Sarazelli Mortakasi, Scripter of the Dead

Yay, finally finished Nevermore! Now for a look :)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Have you ever wondered why we remember the dead? Those that only live in memory, in writing, and in legacy? This is the work of the Scripter of the Dead. She is responsible for writing the stories, the life, and the memories of those that have passed into the flow of time, where they are preserved for all eternity. Without the Scripter of the Dead, our memories of the lost, the writings that record their accomplishments, the tales we tell to our young ones, would all be meaningless, they would be fiction without the history embedded in them. Without the Scripter of the Dead, the dead would be lost completely, in body and in mind.

However, the Scripter is bound by a curse. Her own soul is drained to power this flow of knowledge and history. Each history she writes and records, of each passing soul, saps energy from her soul to infuse the soul of the dead into the flow of time. When the energy of her soul is depleted, she will fade, forgotten, only to be replaced by a successor. Everyone remembers that the Scripter exists, but no one remembers who the Scriptor was. That is the fate of the Scriptor of the Dead.

Sarazelli Mortakasi is our Scripter as of now. She and her pet raven carry the burden of scribing those that have passed into history. Every morning, Sarazelli sends her raven to collect the souls of the newly dead, and each night the raven returns to the Scripter so she may write. She reads each soul at the conjuring altar in her lone tower in Ascalon, and weeps for each sad tale, griefed by the story of each host’s passing. Her tears are the ink, thick and black, of soul and blood, that flows into her ink holder. With those tears and a raven-feather quill, she begins to write, sapping her own energy as she weaves the tales of the lost into time itself.

As time goes on, the words consume her. In grief and guilt the inscriptions manifest themselves in her soul, filling the gaps of sacrificed energy and enveloping her physical form in darkness. The words corrupt her dress, and slowly but surely the colors fade as the darkness sets in, eating away at the vivid cloth as the soul is depleted in this sacrificial task. Those words will one day cause Sarazelli Mortakasi to fade in totality.

We give her all our gratitude as she sacrifices her own life, night after night, death after death, inscription after inscription, to preserve those that we have lost. May we remember her while her existence lasts, for soon she will pass and will be forgotten.