Barley Heathertoes

Name: Barley Heathertoes

Race: Man

Occupation: Inn-Cellar Keeper

Age: Early 50s

Region: Bree-land

Description

Barley is a broad-shouldered, middle-aged man with a weather-lined face, a thick beard dusted with ash from the hearth, and a habit of muttering to himself when alone in the dark. He oversees the cellars beneath the Prancing Pony, where kegs, crates, and rumors gather alike. His pipe is always within reach, and he can usually be found dozing in a chair unless something disturbs his peace.

Role in the Story

Barley was the first to alert the Company to the blacksmith’s apprentice, who had been acting oddly and spending coin far too freely in the Pony's common room. While he dismisses most trouble as foolishness, he’s grown uneasy—whispers in the cellar, strange noises from the foundations, and dreams he won’t speak of have all left him jumpier than he admits. He’s a useful source of grounded local insight—and the occasional ominous gut feeling.

Traits

• Gruff but warm once trust is earned
• Strong local memory and ear for gossip
• Superstitious and wary of deep places
• Finds solace in routine and smoke

Quotes

• “I don’t like the sound of the floor creakin’ when no one’s walkin’. Not natural.”
• “Lads spending like that don’t earn it honest. You ask me, he’s in deep with something dark.”
• “You want the truth? Check the cask-room, third barrel on the left. Been whisperin’ to itself, that one.”