Demoneman

Grolmar was born in Rexdom of Krugmar, beginning his life in San'Velkuz until shortly after being kidnapped and enslaved. It was by a group of rogue Elvish slavers, profiting off the crude ale and hardy, vulgar grain reaped by slaves of all races. Those of which were lucky just to be paid in beatings and gruel. As he grew up he realized the pointlessness of fighting back never daring to make a move against a master, staying out of trouble, due to this behavior he was able to develop strong mental attitude and thought. His silence and hard-work helped him grow resilient, and eventually he grew the backbone to try to escape. He was big, he was mean, he was loud, or at least that's what he had hoped to be because in order to leave he'd likely have to fight his way out. His family was more than meaningful to him, of course, so he considered the plan with them, and almost none of them wanted to have any part of it. Only his mother agreed, who was tired of being treated as though she weren't a lady, even as an orc. That day, he carried his mother on his back as night fell, and silently took down any guard that might've served as a problem. At least as silently as an orc can be, and ran through the woods that day all night, never once stopping no matter how restless or fatigued he was. He never even looked back to see if he was being chased. As dawn rose, he and his mother were drained of energy, but he looked up to see the great, big city of Oren. There they spent the night at a backstreet inn with what little money they had from working the field, and tomorrow Grolmar decided with his newly earned freedom, he'd start a farm, oh how ironic it was.