As a child, the boys in the village would run away from her when she came to play, too afraid of her roughhousing to let her go anywhere near them. She'd established a reputation then, fearless and tough, determined to win every single round of arm wrestling she ever started. As an adult, that reputation didn't change, but the boys in the village did stop running away.

Even before she became a soldier, Drazi carried an air of recklessness where she went, always the eager first to wade into the dark, unexplored depths of the forest, the first to take on a particularly infernal dare. She rushes into any situation without fear, a wild grin on her face. It was the same when she entered the military, oblivious to the initial scoffs and looks of disbelief that followed her when picked up an axe and charged headlong into a spar with a man twice her size and weight. But then again, she was never one for convention, the matrons in her village always shaking their heads at her behavior, telling her to correct her posture, put down that stick and pick up a needle. She didn't listen much then, and she doesn't listen much now. People's worth, in her eyes, is only what they've proven their worth to be, no matter whether they're high born or low born. She gives as much respect as she's given, but treats all people with a decency until they give her reason not to.

Loud and boisterous, Drazi has a gift for breaking down walls or easing tension. On the flip side, she also has a gift for being blind to uneasy situations that are best suited for silence. She also has no concept of distance, believes herself to be the friend of people she's only exchanged a mere "hello" with, slings an arm around their shoulders and calls them 'partner.' Just as when she was a child, Drazi has no qualms about challenging near strangers to an arm wrestle as though they've been friends for years. She's quick with a joke and a tongue-in-cheek insult, even quicker with a friendly headlock and painful scraping of her knuckles against someone's scalp. She's a good soldier and a better friend with a penchant for getting herself into trouble. But she always trusts the people she's allied herself with to bail her out, because she knows they know she'd do just the same for them.

Drazik was not born in Reskaea, but rather taken there young by her mother to escape increasing civil turmoil in her native country. Drazi's mother settled with her and her grandmother in some small village on the outskirts of the country, and remarried soon enough that Drazi grew up knowing a father. She also grew up with her mother's full support of her reckless and exploratory nature, consoled her when the older women of the village scolded her for playing just as roughly as the boys. Her mother told her that the women of the countryside were rather close-minded, knew nothing of the world outside of their small huts and gardens. Then she would tell her tales of her country of birth, how everyone in her mother's village would roam wild and free, nomadic and always eager to see what the new stretch of land would bring. When she was old enough, Drazi applied to be enlisted into a training program for future professional soldiers.

Fifteen years old and fighting with boys who had the advantage over her small frame, she picked up an axe for the first time and was surprised at how natural it felt in her hands. She trained to her advantages, built her strength, honed the natural litheness her body granted her. She rose above the same men who had knocked the wind out of her countless times, made them say 'I concede' just as many times. Surprisingly, this earned her no enemies in the group, rather made her a somewhat respected figure. The amicable fighter with fire in her blood—that's what she became known as. She rather liked it.

As the cream of the crop, she was fast-tracked to join the Royal Guard, underwent brutal training with soldiers several years her senior. She prevailed, as she always did, became one of the youngest to sign on to the highest form of patriotism available. The first few years on the job meant border patrol. Everyone knew that. In times past, it was an easier job, often with little to do but wait, play cards, sleep, train, and eat. But that was before the war with Faeyer. Now, border patrol meant constant battle, training received through the true experience of combat. For many, it was terrifying; for Drazi, it was thrilling. She loved, especially, to visit the grateful townsfolk from the villages on the border after she'd helped successfully fend off an attack. It made her happy, seeing the results of her effort, knowing she was making a real, tangible impact. The people reminded her of the ones she'd grown up with.

The Dawn Brigade crossed paths with her in battle fought against invading Faeyeran forces. She recognized the knight, Alain, from her training, used to spar with him quite often. In fact, a young teenager, she'd even harbored some semblance of feelings for him, though those were long gone by then. They got to speaking after their win, and she didn't hesitate for a moment before signing onto their cause. Her superiors would be furious, but they'd be fine with it, she was sure, when the Brigade cleansed Reskaea of Faeyeran forces, as she knew they'd someday find a way to do.

Wild and reckless, Drazi often finds herself on the front lines of battle whether the strategy calls for her to be there or not. The tactician has adapted to her rash decisions, uses her in a similar function as the knight: the break apart otherwise solid enemy lines. An able fighter, Drazi relies on her strength and sturdy constitution to take out enemies with hard and heavy blows without, hopefully, taking too much damage herself. With defense that's not quite up to par, Drazi uses her decent agility to avoid truly terrible blows, though she is very capable of taking quite the beating. The large and hefty axes she wields tend to weigh her down, keeping her from attacking more than once in quick succession. As such, she often makes the attempt to take down her opponents in one blow through the use of brute force. She frequently overestimates her abilities, however, which can land her in tricky situations. Every body has its breaking point, and Drazi has the bad habit of ignoring hers. She is typically the one most often in need of healing, since her lack of foresight leads her to rush headlong into any fight, even one with unfavorable odds.

During a typical standoff against one or two enemies, Drazi favors the axe Vaglaskogi, a wickedly sharp weapon that comes with two blades on each side of the handle. It is a two handed weapon that requires more effort to use, but it also deals far more damage and, because it's double-sided, also allows her to attack a second enemy quicker. She has the unique advantage of being ambidextrous, a skill particularly useful when she is outnumbered, When surrounded by several enemies, Drazi makes the switch to one-handed steel axe in her right and a throwable hand axe in her left. While her true talents shine in one-on-one melee combat, she is more than capable of holding her ground against a number of opponents.