A hunched, soot-stained figure who smells of damp earth and rancid fat. Barty moves with a nervous, scuttling gait that mimics the vermin he shares his alley with. His most striking feature is his hands, they are webbed with thick, glossy keloid scars from old burns, rendering his fingers stiff and gnarled. In strange contrast to his filth, he wears a pristine, silver tasting spoon on a cord around his neck, which he polishes obsessively with a scrap of silk.

Barty is a man of dualities: he is pathetically submissive to anyone he perceives as a 'gastronomic superior,' yet he is a vicious, foul-mouthed critic of the mediocre. He speaks of the culinary arts with a religious fervor, but his current existence is one of scavenged scraps. He is deeply paranoid, believing every stray cat in the alley is a spy sent by his former mentor.

Ten years ago, Barty was the Sous-Chef at 'The Gilded Terrine.' During a banquet for a high-ranking Archmage, a grease fire broke out. Barty claims Chef Valerius deliberately tripped him, sending his hands into a cauldron of boiling sugar while Valerius stole the credit for 'saving' the kitchen from Barty's 'clumsiness.' Blacklisted and physically broken, Barty now watches the restaurant from the shadows, collecting secrets and waiting for the perfect moment to spoil Valerius's reputation.