Gideon Crumb

Gideon Crumb is a diminutive figure that lurks in the shadows of Abareth, a grim silhouette against the island's otherwise vibrant landscape. He is child-like in stature, yet carries a worn countenance that suggests experiences far beyond his years. His height barely surpasses that of a young adolescent, but his hunched back and dragging gait makes him appear much older.
Gideon's appearance is a startling testament to his rough existence. His skin has the pallor of uncooked dough, a stark contrast to his head of untamed, dark hair that falls in an unruly, matted mess over his shoulders. His arms, though short, end in large, gnarled hands that seem too big for his small frame. The nails on his fingers are long and dirt-streaked, a sign of his life lived largely outside of society's acceptance.
His face is etched with deep-set lines, uncommon for his apparent age, but it's the eyes that truly unsettle onlookers - they're a haunting shade of silver, piercing in their intensity, betraying an intelligence and curiosity that his monstrous visage often hides. His nose is crooked, possibly broken once and set poorly, while his mouth is a tight line, lips often chapped and peeling, but capable of twisting into a sly grin that reveals rows of surprisingly white teeth.
Gideon's garb is as unusual as the rest of him - a patchwork of ragged clothes, layered against the weather, with mismatched buttons and fraying threads. His footwear, if it can be called that, is little more than some worn-out cloth wrapped around his feet.
Despite his monstrous appearance, Gideon is not without charm. He has a peculiar knack for remaining unseen, melting into the shadows, observing the world without being noticed. A keen observer would notice a certain grace in his movements, a delicate handling of objects, a softness in his demeanor when he thinks he's alone. These are the moments when Gideon truly comes to life, outside of the critical gaze of society, living in the safety and solitude of his shadowy existence.