An older dwarf who had seen his days in battle for sure, judging by the knicks, cuts and more serious looking scars that mar what of his flesh can be seen. Despite the less than appealing appearance, Korgamar is a rather happy old man, if at time surly and cranky, as old folks some times are. All too often he smelled of cheap ale, regardless of whom made it. 'A man would piss it all out the same anyhow,' he would commonly say.

In his older age, Korgamar lacks the age needed to be of any use to a woman, even if one did find him appealing in that way. That didn't mean he wouldn't try to cop a feel or enjoy the company of a lovely woman. He wasn't picky. He could afford the time it took to be so any more.

At his left hip and on his back are a warhammer and a large tower shield. The metal seemed to be quite battle worn, showing the marks of many mighty swings. They appeared to be mostly only relics though, of an old man's glory days and used only for prop in recanting of great tales of triumph.