Drastyal is not a homunculus. He is a native of Atherion, born and raised in the kingdom. He is no longer a part of any world in a sense, however. There is nothing beneath his overgrown armor, it is a hollow vessel for his soul filled with life that has grown in the absence of a body. Drastyal is a ghost who walks the land of the living, held here by his own grief.

A thousand years ago, Drastyal fought among the original champions of Regret. When the passage of time came to collect them, he never left. In the aftermath of the war against Yddrog, Drastyal's friends and family had fallen, leaving him to grieve. The world had won against extinction, but at what cost? The dragon was gone, but so were the heroes. In his final days, onset by terrible wounds in battle, Drastyal was offered eternal life by Regret's side. He refused. Why should he be allowed to live forever in a paradise among the gods when Yddrog's victims were not afforded such an opportunity? Drastyal could not bear the weight of so much loss, and chose to die in peace, to join his fallen friends wherever they may be.

This, however, would not be his fate.

Hours after his passing, Drastyal woke up once again in his armor. His body felt hollow, and he felt stronger. His soul had laid claim to the armor, consigning him to walk the world forever as ghost. Unable to save those he loved, and unable to rest in peace, he stood up and walked away. Decades passed before his mind could be put to ease, but he still carried guilt in his heart all the same. In his undeath, Drastyal wandered across the land, immortalizing his fallen comrades with graves built by his own two hands. A lonely place no one ever goes to anymore now stands as a memory of that time, and it inspired Drastyal to keep going. His armor had become his body, and he no longer felt the fatigue that mortals felt, and so he set out to pay his respects to the living by helping them in ways that did not cause bloodshed.

In various parts of Atherion, one could find a knight covered in roses and wild moss laying stones in a road, or building the foundation of structures that would benefit the community he was found in. Sometimes it was something simple like a sturdy fence to keep farm animals in place, other times it was something much grander like an entire house made of timber and bricks to shelter people after a storm destroyed their homes. Every time this armored figure was seen, no one could ever talk to him. He disappeared before anyone could even ask him his name. He was always there to aid the people, and to build monuments to the deceased. Some people took to calling him an urban legend known as the Lonely Knight, but he was less than a legend, and more than a myth. It was through these deeds that Drastyal found a sense of peace. He still felt immeasurable sorrow for the people he failed to save, but he was no longer haunted by them. If such remorse could be healed, then Drastyal had healed it.

As an undead warrior devoted selflessly to watching over humanity, Drastyal's strength lies in his ability to fight. His body is made of heavy metal and wild foliage. Therefore, he does not feel pain or fatigue, and is capable of incredible physical strength that other, more fleshy people can't achieve now matter how in shape they are. Drastyal is best suited for the front lines, where he can swing a heavy sword at enemies with little regard necessary for his own safety. While Drastyal is irrevocably dedicated to protecting people, he is not connected to the Archon of Regret. His actions in life caused her to take notice of him, but Drastyal turned down her gifts in the depths of his sorrow. He possesses none of the conventional advantages that her champions benefit from. If something causes him to "die" for a second time, he won't come back again.

Out of combat, Drastyal shows to be very good with his hands. Being a thousand years old and not needing to eat or sleep leaves him with plenty of spare time to anything from paving a road or building a house to something as small as a carved piece wood. Drastyal has a particular fondness for making things that help other people. A walking stick for the old man with a bad leg, a bedframe for a poor family about to have another child, or a warm coat for someone unprepared for winter; the living have material needs that are sometimes difficult to meet, and Drastyal's emotional comfort is derived from meeting them with love put into every cut that he makes, stitch that he sews, or nail he hammers. He can also play a few instruments, but don't ask him to play a flute or anything else that requires lungs.