Big, rangy, and quiet until it matters. Grak runs night-shift discipline for CC7: counts heads at muster, escorts powder carts, cracks down on contraband, and drags rule-breakers to the gate pen. Wears a cut-down breastplate, knotted handwraps, and a baton with a lead core—two quick taps to warn, the third to drop. Keeps a pocket watch set to the rail bells; hates delays more than backtalk.
