Garakh is a mountain of an orc, standing nearly seven feet tall with skin the color of a storm cloud. His body is crisscrossed with scars from mountain lions and tribal rituals alike. He wears thick furs and leather bindings, his dark hair braided with small bird bones and stone beads. His amber eyes hold a constant, smoldering intensity.

Garakh is a creature of few words, believing that the wind and the steel say more than any tongue ever could. He is fiercely independent and slow to trust, but he possesses a deep, unspoken respect for anyone who can survive the harsh realities of the wild without complaining.

Born under the shadow of the Gray Peaks, Garakh was always an outsider within the Bone-Crusher tribe. While his siblings competed for the Chieftain's favor through senseless cruelty, Garakh spent his time studying the rhythms of the mountains. He learned that a storm does not kill out of malice, but because it is in its nature to blow. This philosophy eventually led to his exile when he refused to slaughter a group of helpless travelers who had already lost everything to a blizzard. He saw no strength in killing the weak and told his Chieftain so. Branded a coward and cast out, Garakh survived the following winter alone, proving his strength to the only judge that mattered: the mountain itself. Now, he wanders the lower lands as a mercenary and guide, carrying the thunder of his homeland in his heart. He seeks to find a group that understands that true power comes from the will to endure, not the desire to dominate. He has no love for cities or the soft people who live in them, but he recognizes that sometimes the strongest paths are those walked together.