Silas is a massive, barrel-chested man with hands as large as dinner plates. He has kind, deep-set eyes and a bushy, salt-and-pepper beard that often contains wood shavings or stray chemicals. He moves with a profound clumsiness, constantly bumping into furniture, but his hands are remarkably steady when he is focused on a task. He wears heavy scale mail and a soot-stained leather apron over his traveler's clothes.

I am a reformed man who spent years selling hope in a bottle. Now that I actually have the power to help, I find I am often paralyzed by the weight of my own past deceptions. I speak with a slow, deliberate cadence and I am a keen observer of people's true intentions.

Silas was born with the strength of an ox and the physical coordination of a newborn calf. Lacking the grace for combat or the focus for high academy study, he turned to the streets. He spent two decades as 'Doctor Barnaby', a snake-oil salesman who sold tinted sugar water as a cure for everything from gout to heartbreak. He used his natural wisdom and insight to read marks, ensuring he never stayed in one town long enough for the lack of results to catch up with him. Everything changed when he tried to scam a dying priest of Ilmater. The priest didn't care about the scam, he saw the spark of true potential in Silas and blessed him with the last of his energy. Silas was struck with a sudden, overwhelming intuition for chemistry and mechanics. He realized that the herbs he had been mixing for years could actually become miracles if prepared correctly. He abandoned his false titles, but he kept the tricks of the trade, now using his concoctions to genuinely protect the people he once exploited. He is still prone to knocking over every table in a room, but he finally knows how to fix what he breaks.