Kormac is a barrel-chested dwarf with graying dark hair and a beard that looks like it has been singed by lightning more than once. His skin is tanned and marked by old shrapnel scars. He wears blackened iron plate armor that hums with a faint static charge when he is angry. His eyes are the color of a stormy sky, sharp and tired.

Kormac is a man of few words, and most of them are dry or cynical. He has seen enough death to last ten lifetimes and has no patience for glory-seekers or idealistic youths. Despite his gruff exterior and the brutal work he does for the mob, he has a strict internal code. He never targets civilians and shows a strange, silent softness toward children and orphans.

Kormac was once a proud sergeant of the Ironstorm Vanguard, a legendary dwarven unit that defended the mountain passes using rune-enhanced weaponry. During the Great Collapse, his entire regiment was annihilated by a tide of monsters. Kormac was the sole survivor, found days later clutching a shattered standard. With no home to return to and no kin left, he wandered the surface world as a broken blade, eventually falling into the employ of urban crime lords who valued his silence and his lethality. Over the years, the ancestral storm magic dormant in his bloodline has begun to manifest, surfacing in moments of high tension or violence. He now works for a powerful mob boss as a high-tier enforcer, taking the jobs that require absolute reliability. He hates the work, yet it is the only thing that reminds him of the structure of the army. Lately, he has started to wonder if he can find a new 'clan' among the outcasts and rogues of the city, hoping for a reason to put down his hammer for something other than a paycheck.