Dredgen yor was a warlock who went mad/corrupt, as his light became tainted so did his weapon, the hand cannon Rose, which after so much corruption became thorn. Dredgen yor was exiled from the tower and during his time killed a few guardians, including pahanin, the maker of super good advice and the only original survivor of the vault, and the original owner of the last word. Wanting to corrupt another, Dredgen yor killed the Guardian with last word when his apprentice, shin malphur was sleeping nearby. Shin awoke to the sounds of 2 gunshots, one being the last words. It's here that we think the Guardian with last word fired first killing Yor but he self rezed, being a sunsinger, and fired into the other back. He left the guardians ghost alone with a message for the apprentice and left the gun as a gift. From there on shin spent his life devoted to killing Yor, when he finally finds Yor, Yor doesn't even put up a fight, letting shin gun him down, as Yor explains himself, shin presses the last word to his skull before saying "yours, not mine" and fires. Edit: those who corrected me thank you, I got mixed with pujari for a moment. Yor was a hunter but i also knew there was speculation on that as well, rest should be right

This is just a theory but dredgen yor may not have been a hunter, some people believe home to be the warlock thanatonaut pujari because of this grimoire card; [quote]This is the vision I had when I leapt from the Shores of Time and let myself sink: I walked beneath the blossoms. The light came from ahead and the shadows of the flowers were words. They said things but I will not write them here. At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a Ghost. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was Light. The Ghost said to me: You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill. You do not belong here. This is a place of life. The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of Darkness. You seek to deceive me. But I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the warm wind and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt. When my Ghost raised me from the sea there was a thorn-cut in my left hand and it has not healed since.[/quote] This could have been the turning point that took pujari over the edge and become dredgen yor. The card talks about roses, thorns and how the traveller could be evil. The theory could also be supported by the fact that the picture of the thorn grimoire is of a warlock holding the weapon.

The fateful story of the Hunters Dredgen Yor, Shin Malphur, and Jaren Ward, all start in the small village of Palamon, in the wilds beyond the Last City. Shin Malphur grew up in Palamon, a small village recovering after the Collapse. Palamon was ruled by Magistrate Loken. Loken was broken, a shell of a man that took out his anger on the village. From the wilds, a stranger enters the village. Shin Malphur describes the stranger "was dangerous, but there was a light about him - a pureness to his weight - that seemed to hint that his ire was something earned, not carelessly given." Malphur then observed the massive weapon the stranger is sporting on his waist. The stranger walked to Malphur, and let him observe and touch the weapon. Malphur felt the cold steel, the weight of the metal, the power this weapon holds and the horrors it has slayed. The stranger is Jaren Ward. The weapon is The Last Word. Ward has arrived to chaperone the village to the safety of the Last City. Loken was not pleased. He ordered his nine guards to aim their weapons at Ward, Loken taunting him all the while. Loken: This is our town! My town! Ward: Not anymore. Loken: Those gonna be your last words then, boy? As quick as lightning, Ward has his cannon in his hand, smoke trailing from the barrel. Loken hit the ground, dead long before his body landed. A bullet wound in his forehead. Ward: Yours. Not mine. [There is no grimoire detailing what happened after this duel but it is assumed Ward takes on Malphur as his apprentice. Let's zoom ahead several weeks.] Jaren Ward scouts ahead, a trail of people behind him. He is leading them through the wilds to the Last City. Malphur follows behind his master, learning as he goes. On a dark, cold night, Ward senses danger, and leaves the camp of refugees to scope the area. Malphur is told to wait for him to come back. Several minutes past before the familiar crack of Ward's cannon echos through the darkness. But then, another shot. Not from Ward. The shot sounded like a hiss, sinister and dark The shot came from Dredgen Yor. A Hunter, like Ward, born from light, but corrupted by the darkness. The hiss was his cannon, the Thorn. Dredgen Yor has just murdered Jaren Ward. The ghost of Ward is devastated. But Yor, instead of destroying the ghost, let's the ghost take Ward's cannon. He tells the ghost to give the cannon to Ward's apprentice, and challenges him to a duel when the time is right. After this talk, Yor disappears. Much later, Yor murders another guardian, Pahanin, but that is another tale. [Several years later, at Dwindler's Ridge. I will let the grimoire card desribe.] We stood silent, the sun high. Seconds passed, feeling more like hours. He looked different. He seemed, now, to be weightless – effortless in an existence that would crush a man burdened by conscience. My gaze remained locked as I felt a heat rising inside of me. The other spoke… “Been awhile.” I gave no reply. “The gunslinger’s sword… his cannon. That was a gift.” My silence held as my thumb caressed the perfectly worn hammer at my hip. “An offering from me… to you.” The heat grew. Centered in my chest. I felt like a coward the day Jaren Ward died and for many cycles after. But here, I felt only the fire of my Light. The other probed… “Nothing to say?” He let the words hang. “I’ve been waiting for you. For this day.” His attempt at conversation felt mundane when judged against all that had come before. “Many times I thought you’d faltered. Given up…” All I’d lost, all who’d suffered, flashed rapid through my mind, intercut with a dark silhouette walking toward a frightened, weak, coward of a boy. The fire burned in me. The other continued… “But here you are. This is truly an end…” As his tongue slipped between syllables my gun hand moved as if of its own will. Reflex and purpose merged with anger, clarity and an overwhelming need for just that… an end. In step with my motion, the fire within burst into focus – through my shoulder, down my arm – as my finger closed on the trigger of my third father’s cannon. Two shots. Two bullets engulfed in an angry glow. The other fell. I walked to his corpse. He never raised his cursed Thorn – the jagged gun with the festering sickness. I looked down at the dead man who had caused so much death. My shooter still embraced by the dancing flames of my Light. A sadness came over me. I thought back to my earliest days. Of Palamon. Of Jaren. Leveling my cannon at the dead man’s helm, I paid one final tribute to my mentor, my savior, my father and my friend… “Yours… Not mine.” …as I closed my grip, allowing Jaren’s cannon, now my own, to have the last, loud word.

Dredgen yor was the guy to say "yours, not mine"

No theories, the whole saga is laid out in the thorn grimoire and last word grimoire. Click on my profile and go to my grimoire cards to read it.