He smiles, bittersweet, because that sounds very much like something Wulbren would have said. A mere pleasantry in this case, he assumes, the sort of thing you say when a new acquaintance mentions they've had a bad time with the local government, or their neighbor's dog. Wulbren meant it, though, and for as long as Barcus thought his intent to follow through was non-violent, he enjoyed that rhetoric.

Fortunately, though, Wulbren isn't here, and Barcus is one of only two gnomes in the entire place, as far as he knows, so the details of class and racial struggles in Baldur's Gate do not need to be fully enumerated. "Unlikely while I'm stuck here," he says with a flash of a teasing smile. "But surely they can't keep me forever."

No, he's not remotely the lynchpin of social justice for gnomes, that's a joke. But he is fairly instrumental within his own city. Real modesty at war with his sense of responsibility, he makes a faint, pensive noise as he conjures his answer. "Chief and Master Craftsman of the Ironhand-Gondian Alliance in the city of Baldur's Gate. That's just a title, though. It's an artisan's guild of sorts, cobbled together from two factions of very passionate inventors and artisans that have been in conflict for centuries. Going surprisingly well before I got here; I can only hope they're behaving themselves in my absence."

"As to what I do, I began as a jewel-cutter, but I'm an alchemist and to some extent an artificer, as well. I've also been repairing weapons for Visitors at no cost, so keep that in mind as needed. I'm a little too small to go making longswords and plate armor at a forge alone, but I'm fully capable of repairs and of forging small knives and crossbow bolts."