As a young boy growing up in the barbaric north, Garl was often picked on
for being stupid and also because of his good looks. After one particular
beating left him with a crooked nose and a large scar across his face, Garl
decided to stand up to his tormentors and to prove that he was a man. He
began exercising (and drinking & brawling) vigorously everyday and soon developed massive muscles.
One day the lord of his village summoned a horde to go a'plundering the Great Kingdom - a fairly common Spring pastime.
Lying about his age, Garl set sail south with hundreds of others. After a number of successfull raids, the party fell upon misfortune. The survivors - now shipless - continued their adventures until, one by one, all were dead save Garl. As all roads lead to Greyhawke, the young barbarian eventually found his way here with nothing to his name but a giant well-worn sword and a sack of loot.
Garl is just over 18 and physically huge. He wears tanned leathers all
year round. He isn't very smart, but is cunning and knows a great deal
about survival in the wilderness.