He did. Nelphas used to be a man once. A handsome man with a promising future. He served the Light, had a family and crusaded against evil in an age when it was becoming a place free of the taint of evil.
Then the ambush happened. He was taken off patrol. His men were tortured and slaughtered in front of him and everything he loved was slowly torn from him, like his flesh was slowly stripped from his bones. Through sources he could never comprehend, this evil kept him alive and conscious, so he could witness them changing him slowly until nothing was left of his body that was his own and nothing was left of his mind but madness. His body was broken down, reassembled with the corpses of men stolen from their blissful graves.
They thought they could control him when they were done, but his will and his rage was strong. He broke free of their bonds before the final blows, the maddening blows that would have stolen the last bits of who Nelphas was, what made him a man. He killed them. With his bare, roughly stitched arms he slaughtered them all like livestock, tore their limbs and their lives from their twitching, bleeding corpses. He ran, incoherent and bestial, until Nelphas could run no longer, until even his undead legs would no longer drive. And so he came to be here, seeking refuge in this place of gaiety and communal support, hoping to reestablish the few shattered, sorrowful visions of life before this...this hell.
Nelphas is a monstrosity, as he calls himself. His mottled skin is covered in horrible swaths of thick black stitches, piecing his stolen body parts to his heavy frame. His arms are corded with thick, knotted muscle and are attached to broad shoulders that led to a heavy, sloping chest. His neck was powerful and broad, leading up to a face that could have once been called handsome, if not for the scars. Maybe if he would ever smile, one would be able to see it again. Maybe. His shaggy hair never grows, being attached to dead cells, but instead lays limply over his skull, covering his eyes if the impatient construct doesn't push it out of the way.
(Unfinished)