Korgath is a mountain of a man with skin the color of wet slate and muscles that look like gnarled oak roots. He moves with a low-slung, predatory hunch that makes him seem smaller than his six-foot-four frame until he stands at full height. His clothing is a chaotic layering of cured owlbear hide and displacer beast fur, stinking of musk and dry blood. A heavy, double-bitted greataxe with deep notches along the blade rests on his shoulder. In stark contrast to his brutal exterior, he wears a necklace of delicate, uncrushed sparrow eggs preserved in clear resin, which bounce gently against his scarred chest. His movements are silent and jarringly efficient.

Korgath is a man of few words and absolute convictions. He is fiercely protective of the 'true' forest but displays a cold indifference to the lives of city-dwellers, whom he views as parasites. While he is terrifyingly violent in combat, he is surprisingly gentle with injured wildlife, often spending hours meticulously cleaning the wounds of a beast he just spent days tracking. He respects strength and survival, yet he holds a secret, bitter hatred for the Golden Wheel syndicate that boarders on a death-wish obsession.

Korgath was once the lead scout for the Golden Wheel mercantile guild, helping them map safe passages through the wilds. His loyalty broke when he discovered the guild's 'Crystal Cargo' was actually refined necrotic slag that blighted the soil to clear path-space. When he attempted to destroy a shipment, the guild elders trapped him in a cellar filled with caustic gas. He survived by breathing through a filter of enchanted moss, which fused with his respiratory system, giving him his 'Steel-Lung' moniker and a permanent raspy cough. Now an outcast, he stalks the Golden Wheel's trade routes, killing the monsters their pollution creates and warning those who unknowingly serve the guild.