpiece for all to behold, and this time, no one will stand in her way.

Ash Artistry
All Illusionists use a base material mixed with aether to craft their fantastical creations. Dromai has mastered the talent of ash artistry, able to animate ash from her surrounding environment into fragile yet fearsome forms, none more so than the legendary dragons of Volcor.

Dragons of Volcor
Dromai studies the ancient tomes of the Twelve Dragons to craft ash-born manifestations of the legendary creatures. When her illusions are powerful enough, semblance becomes flesh, and her enemies face the enormity of these draconic weapons thought lost to time.

Red Hot
Dromai likes it red hot. Pack your deck with many red color strip cards to make the most of her hero ability and Draconic cards. Pitch red cards to create the Ash to craft her illusionary dragons, then use a red as the incendiary spark to BURN THEM ALL!
Ashes to Ashes
Learn
STORY
Dromai barely remembers her parents, Torvai the Dracai, and Sani of the Sandfolk. Murdered before she had even learned to walk. Min of the Forest of Flames found her, raised her in a humble village amongst the struggle and strife of Volcai life. A hatchling dragon in the nest of the phoenix.
She and Min’s son became as thick as thieves. Dromai was the mastermind, deceiving and dismaying with wit and illusion. Her adoptive brother was her minion, liberating sweets and toys from childish rivals. Yet Dromai did not plan these capers for the simple fun of it. She planned them for the practice. For the preparation. She felt different, a pretender among the peasants. Deep in her heart, Dromai knew she was destined for greater things.
When the Dracai led her away from that burning village, she did not weep. She did not even look back. She had never belonged there. Hers was the Way of the Dracai. Where power awaited beyond her imagining?
No. Dromai’s imagination is as boundless as her ambition. She is an ash artist, and her visions will strike terror into the hearts of all who behold them.

