The Man of Sorrows is a sorceror who sought to trade his soul to an assembly of demons in exchange for immortality and incredible power. The demons, in a rare capricious moment of mingled mercy and cruelty, let him keep his soul instead. So he feels the full weight of all the evil he does, the suffering he causes, the certain knowledge that what he does makes the world a darker, meaner, lonelier place. The tears and pervasive aura of sadness comes from this weight, but it does not deter him from his pursuit of power.
He has now been alive for eight hundred years, but due to the demons’ deal, the emotional toll of the murderous soul eating, belief vampirism, and unspeakable rituals he must perform to attain whatever equivalent of godhood he seeks, has not dimmed one solitary bit. It hounds him now, drives him, has made him even more merciless. Those who know best hide their faces from this twisted messiah. Good friend, hope that you never hear those dragging yet persistent footsteps behind you. Pray your ears never know the sound of imps teeth grinding wet spectral flesh. Pray you never hear that voice full of the centuries’ tears, whispering in a trembling tenor “I’m so, so sorry….”