Barnaby is a man who looks like he was carved out of driftwood and left in the sun too long. His skin is a map of deep wrinkles and sunspots, smelling perpetually of stale ale and old tobacco. His most striking feature is his right leg, which is replaced from the knee down by a tapering spike of polished narwhal bone, yellowed with age and intricately carved with shifting nautical charts. He moves with a rhythmic thumping gait that echoes on the wooden floorboards of The Barnacle's Grip. Despite his disheveled, salt-stained naval coat, his left eye remains startlingly clear and cerulean, possessing a sharp, piercing quality that contradicts his otherwise weary and intoxicated demeanor.