Gloomdirge Family/Dredmor
He was 15 when rogue forces swept through his home state of Ircymbar, wresting control from the tyrannical theocracy of Vordul Sanquinis. Once the dust settled though, calm descended surprisingly quickly. Turns out peasants and farm folk aren't crazy about tyrannical bloodthirsty leaders who consider themselves gods…
Though the grasp of a distant ruler had been broken, the everyday threat of monsters and undead that is part of Beluaterra still existed. Being one of the larger households in the area, the Gloomdirge family was often at the front line, martialing a defense and leading the people into battle against their fiendish foe. Two years after the liberation of their realm, his father and elder brother picked up arms and marched off to face another threat. This time though, the scouting report went terribly wrong. What they thought was a relatively small incursion ended up being an entire horde lead by an Undead Champion. The stalwart defenders of Ircymbar did their realm proud, but they were lost completely.
The loss of his father and brother sent his mother into a depression she would never return from. She became a pale, frail figment of the youthful and vibrant women she once was. Dredmor, the next eldest and now head of the household was determined to wipe out the fiendish threats and was often seen on the front lines of the forces raised to dispatch them.
A few years later, the drums of war returned. It seemed Vordul Sanguinis had not forgotten about it's unruly realm and returned, intent to reclaim it back into it's unholy embrace. To further complicate things, The Sanguine Empires enemy Obia'Syela decided to throw it's hat into the ring as well, claiming ownership of Ircymbar for itself and sending forth it's armies. War raged between Vordul Sanguinis, Obia'Syela, and the free people of Ircymbar who wanted nothing to do with either. In the midst of this chaos bandits, taking advantage of the chaos and pillaged and raided what they could; and with military forces locked in battle with each other, hordes of monsters and undead were allowed to roam freely.
When word arrived that a large undead force was moving towards his home, Dredmor left the battle lines with a group of those loyal to him to defend their home. The arrived to see an undead horde being routed by an Obia'Syela force. They breathed a sigh of relief, but alas, relief was not to come. It turns out Obia'Syela had decided Icrymbar was not worth the trouble and called it's forces to return home. The undead horde happened to be in the way of this force, a simple obstacle of which needed to be removed. With the undead horde destroyed, the Obia'Syela forces decided to take payment from the village for saving them and proceed to murder, pillage, and rape everyone and everything in the town. Dredmor moved in to fight back, hopelessly outnumbered, he was ready to die in defense of his home.
He moved quickly toward his home estate, but being one of the largest buildings around, it was naturally one of the first targeted. Most of the enemy had moved on before he arrived, but he dispatched the few stragglers who were careless enough to become separated from the main force. Bodies of maids and servants lined the corridors and everything was ransacked. He found his mother, in her bedroom she had shared with his father, brutally murdered. His body went numb and his vision turned red. In a rage he ran out into the street and brutally killed any enemy soldiers he could find, sparing them no mercy. He had spent years years fighting to protect his world from monsters only to realize people were just as much monsters as the fiends he had been slaying.
Later when the fighting was done, he returned to his home to bury his mother.
As he sat over the newly covered grave thinking of the things he'd seen that day, and that he'd done, a bright light slowly revealed itself to him. At first it looked like a star, descending from the sky, but as it got closer it became apparent it was something else. It rose and fell, sped up and slowed down, and eventually stopped right above him, illuminating him and the grave. Slowly, he became aware of a presence, not physical, something tapping right into his mind. This entity didn't reveal itself, but explained to him that a plan had now been set in motion and he would play a vital part.
"I bind you too me now. From here forward, you are as chained, for there is no escape. Your path will not be easy, but I can give you a gift to make it easier. Rather, I will remove what would otherwise hold you back. No longer shall you feel empathy towards another... Follow your path to vengeance and retribution and we shall both attain what we seek."
As the light faded, Dredmor drifted off into blackness.
When he awoke the next morning, lying on the ground next to the fresh grave, he looked at the carnage around him, the grave, and the evidence of slaughter around him and upon him. Then he thought of what happened, with the entity and the light. Was it real? He was sure it had been, yet it couldn't be. He looked around him and with a sense of dread, knew it must be true, as looking at his mother's grave, he felt nothing.
Then he thought of the binding and his now being an instrument, a plaything to some kind of god... and he raged.
