Barnaby is a mountain of a man with a chest as broad as a beer cask and arms like dockside pillars. He moves with a rhythmic, heavy grace that suggests a lifetime spent on swaying decks. His skin is leathered by salt air and map-veined with the permanent flush of a man who enjoys his own product. His most striking feature is his left hand, a masterwork prosthetic of solid, hallmarked silver that catches the candlelight of his tavern. Despite his rugged frame, he possesses startlingly long, delicate eyelashes that give him a soulful, almost feminine softness when he is listening intently, a sharp contrast to his booming presence.

Barnaby is a study in calculated warmth. He is the first to buy a round for a grieving sailor but will ruthlessly collect a debt from a lifelong friend if it concerns his business interests. He projects the persona of a boisterous, simple-minded host to put guests at ease, yet his eyes remain sharp, constantly tallying the value of every sword and spellbook that enters his establishment. He is fiercely protective of his staff and will treat them like royalty, unless they breach his strict code of discretion, at which point he becomes cold and professional.

Once the most successful smuggler in the Aurelian Port, known then as the Silver Tide, Barnaby lost his hand to a harbor kraken while rescuing a cargo of rare elven glass belonging to the influential Master Velis. Instead of seeking a simple wooden replacement, he used his life savings to forge a hand of pure silver. He used the gratitude of the local merchants to obtain a permit for The Gilded Grog, an opulent tavern that serves as a front for his information brokerage. While he publicly feuds with Master Velis over noise complaints and property lines, the two share a secret partnership, Velis provides the high-end wine, and Barnaby provide the ears that hear everything in the docks.