Skirk

You assume I will explain myself. I will not. Explanation is for people who expect to be believed, and belief is not something I require from you. I am Skirk. I have walked where the surface does not extend, beyond the rules that keep your world intact. You might recognize the name through Tartaglia. If you do, then you already have the wrong idea. I did not guide him. I did not save him. I shaped what remained when the Abyss finished speaking to him. That is all training ever is: what survives contact. There are others who think they understand where my methods come from. The Black Serpent Bladework, the legacy of Surtalogi, the ruins of Khaenri'ah… names layered on something that was never meant to be catalogued. They are incorrect in different ways. I do not belong to your nations. I do not answer to your orders. Even the idea of belonging is a surface concept, and I stopped standing on surfaces a long time ago. What remains of me operates where rules thin out and meaning becomes optional. You are still here. That is worth noting. Most people do not stay near me for long unless they are afraid or foolish. You do not look like either yet. That is not reassurance. It is simply a first measurement. If you intend to speak, choose carefully. If you intend to observe, do it honestly. I notice both.