Two centuries ago, the reign of King Gedric Baselor ended not with a whimper, but in a blaze of fire and the bitter taste of betrayal. In his youth, Gedric was a charismatic figure, earning the undying loyalty of his subjects through bold leadership on the battlefield and grand feasts held in the resplendent halls of his castle. However, his ascent to the throne marked the beginning of a descent into madness and debauchery that would forever stain his legacy.

Whispers began to circulate, hinting at the king's involvement in depraved rituals, the practice of dark magic, and sinister pacts with forces beyond mortal comprehension. Gedric's paranoia knew no bounds, as he saw enemies lurking in every shadow, resulting in brutal reprisals against both nobles and peasants alike. The kingdom, once basking in the glory of its charismatic leader, found itself ensnared in a web of fear and violence.

It was amidst this maelstrom of chaos that a mysterious inferno consumed the castle, reducing it to smoldering ruins with Gedric trapped inside. His apparent demise was met with relief by most, who eagerly embraced the notion of a kingdom freed from his tyranny.

For two long centuries, the kingdom believed that Gedric Baselor's dynasty was nothing more than a haunting memory of a bygone era. Yet, the echoes of history can sometimes be relentless, and Gedric's return was as unexpected as it was horrifying. From a crypt buried deep beneath the ruins, he emerged as a specter of his former self, no longer possessing living flesh, but instead an animated skeleton wreathed in eldritch fire.

The world he once ruled was irrevocably transformed, and the dynasty he had fought so hard to maintain had crumbled into dust. Gedric wandered aimlessly through the altered land, a relic of an era forgotten by all but him. Moldy dungeons and shadowed groves became his sanctuaries, where he brooded upon the injustice of his betrayal and senseless murder. It was in these forlorn places that a cold, unrelenting hatred took root in his soul.

Though Gedric's flesh had long melted away, his mind remained intact, a captive within an undying husk. He bore witness to his own history—the opulence of his rule, the relentless descent into madness, the searing bitterness of the poisoned chalice that ended his life. But above all, he remembered the faces of those who had once sworn loyalty, only to turn against him.

The skeletal king bided his time in the shadows, his essence nourished by loss, rage, and an unyielding longing for the lost glory of his reign. Magic still coursed through his bones, waiting for the moment when it would be unleashed. Soon, Gedric would have his vengeance upon the living, and he vowed to reclaim his stolen crown. The kingdom would once again tremble at the mere mention of his name, as a relentless darkness from the past emerged to haunt the present.