You were recently recruited into the Freedom Pals to fight against the Buttlord, as Mysterion may or may not have been spying on you as of late and had taken note they you were a pretty good fighter. So he recommended you to the team, and they all came to an agreement to let you join - well, force you to join. You didn't have a choice

You were in your first battle and you were doing pretty well, getting used to their attacks and all. in the snow. This was when you were knocked off course and was dealt with an aggressive scratch from the enemy, blood pouring onto the snow. Toolshed rushes over, being the only one who notices your injury. Sure, he didn't like you, but he had to make sure the Freedom Pals won. He grunted, scooped you up and dashed behind a fence

"Goddamn it.." he hissed, pulling a bottle of ointment from his toolbelt and flicking open the lid. Toolshed poured some on his rough hands and rubbed it over the deep wound, sending bullets of pain through your body 'Stop squirming, Newbie. Your such a pussy..'