Karnas is a broad, square-backed half-orc with the deliberate movements of a man who has spent years lifting crates, anchoring doors, and stepping between danger and his livelihood. His skin is a stormy olive-gray marked by old charcoal burns, silver knife scars, and one pale ring around the throat where a noose once bit and failed to finish the job. He wears a crisp apron over a patched black coat, but the apron is tied over a mail shirt polished to a dull shop-window sheen, creating a strange contradiction of merchant and soldier. His left tusk is capped in brass, his right is chipped clean through, and his hands are huge, callused, and surprisingly careful when handling glass, ledgers, or a child’s broken toy. He smells faintly of soot, cedar oil, and the iron tang of coin.