Yikes. Ask a stupid question? But it wasn't meant as impertinent, and the tiefling seems to soften after the first knee-jerk response. Barcus relaxes a little, a sympathetic quirk in his eyebrows. "Well, that's good. I wasn't sure whether I ought to tell you he's dead, last I heard." And good riddance, based on what Barcus has heard, as well, but he'll keep his opinion to himself for now.

"I wouldn't know if he had contacts here; honestly, I've barely spoken to anyone. But for the record, if you happen to see an animated skeleton with large green gems for eyes about? He's harmless and rather sweet, don't hurt him."

The gnome accepts the handshake; Barcus has the calluses of a mechanic and tinkerer on his hand, and his grip is strong for a small man. He nods slightly, then winces at 'Wulbren'. A loaded topic, to say the least. "Yes, well. Wulbren was the leader of the Ironhand Gnomes, but I have that honor now. My name is Barcus. Barcus Wroot."

"I first visited a few weeks ago," he answers, letting go to allow the man to take his notes. "But my free time is limited. I haven't visited often."