The Doom Caster

In the first age, in the first battle, when the chunks first
loaded, one stood. Burned by the embers of Anarchy, his soul
blistered by the fires of the Nether and tainted beyond ascension, he chose
the path of perpetual torment. In his ravenous hatred he found no peace;
and with boiling blood he burrowed the Barren Plains casting vengeance
against those who had wronged him. He wore the crown of pebbles, and those who witness the might of his casts named him... the Doom Caster.