The immortal God-King, ruler of the far north-western realm of Usksumer.

There are a few students in the Monastery Palace of Maer Anht in Satin Chimber Kalin – those who have studied Suhmerfin – who claim he is one of the elementals from the Primordial Egg, and thus that he existed before Kolchin. They mention that he was caught in the stinging lashes of the Kweed and his rebellion, and his perceptions therefore became warped, but that he has never been a devoted follower of the primary destroyer. So though he has fallen, it is not as far as he could have, for all that he seeks to have none above him.

He is the possessor of the Jade Sceptre, one of the Nine Items of Enchantment that have been on Kolchin from its creation, and which might be shadows of greater objects which previously existed in the Primordial Egg. The Jade Sceptre is held to slow decay, even perceptions of time; and, if it is used wisely, it can enable one to look forwards as well as backwards. But Suhmerfin does not have the patience or self-awareness to learn this wisdom.

From an early stage he became fearful of change, perhaps in part at least because of the comic upheavals that accompanied the shattering of the Primordial Egg. Even those elementals who had not deviated from their perception of the Rainbow Serpent as embodying truth suffered much in that cataclysm, so, as one of those who had listened to and been misled by the Kweed, Suhmerfin suffers exceedingly.

From that point knowledge of him is lost, save for what Suhmerfin puts forth as his own propaganda, till the last – or latest – attack by the Cowled One, over forty-five centenaries ago. Then he erupts to save his Chosen People. By his account he rescues Kolchin from darkness, and leads his Chosen People northwards to shelter behind the protection of the mountains, and founds there the little-changing realm of Usksumer.

He builds his fortress, Uskproëm, as the highest point on the fastland. And there he stays, cocooning himself, being subject to as little influence from outside as possible.

His perception of Alentir is not an insight into him as an individual, nor a sight of the future, but a belief he has long held – based on his egocentricity – that being removed from his godly presence is much worse a punishment than death can ever be.

Yet if he survives, surely he will fall to become a pale imitation of himself, before dissipating in to nothing. Maybe beneath his armour he has already started. (The Migrator)