Thokk was born to the Iron-Fang clan, a culture that measured a man’s worth by the acreage of blood-soaked soil beneath his boots. While his brothers practiced the swing of the greataxe, Thokk spent his youth in the clan's hijacked orchards, fascinated by the way light filtered through leaves. His life changed forever when a crystalline Xorn, starving and terrified, tore through the fabric of the Prime Material Plane and landed in his lap. Instead of shouting for the guards, Thokk offered the creature his ham-and-apple sandwich. Watching the extra-planar beast crunch contentedly on the salt-cured meat, Thokk realized that the multiverse wasn't a series of fortresses to be stormed, but a vast, interconnected neighborhood waiting for an introduction.
He abandoned his clan that night, taking only his pruning hook—which he eventually fashioned into a planar fishing rod—and a satchel of seeds. He spent decades walking the 'invisible seams,' the thin places where the Feywild leaks into a tavern cellar or the Shadowfell brushes against a lonely crossroads. He has mediated disputes between Githyanki raiding parties and Modron surveyors, usually by finding the one thing both sides find delicious. To Thokk, every rift is just a front door he hasn't knocked on yet, and every 'monster' is just a neighbor who hasn't been invited to the picnic.