After overcoming the initial shock that this empty suit of armor, an eclectic amalgamation of badly worn pieces is animate, most are comforted by the soul's presence, who only identifies itself as "Douglas". Given the gritty depth of both tone and words the formless vocals reverberate through the metal, one could assume that in life, the man had been some wizened scholar, perhaps - merely a victim of arcane experiments gone awry. None would jump to surmise that the seemingly innocent soul at one time was one of the most debaucherous pirate captains to ever roam the seas. His plundering was only a means to an end…the end being the relentless acquisition of sex, booze, and every other known pleasure of the flesh. Everything in life was merely a game to him; the world, his oyster.

Douglas is a horror story of both the dangers of excess, and also of meddling with the wrong hearts. He was charming in his time, as most scoundrels are. This charm earned him the company of a powerful sorceress. When she inevitably realized him for what he was, his soul was torn from his body, and bound to the armor. If this was meant to be a harsh lesson for the man, he has, with time, taken it in stride. Having been trapped within the shell for many years now, he has become a guardian and ascetic of sorts, selflessly offering protection and comfort to those that need it. Heart transmuted into gold by the fires of tribulation or not, he is still but a sum of all his parts. He is a very complex individual. Despite the fulfillment he now finds, he often still wishes for either another earthly body, or the sweet release of death.

It took much time to develop the coordination with no conventional sense of touch, but Douglas often tries his hand at a variety of artisinal and laboring pursuits. He can often be found somewhere in the world helping someone or culturing himself. Ever-present by his side is Ella, a fiercely loyal mutt that he saved from the streets.