The Demon, Belosh
"Come now, Belosh, it must be you." The great Demon Lord turned to look, at one of the four beings in the Jewel that he feared. Oditio was in his current favorite form, tall and thin with short brown hair and an aqualine nose, wearing a toga made of impossibly fine silk. He smiled, a greasy smile that still oozed charm, and went on, "You are the most powerful of all Demons, and by doing this, you can be unleashed on the Terrene. You will be trapped in the coin, of course, but the owner of the coin will be your puppet. You will rule the mortal plane for as long as you choose."
Belosh knew that the Devil was manipulating him, knew that He was lying, but also knew that he would submit. He would submit, not just because he must, but because he certainly wouldn't allow any of the other demons crush the mortal plane beneath his feet. Would he rule, as the Devil promised? He didn't know. But it would burn, by his hand.
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