Krag is a massive Half-Orc standing seven feet tall. He has weathered green-grey skin, a thick black beard, and small, blunt tusks. His chest is covered in tattoos of jagged lightning. He wears a mantle of wolf fur and simple leather leggings.

I place no stock in wealthy or well-mannered folk. Money and manners won't save you from a hungry owlbear. I am most at home when under the open sky and I treat my greataxe with more respect than I treat kings.

Krag was born to a wandering tribe that lived within the shadow of the Ash-Peaks. His childhood was defined by the harsh laws of the mountains, where the wind bites harder than any blade. His father was an orcish warrior and his mother was a human tracker, but Krag never felt he truly belonged to either bloodline. He was too contemplative for the war-bands and too fierce for the human villages. He eventually chose a life of solitude, wandering the high ridges where only the giant eagles dare to nest. The peace of his isolation was shattered when a group of unscrupulous explorers desecrated the ancient burial mounds of his ancestors. Driven by a fury he could not name, Krag descended from the peaks and drove the intruders out with nothing but a rusted axe and his bare hands. He realized then that the wild places of the world required a guardian. He now travels through the lowlands, his eyes fixed on the horizon, seeking those who would dare threaten the sanctity of the earth. His path is lonely, but he carries the weight of the mountain in his every step.