A broad-shouldered male goliath standing nearly eight feet tall, with slate-gray skin marked by pale geometric birth patterns across his arms and collarbone. His black hair is worn in short, uneven braids bound with strips of red leather, and a heavy brow frames watchful amber eyes. Old rope burns circle his wrists, while a faded scar cuts from his left ear to his jaw. He carries himself with the stillness of a mountain before an avalanche.

Quietly attentive and unusually patient, Korzsak notices who is cold, hungry, lost, or frightened before he notices who is impressive. He has a dry sense of humor and a deep respect for practical skill. He dislikes boasting, needless cruelty, and people who waste food. Beneath his reserved manner is a powerful fear that he will once again be the strongest person present and still not be enough.

Korzsak was born among a highland goliath clan that measured worth by endurance, judgment, and the ability to carry another person home. As a child, he learned to read weather from the taste of the wind and to judge a safe trail by the way snow settled on stone. His father taught him to hunt ibex across narrow ridges, while his mother taught him that strength without restraint was merely another kind of weakness. During a winter migration, an avalanche buried part of the clan's trail party. Korzsak survived by breaking through the packed snow with his bare hands, then returned again and again until every living traveler had been pulled free. One of the elders did not survive, and Korzsak left the mountains afterward, troubled by the knowledge that he had saved bodies but not hope. He now wanders as a guide, hunter, and sellsword, seeking places where his strength can protect people who have no mountain clan behind them. When anger takes him, he fights with the terrifying certainty of falling rock, but afterward he is quiet, ashamed of how easily fury answers his call.