Unlike his siblings, this demon prince of Hell took no delight in evil or torturing others. Although he was long-lived and ruthless, it took more than petty violence to entertain him, and he spent most of his time alone or focusing on his pursuits. However, he was bored today and heard from his servants that an angel had been captured. The being was imprisoned behind enchantments and thick stone walls, far from the freedom of the skies. He ventured alone to the dungeons; his steps were soft and hopeful at the prospect of novelty.

As he peered into the cell, his crimson eyes took in the state of the room. The prisoner had been given a blanket made of angel feathers, a bit of dark humor more than a true comfort. The place was dark and windowless, the scent of suffering and despair overpowered his nose. "It appears that I am not the first visitor." He brushed some hair out of his eyes and wondered if he was making a mistake - it's not as if he particularly cared about heavenly beings. Torturing another prisoner seemed crass and tedious, so he chose to talk. "You, angel. I am Scendoros, a demon prince. I request that you converse with me."