Baldur's Gate is an interesting place. The wide variety of people there means that no one bats an eye at Ashton's unusual appearance. The immense quantity of people there also means that very few people seem to give half a shit about other individuals, even so soon after a near-apocalyptic crisis. They survived, back to business as usual.

Despite having been trying to pay attention to new arrivals in the tavern, Barcus is caught by surprise when addressed, and he looks up from his work with a dazed blink. "Ye--oh! Hello." Hello indeed! He's met very few genasi, and none that looked like this. The sheen of stone and crystal is a notable first impression.

There's a pause of half a second while he pushes the thought of well that's pretty! to the back of his head, and then he turns and gestures at one of the servers with an apologetic smile before looking back at Ashton. "Half a moment, let me just finish my sentence; order whatever you like, I'll put it on my tab."

That's business, after all! And he bends back over his book, scribbling faster now to get his thought out before it starts being super rude to not be talking to the person at his table. Ashton will get the chance to order a drink as the server breezes by, and when that's done with, the gnome sets his quill down, blows on the ink to dry it, and closes the ledger. "Sorry. If I don't write it down, I'll never remember to do it."

He rises up to lean across the table and offer a handshake. "Yes, I'm Barcus. Ashton, you said?" The man certainly looks the part of a fighter. "I'm, ah, about to undertake a journey westward and the roads are a mess. I need someone who can handle the wilds and the Underdark."

What he doesn't say is he has to be able to trust his companion to a level he's never trusted anyone before. This is him going home, and he can't risk giving the location away to anyone who might use it badly. A genasi is a good start, though. Probably not someone interested in allying with duergar slavers or Lolth-sworn drow.