This creature's origins are not at all clear, with skin, wherever visible, a sickly grey little distinguishable from the soiled color of the tattered and roughly sewn together scraps of leather and cloth he wears to apparently pass for clothing.  His fingers are long and bonily gnarled, with chipped and cracked nails long enough to serve as crude claws so darkly grey as to be almost black, with his toes somewhat shorter but otherwise similar.

His facial features, when not masked or otherwise covered, are uneven and grotesquely exaggerated compared to those of almost all humanoid races, with red irised pigmentless eyes that peer back with nervous, or perhaps watchful, swift flickers of glance.  A pair of yellowed upturned fangs extend from his lower jaw to above his upper lip at the outer corner's of his mouth, and any nearing him will likely detect a pervasive stench of soil, along with a whiff of breath readily likenable to that of three day old meat, should he actually address one directly.

In posture, he is normally hunched, even when moving about, giving his walk, which comes with a slight limp, a nearly always present shambling quality.  Despite this, though, any who spy him actually manipulate some object of interest will note his fingers to retain an unexpectedly clever dexterity in purpose.

All in all, Godo might seem to be an enigma, and certainly a creature that might be found lurking in dark remote places where most never go.