IGN Giveaway: Who is the hero known as "Beard"?

[Teases]

Come closer, and hear my whispers… though today not often remembered, many harvests ago, our lands were ruled by a band of seven Grim Lords who served as hands to a monstrous and ghastly king. The wickedness that transpired on the ground you walk on… but, our story starts even before then, to the birth of Salma.

Born sickly and near death, her parents pled to the Gods, calling each by name but to deaf ears. It was only when Salma neared her final hours did a deity appear, calling himself Bashir. He promised them that Salma would indeed live a long life “but nothing gets you nothing” he sneered, “Salma will indeed live a long life, and it will be wonderful, and she will want for naught, but at the cost of her final years, which will be plagued with misfortune, deriving no happiness.”

They sat in quiet contemplation as the divine lingered, a voyeur to their tragedy. “She will know happiness, Miriam, and we will tell her of her woes to come, and she will be ready.” They held each other as they struck the deal.

“I am not an unkind God, I will bestow upon her a gift: the gift of beauty. She will grow gracefully, beautiful both of face and heart.” and as it was foretold, Salma did indeed age into beauty beyond compare, and wanted for naught. She was charitable, and kind, wanting only happiness and the betterment of other people. Her heart and soul became so pure, her skin radiated sunlight and offset moonbeams.

It was this very beauty that attracted the Terrible King. Believing himself the better of every man in Arlor, he saw only fit his bride be the best of every woman. But again as it was foretold, Salma was prepared, knowing only hardship would follow. Unable to deny him, Salma would give birth to a son… Beard.

Named for his bloodline, the King wanted nothing more than for his son to grow up, masculine and just as every bit as terrible as he. The Fates, however, had a different plan. Beard, unlike his name, would grow up to be lanky and having scarce facial hair… the bane of his father.

As he neared the age of puberty, the King became more and more cruel at the disappointment he came to make. It was after his nightly beating that Salma would come into Beard’s bedroom and tell him stories. “Do you know the story of your father, Beard?”

“Of course, mama.”
“Tell it to me tonight my beloved.”
“Long ago, the fates foresaw a terrible darkness, one that would cover Arlor for hundreds of years, and would consume the world in blood and fire.”

Salma would always chuckle at his dramatic readings.

“Yes, habibi, but do you know the story of your mother?”
“Nooo” he replied innocently.
“You see, I was born very ill, and my mother and father traded my future happiness for the life I live. It was said that my future would fruit no happiness, and my days plagued by misfortunes.”
Beard gasped in surprise, “Is that true, mama?”
“Well what do I have here on my face?”
“A smile?”
“A smile.” she said, “Now, if I’m smiling, do you think my life has bore no happiness? For despite all the darkness that surrounds us, my habibi, this life has given me you. The Fates can tell of prophecy, Beard, but we choose our own destiny.”

With his mother’s words ringing in his ears, when Beard came of age, he stabbed his father as he slept, and looked into his black, black eyes. “How can a man as evil as you be king with this bastard heart?”

It is said that free of his reign, the people overthrew the Grim Lords, and buried them so far into the ground that even the annals of time would forget them and their immortal dread, and with them, Beard… but, if you listen closely, to the whispers in the wind, you may hear their tale again.