Toskar's history is posted in the Rogue's Gallery, and I will add it here as well.
[sblock]The Trollbane clan traces their roots back to when Toskar’s grandfather, Veitus led the war party of dwarven warriors that defeated a tribe of mountain trolls and drove them from the Ironhill Mountains. It was a phyrric victory, as in the process Veitus’ brother and wife were killed during the battle leaving the responsibility of raising his son, as well as the sons of his brothers, squarely on his shoulders. Praying to Moradin for guidance, Veitus opened up a small inn and began to raise his new family to the best of his ability.
As the years passed, the small dwarven community slowly began to prosper, and when Moradin blessed them with veins of mithril deep in the mines, the dwarfs knew the work had been truly worth it.
Ivan Trollbane grew up following in his father’s footsteps and once his time serving in the fledgling militia of the community was over, he traveled to several of the outlying dwarven communities apprenticing himself as a journeyman brewer and barrel maker. His travels lasted over three decades, and when he finally returned to the Ironhills, Veitus welcomed him back with open arms and the father and son team added a side wing the inn to accommodate the brewery Ivan wanted to start.
When Veitus decided it was time for his sons to marry, he sent them out once more among the dwarven clans and told them not to return without a wife. While to the humans who had began living with the dwarves, it seemed an odd thing for a father to say to his children, to Ivan and his adopted brothers, it was simply the truth of the matter, and within five years, Veitus’ family had doubled in size.
The family would soon grow once more as Toskar was born on the day of Ivan and Illyana’s third anniversary. It was a time of celebration for Veitus, as he felt that Moradin would soon be calling him to rejoin the celestial forge, and he wanted to know that his family would prosper after he was gone.
Toskar was barely walking when Veitus passed away, and for the first time in over a century of it being opened, the Trollsbane Tavern was closed.
Ivan brought Toskar up the same way his father had, hoping to instill in his son the same virtues his father had instilled in him. He taught Toskar the trade language of man and of the giants which inhabited the Northern spires of the mountains, and as soon as Toskar was strong enough, Ivan began training Toskar with the same war-axe Veitus had instructed him with.
Toskar was a quick student, and used his size to his advantage often in sparring matches with fellow students. Moradin had blessed him with a frame packed with dense muscle and a quick mind, and when Toskar was assigned to his first patrol, he brought honor to his name by being selected as patrol captain.
Their outing was supposed to be a simple escort to the human settlement at the base of the mountains, but the dark gods had other plans in mind. A young red was seeking a place to establish its lair, and saw the small dwarven caravan as a ripe target. Swooping down from its rocky perch, it tore into the dwarven cadets with its razor sharp teeth and claws. Charging towards the red, Toskar barely registered the fact the dragon had snapped its tail at him until it collided with his head and sent his world into darkness.
When he awoke, his world had become muffled, as if he was straining to hear through a door made of stone, and all that remained of the caravan he was guarding was a broken wagon and several dead bodies. Forcing his legs to support his weight, he staggered back up the trail until another militia party, which had been summoned when the humans had spotted the dragon flying away, found him.
Although he was not blamed for what had happened, Toskar felt that he had failed both his family and those that he had been appointed to protect and lead. The guilt began to gnaw at him constantly, and he took the damage to his hearing as a sign of Moradin’s displeasure in him as well.
Pulling further and further away from the community and his family, Toskar simply left one day for a walk and never returned taking only his armor and the plain service axe he had carried with him on his first outing.
He did not have a destination in mind, and when he arrived on the outskirts of the town of Cauldron, he decided that this was as good as any to begin anew. None here would know of his failure, and none here would expect anything of him that he was not willing to give.
After breaking up a fight before it could start in a bar called the Tipped Tankard, he was offered a job there as a bouncer. The pay would not be great, but his room and meals would be free, and Toskar agreed on the condition that the Tankard had to start making better ale. Shaking on the agreement, Toskar bought a greatclub shaped like the cudgels the local priests of St Cuthbert carried and let everyone know on his first night on the job he was not afraid to use it. His message was quickly received, and their has not been a fight in the Tankard since.[/sblock]
Edit: I also hope you don't mind the liberties I took in my last post, but I didn't want to hold the group up with an RP session which didn't have them in it. If I overstepped myself, I will edit it out, but I did/do want to work on fleshing out the Tankard, as it is starting to grow on me...
