The pungent mound of ambulatory flesh before you might have once been considered a gnome, but the ravages of time, mutagenic energies, and ritual self-mutilation leave little trace of what once was. A pair of jaundiced eyes gaze blearily at his surroundings, made cloudy with a mixture of both resignation and cataracts. A pinched nose rests at the center of his palsied and drooping face, and beneath it resides an unkempt walrus- handlebar mustache. The last few silvery wisps of hair upon his balding pate stick limply to his clammy scalp. The second and third digits of his left hand seem fused together into a hooked talon, while his right hand includes an additional thumb. Reptilian emaciated right forearm, scabrous and flaking. The remainder of his exposed skin is ribbed with extensive scarring as if a madman has made merry with a cautery iron, searing tally marks into his flesh indelible and unchanging - a testament to some perverse count now finalized. One scar on the palm of his right hand stands out from the rest - a single black stripe. His countenance is the image of all-consuming obsession, his unsettled eyes darkly ringed. He regards passers-by with an evaluating gaze and nibbles at his fingers almost incessantly, their tips chafing from the constant abuse. From within the folds of his garments rises the unwholesome odor of rancid fat and partially digested chyme, his abdomen bloated like a tick after feeding.