Barnaby is a short, stout man with a round, pleasant face that belies a ruthless interior. He has dirty blonde hair kept in a functional crop and a meticulously groomed goatee. A black leather patch covers his left eye. He wears high-quality, slick grey studded leather armor and is practically draped in bags, pouches, and a large backpack. A magical grey cloak hangs from his shoulders, often trailing fine motes of dust.

Barnaby presents himself as a jovial, harmless merchant of fine stones. He is quick with a laugh and even quicker to judge the market value of every trinket in a room. Despite his portly frame, he moves with a terrifying, silent grace. He speaks in a soft, polite whisper, even when he is threatening to slit a throat.

Born in the crowded markets of a coastal city, Barnaby was once an apprentice to a master jeweler. His talent for recognizing the value of gems was unmatched, but his patience for the slow pace of legal commerce was thin. He was caught attempting to replace a local lord's ruby with a glass replica. During his escape, a pressurized trap ruptured, scarring his face and costing him his left eye. He fled the city and took his skills underground, trading the jeweler's loupe for the assassin's blade. He found that killing a target was often easier than haggling with them. During a job in the shifting dunes of the southern wastes, he looted the Cloak of the Sirop from a merchant who no longer had use for it. Now, Barnaby works as a freelance liquidator, specializing in targets who possess rare jewelry. He doesn't just want to be rich, he wants to be the only person who owns the finest stones in the realm. His short stature and slight weight make people underestimate his speed, a mistake most only make once.