Titivilus

Upon the backs of all beholden to him, Titivilus scratches the record of Hell with long claws. His is a slender form, almost like a human man stretched well beyond his typical proportions, with skin the color of the deep purples of a sunset. Nine hands, each with nine fingers, transcribe every word spoken within the rings in illustrious longhand and great detail, down to the tones and rhythms. Steel is a crude tool for change; the Scrivening Count would crumble empires with but a whisper. A spear and shield may break a body, but lies, propaganda, rhetoric, and truth manipulate the hearts and minds that drive the hands.