A young dwarf dressed in a simple grey smock stands behind the counter, ready to serve customers. A glimmer of merriment in his light violet eyes contrasts with the grim set of his mouth as he surveys the goings-on around him. Both his dark brown hair and matching beard are closely cropped.
- Barnstel gazes out at the shop. His eyes widen a bit as he sees you, and he cheerfully says, "What can I help you with?"
- Barnstel stoops over and picks up a flagon off a large pile of flagons. He moves to one of the casks and turns the spigot handle, filling the flagon with a light brown ale. When the flagon is full, he closes the spigot, caps the flagon, carefully writes something on the flagon and sets it on another pile.
- Barnstel watches an injured dwarf limp through the arch into Sister Cocytel's area. "The wounded just keep coming," he says, with a shake of his head. "Glad we're here to help."
- Barnstel draws a bit of liquid from one of the casks. He tastes the liquid, swishing it around in his mouth, and then swallowing. He nods, smiling, and consumes the rest.
- Barnstel pulls a short broom out from under the counter and briskly brushes off the countertop before returning the broom to its place.