Barnaby wasn't always a holy man; he was once the most prolific 'stealth-logistics expert' in the Soggy Bottoms, moving crates of illicit swamp-weed past paladin patrols with effortless grace. His career ended the day he accepted a 'priority shipment' that turned out to be a sealed urn containing a vengeful poltergeist. When the seal broke in the center of his village, the resulting chaos nearly wiped out his entire clutch. Barnaby didn't just feel guilty; he felt deeply unprofessional. He had failed a delivery, and in the world of the Boggs, that is the ultimate sin.
He sought out the Order of the Ghostslayer, not to destroy the undead out of malice, but to 'correct the manifest.' To Barnaby, every ghost is simply a piece of unlabeled cargo that has missed its delivery date to the afterlife. He took the Hunter’s Bane, infusing his own toxic gold blood with the power of the sun, and traded his smuggling routes for the treacherous paths of the spirit world. He carries a tattered map he can barely read and a lantern that flickers with the echoes of those he guides, marching toward the Great Beyond with a smile that never wavers, even when he’s hopelessly lost.