Bertcalf the Tall casts no ordinary shadow, but a living and sentient shade brought to life long ago in the follies of his youth. Now parted due to a disagreement about magical practices (his shadow possesses even more flimsy ethics than he), Bertcalf lives in constant fear as the return of his shadow is all but a certainty. Just what devices and dark machinations it has planned remain unknown, but are the sole focus of his tormented ruminations. Whatever it has planned shall be fearsome indeed, for it knows him as well as he once knew his shadow.
From his cluttered tower, he presides over vaults stuffed with enchanted coins, jeweled relics, forgotten artifacts, and countless trinkets whose value is known only to him. Bertcalf insists that he is merely a “careful custodian of historically significant treasures,” though he has been known to turn visitors into frogs for touching so much as a copper piece. His obsession with riches has made him notoriously miserly, and there are few spells he will cast for free when a perfectly good pile of gold could change hands first.
But what good is gold, when it avails nothing against the fear of one's own shadow? That's not a rhetorical question; dear Bertcalf would pay a princely sum to know the answer!