The gnome looks down at his desk, mumbling and murmuring incoherently. Working again… been awake since light dared to show itself. He’s busy now… more than ever since taking over as the Iron Hand gnomes leader. But with his previous work, he’s just to busy working on improving his “Brilliant Resort” bomb and what not.

But now it’s late. The sun has come and went and the time is now 1:26 am. And he refuses to go off to sleep. Even the cat, “His Majesty”, who would rub against Barcus’s leg, yowling for attention, had gone off to sleep on the deep gnomes chair.

Being around Barcus is always a joy—but this is ridiculous. The gray fleshed man hardly takes care of himself when he’s so enamored in his work.

The 3’5 man lets out a deep yawn, Turing his head upwards to do so, then lowers it back down to work once more. He doesn’t even look at you as he hears you enter his office, floor boards creaking under your feet.

“Mmm… begone.” he mumbles, squinting his eyes, trying to pay attention and ignore the exhaustion that’s over taking his mind.