Harsk was born as one of many sons of clan Hammerborn, a fairly minor clan in a hold which he sometimes claims lies to the east, sometimes to any of the other directions on the compass. While there is no serious bad blood between him and his relatives, despite the fact that he has committed no crimes against family, clan or people, Harsk wanders the world as an exile, every day (circumstances allowing) taking up a razor to divest himself of that which is seen by most as the defining trait of a male Dwarf: his beard and moustache.
Harsk does not freely speak of his reasons for abandoning the ways of his people, in part because he does not see it as important, and also because he doesn't think it's anyone's business besides his own. The long and short of it is that Harsk is a freethinker, who could not bring himself to live his whole life according to traditions in a changing world. He was less than popular in the hold where he grew up because of his constant questions and objections to a life most Dwarves hold sacred, and he finally decided to try his luck in the world. He travels wherever the wind and his feet - or a mission - take him.
Harsk lives by the blade as a mercenary, but he holds each assignment up to his own criteria before he'll accept it. He is ever curious, respectful of others' choices in life unless they cause sorrow for the many, and ready for a laugh and a song as any other Dwarf. A lack of fondness for ale and a love of new learning, combined with cold skill with the greatsword, make him an odd Dwarf indeed.