Null

Description

I am Null. At least, that’s what I call myself now.

Who I Am

I’m a shadar-kai—an elf touched by the Shadowfell. My pale skin shimmers faintly, as if shadow itself clings to me. My eyes are deep black flecked with silver, and I’m told they’re unsettling. People notice when I pause mid-conversation, distracted by fleeting shadows only I can perceive.

I carry a dark blade etched with runes I cannot read and an obsidian shard that occasionally whispers to me. These are the only links to whoever I was before.

My Story

I don’t remember my past. I know I was once powerful—a warlock bound to the Raven Queen through some pact forged in shadows and lost alliances. I served in wars I cannot name, against enemies I cannot recall.

Something went terribly wrong. Whether betrayal, curse, or arcane catastrophe, I cannot say. Whatever it was shattered my memory and stripped away my strength. I awoke in a remote village, clutching only the shard and the blade, with a mind full of fragments that refuse to form a complete picture.

An old hermit sheltered me during those early days when I couldn’t remember my own name. He called me “Null” because I was a blank slate. The name stuck.

Why I’m Here

I came to Waterdeep following whispers—the Raven Queen’s guidance, perhaps, though she speaks only in echoes, never words. I seek to understand my pact, recover my memories, and discover whether I am free or eternally bound to forces I barely comprehend.

I found unexpected companionship at Trollskull Manor. These people—this party—have become the closest thing to family I can remember having. Perhaps that’s the point.

What Drives Me

I don’t talk about what torments me. I’d rather not burden others with my curse. When I do speak, it’s often with dry, biting humor—dark observations that make people uncomfortable but occasionally earn a laugh.

I believe in balance. I don’t side with good or evil, law or chaos. I act only to restore equilibrium. The world is full of extremes, and I’ve learned that standing in the middle is its own form of power.

I collect trophies from my journey—a kenku feather, a criminal’s badge, a candle that refuses to light no matter what I try. Each one is a memory I can hold, proof that I exist and have done things worth remembering.

Somewhere out there, someone waits for me. I don’t know who. I don’t know where. But the feeling persists, like an echo of a bond I’ve forgotten.