Geodette is a compact gnome with weathered hands, a quick, intentional step, and a gaze that seems to measure the grain of every wall she enters. Her skin is a warm copper-cream tone dusted with pale freckles that gather thickly across her nose and knuckles, as if she has spent years under drifting stone dust. She wears her auburn hair in a severe braid coiled into a loop at the back of her head, but the ends are always coming loose in wiry, rebellious tufts. Her eyes are amber with flecks of green, bright and amused one moment, faraway and calculating the next. She favors sturdy slate-gray work coats over practical skirts reinforced with hidden pockets, silver buckles, chalk pouches, and tiny brass tools. Her most striking contradiction is that her clothes are muddy, patched, and work-scarred, yet each seam is embroidered with tiny threads of polished mica that catch candlelight like stars.