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 prefer freedom over 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. In this war 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 marched 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 were lost completely.
The loss of his father and brother sent his mother into a depression. 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 these battles.
A few years later, the drums of war returned. It seemed Vordul Sanguinis had not forgotten about this 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 assert itself, 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, pillaged and raided what they could; and with military forces locked in battle with each other, hordes of monsters and undead roamed freely.
When word arrived that an undead force was moving towards his home, Dredmor left the battle lines with a group of those loyal to him to defend his home. They arrived in time 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 by murdering, pillaging, and raping... Dredmor moved in to fight back, hopelessly outnumbered.
He moved quickly toward his home estate, but being one of the largest buildings around, it was one of the first targeted. Most of the enemy had moved on before he arrived, but he dispatched the few stragglers remaining. 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.
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 the things that he had done, a bright light slowly revealed itself to him. At first it looked like a star, descending from the sky, before gently illuminating him and the grave. He became aware of a presence, something tapping into his mind.
"You are troubled, it is clear, but I wonder by what... After the loss of your father and brother you dedicated your life to destroying the monsters of this land. Yet here you sit, the victim of senseless bloodshed, brought forth by humanity, that which you strove to protect... You desire vengeance now? Then you shall have it. Unknown to you, a plan has been set in motion this day of which you shall play an important part."
Dredmor blinked, trying to focus his eyes on the light and his mind on the intrusive presence in his mind. "I already have a purpose, and I have no interest in your games. Leave me now, go find another to toy with, I will not be a pawn!"
A sensation washed over him, something like amusement, before the voice continued. "What you desire is of no interest to me. I bind you too me now. No, don't bother resisting. From this point forward, you are as chained. I see that angers you. I don't care. But if it brings you any comfort, know this, our goals coincide and you will be allowed to continue on this path of destruction you so desire. However, If you are to be my weapon, I will ensure you are potent one. I grant you a gift. Tonight you saw that the undead and other fiends that roam these lands are not the only monsters in this world." the light began to slowly move away while speaking, the voice beginning to fade. "To accomplish what you desire, you must be as a monster, and so, from this point forward you will no longer feel. I take away from you, your burden of empathy, compassion, and all other things that make you human..."
Dredmor drifted to blackness.
Awaking the next morning, lying on the ground next to the fresh grave, he looked at the carnage around him, at the grave, and the evidence of slaughter around him and upon him. 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, for as looking at his mother's grave, he felt nothing...except rage.
