I've traveled the world exploring its dark recesses; treading those trails lost to the eyes of man, crawling the caverns of the earth and clambering over stones worn smooth by time so deep they've forgotten human touch, and sifted the sands of the most remote deserts uncovering secrets in temples that were old when the bones of this world were formed. Spending countless hours pouring over ancient and molding hidden manuscripts. Hefting tomes of forgotten knowledge written by unknowable hands somewhere out there in the depths of time.
My wanderings have exacted a heavy toll. The physical damage is obvious. What is not obvious, what remains hidden is the indelible mark left on the mind. Knowledge of those Elder and Outer Gods, the Old Ones and the Deep... the knowledge and their touch. Dark whispers run circles threatening to collapse my psyche, robbing me of sleep and at times my very sanity.