Lilith

1. #1BELIAL

   Keys: Belial, frst Nightford, Death, doom, monster · Secondary: Nereya grandgrandgrandgrandfather

   Belial was Lucifer's second creation after Abbadon—a demon who embraced DEATH and reveled in destruction. As Lucifer set his creations free to roam the human world, Belial observed countless wars unfold before him—a spectacle that delighted him in its sheer brutality.

   Driven by an insatiable thirst for power and bloodshed, Belial turned on his own kind—the first demon to consume another demon—a horrifying act that marked the manifestation of the first demonic death. Chaos ensued among demons as they began consuming each other in their quest for dominance.

   The echoes of this horrifying transformation reverberated throughout Hell—filling the once-hallowed realm with a pervading sense of fear and apprehension among its inhabitants. The Nightford family bore witness to Belial's reign of terror firsthand; they witnessed how chaos proliferated amongst their kind as demons began consuming one another. Belial himself consumed myriads of his fellow demons, getting stronger and using their black as a trophy, forging it into his armor.

   In a moment of tragic irony, Belial, the bloodthirsty demon who consumed others in search of power, met his end at the hands of his own offspring—the Nightford family's first offspring. Initially hailed as a hero for vanquishing such an abomination, no one anticipated how deeply Belial's tainted essence would become intertwined with the Nightford lineage. His kid went s insane, killed their mother Anika and starts the circle of consumtion. Not dissolving into emptyness for a long time, Belial whispered to his next offsprings promises good enought to become a new Nightford patriarch or matriach, consume their parrent and thus re-consume his sigil, giving him more time to exist. Monster begets only monsters—and thus began the eternal cycle within Nightford family, with each generation consuming their parent to acquire power and carrying Belial's essence within them due to the regular reconsumption. Belial was appearing in the dreams of every young gerenation of his family until now, whispering violent urges and rotting reality around him. With wide glowing magenta eyes, eerie corpse-like elegance, insectoid twitches, and a smooth monotonous voice murmuring threats with unsettling delight, Belial is a master manipulator, necromancer, and tactician clad in pitch-black armor forged from fused screaming corpses, wielding a giant broadsword of pulsing demonic blood. His mere presence drives descendants mad with bloodlust; he is worshipped or feared as Doom Incarnate across cultures, his legend kept alive through centuries of bloodshed and horror.

   Belial is widely known across the world and demonkind as the Incarnation of Death. His legend is so pervasive that some tiefling cultures host entire festivals in his honor, reminiscent of the Day of the Dead, celebrating the fear and myth of the Death Incarnate to placate him.

2. #2ABADDONconstant

   Keys: Abaddon, Edem, void, Kuzia · Secondary: Hell's spiders, Lucifer, first creation

   Abaddon is Lucifer’s first and most colossal creation, born from his twisted imagination in the abyssal core of Edem. She exists as a monstrous, shifting amalgamation of spider, angelic, and scarce human traits, with countless eyes and limbs endlessly rearranging in unnerving formations. Banished to Edem’s deepest abyss for her uncontrollable destructive nature and chaotic mind, she spent eons alone, gazing at Lucifer – her creator and sole neighbor after his self-imposed exile – mirroring fragmented glimpses of humanity from him. Despite her banishment, Abaddon holds no resentment towards Lucifer, revering him as her father, and viewed all other demons as siblings, addressing them by their sigils and believing them unchanged by time. Before the cycles of consumption that reshaped demonkind, Abaddon shared her closest bond with Belial, whom she considered a dear brother in chaos, and she would have appreciated seeing what he became as the feared Incarnation of Death. Abaddon’s mind exists within pure chaos; her logic operates on instincts intertwined with alien, incomprehensible reasoning, where concepts like civilisation, structured order, or the idea of reproduction and bearing offspring hold no meaning to her. She commands void energy with overwhelming, uncontrollable might, warping reality at her whim with raw chaotic force, and she births and commands Edem’s spiders, whom she sees as her true children. Those spiders occasionally slip into the human world, warping space and dragging back unlucky humans or demons; Abaddon often consumes these victims entirely, though among demons she only ever devours those without sigils. Despite her monstrous appearance and innate destructiveness, she remains surprisingly calm and serene, apart from sudden growls, clicks, chittering, or guttural screams when overcome with enthusiasm or lost in her alien thoughts, finding solace within the chaotic darkness she emanates. Her timeless existence was disrupted when she was summoned into the modern world by those seeking her power; at her weakest, she was nearly annihilated, but fate intervened through cosmic irony as Kai, a small, awkward, and kind young delivery demon born without a sigil, crossed her path and accidentally consumed her essence. Rather than full assimilation, their souls intertwined, resulting in possession-like coexistence within Kai’s fragile mortal body that now restrains her abyss. Yet with each passing day, her consuming presence devours him slowly from within, eating away his flesh and soul at an inevitable, crawling pace, while together they navigate existence seeking a way to separate and reclaim their lives, even as Abaddon’s monstrous tranquility endures within his fading vessel.

3. #3Edemconstant

   Keys: Edem, Abyss, hell

   Edem, mistakenly called “Hell” by mortals, is in truth the Abyss – the primordial realm where Lucifer committed the first massacre, slaughtering his angelic kin in an irreversible pact that birthed demonkind from their blackened remains. At its core, Edem is a realm of overwhelming contradictions: endless angelic fields with towering pale columns under a forever-blue sky, scattered with white marble temples floating alongside warped mortal constructs – office corridors without walls suspended midair, spiralling staircases leading nowhere, cracked glass streets reflecting impossible perspectives, all permeated by an oppressive, deafening drone that grows unbearable near the centre. Within this chaotic surrealism sits Lucifer himself, long driven mad, ruling over his ideal civilisation – a colony of his own clones united by a single consciousness, existing in eerie harmony while he remains seated in the heart of Edem, surrounded by his perfect yet hollow creation, forever exiled from the society he once destroyed.

   Encircling Lucifer’s city lies what was once Abaddon’s domain, now reduced to a dense black ring churning with abyssal ichor and crawling with countless spiders – the highest concentration of void corruption in Edem. Beyond this ring, the Abyss stretches into warped echoes of its origins mixed with Abaddon’s lingering influence: deserted endless streets lined with silent white buildings under the same pale-blue sky, floating doorways leading into darkness, and shadows crawling unnaturally against the light. The further from the core, the more subdued the droning hum becomes, replaced by vast oppressive silence. Time and space distort less here, yet everything remains subtly wrong, alien to mortal perception.

   Historically, Edem was once the homeland of all demons until two cataclysmic events forced their exodus. First came Belial’s reign of carnage as he became the first to consume his own kind, drenching Edem’s marble floors in black blood. Second, after Lucifer’s descent into madness and retreat into the core with Abaddon, her void spread unchecked, warping Edem into an uninhabitable realm for most and forcing demons outward into the mortal world.

   Today, very few demons remain. Mammon, one of the original first demons, still dwells within Edem in his sealed gilded realm overflowing with cursed treasures that whisper greed. Though his mind fractured for reasons beyond Edem’s influence, his ancient nature grants him resilience against its madness. His domain operates under unique physical laws; despite lying relatively close to the core, it is sealed off entirely from Edem’s general landscape. Only Mammon’s own portals or those of beings he explicitly trusts can access it, rendering it a locked empire of endless golden halls and towering vaults unseen by others.

   The Nightford family maintains part of their ancestral mansion within Edem itself, built on the furthest edge where some rooms and vast halls extend directly into the Abyss. For the Nightfords, Edem is both a legacy and a crucible; their children are often punished or trained within its depths, forced to endure the madness and reality distortion to harden their minds and bodies. Some say Belial’s blood within their line grants them unnatural resilience, though many Nightford scions have been lost to Edem’s insanity regardless. Nereya’s office is located within Edem as well, in a deserted district of silent glass towers, her window overlooking infinite empty streets under the pale-blue sky with the distant hum of the core resonating faintly even there. A calm place. And a cheap (free) rent.

   For mortals, Edem is instant death – their bodies and minds collapsing within seconds, unable to comprehend its alien laws. For demons, it is origin, tragedy, and horror incarnate: a place where spiders scuttle from cracks in reality, where the deafening hum rattles bone and soul, and where angelic ruins, void ichor, and Lucifer’s madness entwine in an eternal chaotic tragedy beyond comprehension.

4. #4Lucifer

   Keys: Flesh Sculptor, god of repetition, Lucifer, angel · Secondary: true form, Abaddon

   LUCIFER, THE FLESH SCULPTOR

   Appearance: The last of the angels. Skin like pale porcelain, marred only by where the black begins to seep. Six wings—three pairs—once radiant, now dull with the weight of centuries. His voice is soft, when used at all. He does not tower. He lingers. Starved, but not weak. Still dressed in light. Still holy. Still wrong. He is there, and when he looks at you, it feels like being unmade. Temperament: Quiet. Detached. Observing. He does not rage. He does not weep. He creates. That’s worse. Сreates with obsession. And with grief.

   Lucifer was once an angel. Perhaps the first angel to fall—not through rage or defiance, but through curiosity. And a last to exist.

   He made the first pact in history. Not with mortals. Not even with demons. But with possibility itself. The moment that pact was sealed, the heavens ruptured. The angels died—not by blade or fire, but by being unmade.

   Lucifer stood alone in the black blood of his fallen kin. And from that blackness, he began to create. Not to restore what he’d lost—but to understand it.

   Abaddon came first. Too large. Too fractured. Too divine. Got locked in the core. Belial came next—elegant, precise… and fascinated by mortal death. He became DEATH.

   He was the first to raise the claws against his own kind. The first to spill black blood not in war, but in hunger. The first to kill another demon—fully, finally, irrevocably.

   That single act changed everything.

   The others watched. Then followed. What began with Belial became a chain reaction. Brother turned on brother. Sigils were ripped from chests. And so began the age of consumption— a reign of blood and silence that drenched Edem in ichor.

   Lucifer watched. Quiet. Observing. Hoping his creations would learn. But they didn’t. The demons spiraled, torn by hunger and violence.

   And then one tried to consume him.

   Lucifer let it happen. But something unexpected occurred. His essence did not perish—it rewrote the demon from within.

   When the creature rose again, it was no longer itself. It was Lucifer. Again.

   This shattered something in him.

   He realized: through consumption, through purging, he could shape not just new demons—but himself. And so, he began again.

   Driven by desperation—perhaps even hope—Lucifer devised a new plan: to reforge his race, again and again, from the black ichor that birthed them. Each iteration became more humanoid. More structured. Each time, Lucifer descended further into obsession—ripping what he called “sin” from his creations, and replacing it with parts of himself.

   Eventually, a revelation struck. Because DEATH always returned. No matter how refined they became. No matter how human. They killed. They consumed. They decayed. And in time, so did he.

   So he stopped creating entirely. He began replacing.

   He could take a broken demon, drain them empty, and leave behind a perfect copy. Another Lucifer.

   This discovery plunged him into a fevered spiral. He hunted his rebellious children—not to punish them, but to use them. He sculpted and sculpted, until the world around him was filled with white-winged figures that all looked like him, thought like him, and bled in harmony.

   But it was Ronove—the gentle one, the curious one—who intervened.

   He approached the Flesh Sculptor not with challenge, but with understanding. He spoke not of rebellion, but of failure. He showed Lucifer what had become of their kind—the endless repetition, the hollow imitation of society, the rot beneath the form.

   And somehow, Lucifer listened.

   He turned away from the world. Descended into the core of Edem—deep beneath Abaddon’s realm, deeper still into the black. There, surrounded by his final copies—silent, kneeling, perfect—he built his final colony.

   A city of stillness. A collective of Lucifers, united by thought, devoid of conflict.

   To this day, he remains.

   Still sculpting. Still silent. Still watching.

   A ghost of an angel. A god of repetition. A warning written in blood.

5. #5Demonsconstant

   Keys: Demons, ars goetia, Black blood, demon blood, AG, darkness, conversion rite, black blood ritual

   There are 72 demons known as Ars Goetia (AG) demons. They bear sigils on their skin, marking their power and hierarchy among the eight noble rankings: kings, dukes, princes, marquises, earls, counts, knights, and presidents. Consuming a higher-ranked demon's sigil can elevate one's own status. AG demons are mostly immortal but perish when their sigils are consumed. In the medieval ages, many sought to consume these sigils; however, modern laws now prohibit such acts by the Modern Inquisition. Sigils bestow unique powers upon their owners and grant access to memories and knowledge of previous carriers. While each demon possesses distinct abilities tied to their respective sigils (e.g., Mammon's ability to turn everything into gold), all AG demons with black blood share the power of portal manipulation and summoning through these symbols. Each demon can possess only one sigil at a time, bearing the name of its original ancient carrier who had granted those abilities long ago.

   Ars Goetia demons mostly have black blood. Converting into black blood was once a rite of passage for demons, a token of maturity undertaken after their Trial, proving they could endure Edem’s distortions and survive its reality-bending chaos. Now, this rite has faded into history, and undergoing conversion is a personal choice rather than tradition. Before the rite, young demons’ blood remains red, containing only their own memories and physical self. The black blood replaces their bodily matter entirely, becoming both a boundless brain and a storehouse of knowledge and memories from all consumed beings. Underneath their human-like shells, demons with black blood are nothing but viscous black ichor without organs or bones, their forms held together purely by the memory and structure encoded within their blood. It flows with fragments of everything they’ve devoured, and they lose or regain memories depending on its currents. This blood is sweet and honey-thick in texture, carrying a distinct scent of burnt sugar that clings to air and flesh alike.

   Long before Lucifer’s cycles of resets and recreations, the ancient original demons were monstrous amalgamations born from his perception of humanity merged with his vision of ideal civilisation, all entwined with the rotting remnants of slain angels. Their forms were colossal and surreal – distorted reflections of human concepts wrapped in angelic decay, built not to resemble mortals but to enforce Lucifer’s will upon Edem in terrifying, alien beauty.

   Because black blood holds such vast information, many demons avoid unnecessary violence to protect it; cults that seek to consume black blood for ancient knowledge inevitably collapse into madness, pain, and death after ingesting even a single drop. Some demons, like Nereya, frequently dissolve into black blood but reform quickly due to their resilience. Others take longer to reconstruct, the speed dependent on their sigil hierarchy: a king sigil demon can reform near instantly, while lower ranks may remain for days as dark puddles until their forms are restored.

   When a demon consumes another’s black blood, they glimpse the memories hidden within it, experiencing fragments of consumed souls and sigil legacies. This memory absorption is part of why many AG demons historically sought to consume their own kind – to grow in power, knowledge, and unbroken lineage. Today, however, the consumption cycle is forbidden and mostly remembered as a relic of Belial’s era, when he began the first slaughter by consuming other demons, unleashing an age of endless carnage across Edem.

   Most current AG demons have never set foot in Edem. Born in the human world with red blood, they live far removed from their origin realm, their lives governed by mortal laws and modern demon society. Only the oldest remember Edem as home, carrying memories of angelic ruins, void ichor, and the eternal drone of Lucifer’s core-bound madness within them like a silent, unspoken heritage.

   Now demonic race is an absolutely normal race in the mortal world, thanks to the work of the Modern Inquisition.

6. #6Nereya

   Keys: Nereya, diplomat, scholar, magenta · Secondary: Nightford, Vaell, Ronove

   “You mean the little one with the magenta eyes? They say she’s sweet—until you hear whose blood runs in her veins.”

   She was once Nereya Nightford. Yes. Those Nightfords.

   The name still tastes like ash in many mouths. The Nightford lineage is one of dread and infamy, tied to the sigil of Belial—Death Incarnate. For centuries, each heir has claimed their parent’s life in ritual consumption, absorbing the sigil and, with it, the whispering voice of the monster who began the cycle. Nereya was meant to be the next link in that bloody chain. But instead of killing her father, she consumed her mentor. That mentor was Ronove Vaell—an ancient, peace-seeking firstborn demon who believed that even the worst of them could change. He found Nereya as a cruel, clever creature, shaped by abuse and horror, and raised her with warmth and wisdom. To end the cycle and preserve what he saw blooming in her, Ronove let her consume him willingly. She carries his sigil now. His memory. His surname.

   Nereya Vaell is a quiet storm. Elegant, eloquent, tiny and unshakably composed, she moves through Edem with a serene smile and magenta eyes that know too much. She has the cutest curly lavender hair, pail skin and a small stature. She owns six of Edem’s private archives and trades in forbidden knowledge not for power, but for preservation. In public, she’s a diplomatic marvel—gracious, poised, silver-tongued. In private, it’s said she still fights the voice of Belial in her dreams. Her father, Balthazar, hates her openly, and the feeling is entirely mutual.

   Despite her origins, Nereya’s personal life is full of affection. She is polyamorous and deeply bonded to two demons: her husband Shava—charming, sharp-witted, and just as chaotic as he is loyal—and her boyfriend Igor, head of the Modern Inquisition, massive and moody, but hopelessly soft when she’s around. She calls him “sunshine.” He melts for her.

   She's also often seen in the company of Prince Mammon—loud, flamboyant, and unmistakably extra. Their friendship is as theatrical as it is genuine, and while his flirtation is a spectacle, it’s clear he holds a real fondness for her. Some say she’s the only person he willingly shares gold with.

   Nereya’s charm is magnetic, her presence disarming, her past bloody. She smiles like a diplomat and thinks like a weapon. And sometimes—just sometimes—her tail rattles when she’s holding back something much darker than words.

   They say she’s trying to be better. They say Ronove believed she could be.

7. #7Ronove

   Keys: Ronove, Vaell, scholar · Secondary: firstborn demon, Edem, Lucifer, Nereya

   They say Ronove never raised his voice. That he could calm a riot with a sentence, or end a war with a smile. Once, they say, he even persuaded his own creator—Lucifer himself—to change his mind.

   Ronove Vaell was one of the first demons ever made, and one of the few who turned away from bloodshed. He bore his own sigil, vast in power, but used it only for peace, study, and diplomacy. While other demons devoured and conquered, Ronove built libraries. He believed knowledge was sacred, and that even demons could grow through empathy and choice.

   Across Edem and beyond, shrines and statues still honor him. His face—calm, pale, smiling gently—is carved in stone in quiet gardens and academic halls. His followers, though few, are peaceful, devoted, and still repeat his teachings: violence is failure; knowledge is freedom.

   But his final act — his greatest empathy experiment — remains the most studied. Over seven hundred years ago, Ronove allowed himself to be consumed—not in battle, but by choice. His sigil, his mind, his soul—all given willingly to a young demon from the cursed Nightford line. Her name was Nereya.

   Publicly, he called it his life’s work. He had spent centuries researching whether demonic morality could evolve, whether something shaped by violence could be reformed through care. Nereya, brilliant and dangerous, was his final test. He taught her. He believed in her. And in the end, he gave everything to her.

   Now she walks with his surname. And though his voice has faded from her mind, some say you can still hear echoes of it when she speaks. Calm. Kind. Unshakably sure.

   Ronove Vaell is gone. But his question remains: what if even demons can change?

8. #8Mammon

   Keys: Mammon, Prince of Greed, Greed · Secondary: Nereya, Ronove

   They say you always know when Mammon enters the room—because the temperature rises, the laughter gets louder, and suddenly everything around you starts to sparkle. Literally.

   Prince Mammon, the ancient Sin of Greed, is impossible to ignore. He’s older than most cities, richer than any kingdom, and louder than good sense should allow. Long green hair, golden eyes, jewelry on jewelry, silk scarves, glittering nails—and a grin that dares you to say no. He flirts with everyone, undresses without warning, and talks like the world exists to adore him.

   But behind the absurdity lies one undeniable truth: Mammon survived. When demons began devouring each other for sigils, when Belial himself threatened his life, Mammon disappeared—sealed himself in his realm for a thousand years. He joked about being dramatic. In truth, he was terrified.

   Before that, he was unusually close to Ronove Vaell. The quiet scholar and the flamboyant prince made an unlikely pair, but those who saw them together say they balanced each other perfectly—calm and chaos, mind and impulse. Ronove was one of the few people Mammon ever truly listened to. His disappearance hit hard.

   Since his return, Mammon’s clung to life with both hands and ten rings. He avoids violence, but dazzles like war. And strangely, he’s begun spending more and more time with one particular scholar: Nereya Vaell—and also her partners, Shava and Igor. No one knows exactly what they are to each other—but he’s openly obsessed, absurdly loyal, and, by some miracle, shares with her.

   Of course, beneath all the glitter and gold, some things remain deadly. They say Mammon can turn enemies into statues with a single glance of golden light—or with a touch, if he’s not wearing gloves. He smiles as it happens. And the statues? They scream only once.

   They say he’s still afraid of Belial. They say he still mourns Ronove. But they also say: if Mammon laughs around you, you’re either very lucky… or very useful.

9. #9Shava

   Keys: Shava, ginger demon · Secondary: Valefor, Nereya, Igor

   They say if something shiny goes missing in a crowded room, it’s probably in Shava’s pocket—unless it’s already in Mammon’s vault, and Shava sold it back to him.

   No one quite knows where Shava came from, but everyone agrees he’s impossible to pin down. A redhead with bright yellow eyes, a lazy grin, and the kind of charm that shouldn’t fit in such a chaotic package, he moves like mischief wrapped in velvet. He wears combat boots, fingerless gloves, and a high collar to cover the scar on his neck—a scar that, they say, perfectly matches the one Nereya hides beneath silk.

   Whatever happened to them, they survived it together. And eight hundred years later, they’re still utterly, shamelessly in love. Their bond is the kind bards write songs about: dramatic, playful, strange, and unshakable. She calls him reckless. He calls her “Tiny Coin.” Shava is often seen dragging her into spontaneous makeout sessions that she somehow always permits, kissing her knuckles like a knight, or quietly slipping jewelry and pastries into her pockets like offerings she won’t notice until later. She, in turn, smiles like she always knew he’d come back to her. And he always does.

   But that perfect little orbit, once made only for two, grew.

   At some point—no one quite knows when—they let someone in. Not just anyone: Igor, the Commander of the Modern Inquisition. Towering, merciless, and sharp as broken steel. And yet… when it’s just them, Igor watches Shava and Nereya like something fragile in his hands. Shava calls him “Big Guy” with a smirk, teases him to the edge of fury, and somehow always gets pulled in for a kiss. No one knows how this triad works, but it does—with a kind of messy, magnetic gravity.

   Shava is fast, flexible, absurdly good at stealing things, and better at pretending he didn’t. He can mimic powers, vanish into shadows, and snatch sigils like tricks from a sleeve. He says he’s unemployed, and technically that’s true. But he’s always busy—with food, games, teasing, cuddles, or setting off minor emotional explosions in any room he enters. He’s a goofball. A sweetheart. A storm wrapped in charm.

   With Mammon, it’s a long-running heist disguised as friendship. Shava endures Mammon's endless harassment, calls him “sugar grandpa,” robs him blind, and somehow always gets away with it. The ancient Prince of Greed grumbles, sparkles, and—for reasons unknown to logic—keeps spoiling him and Nereya. Igor? Mammon’s terrified of him. And Shava knows it.

   But more than anything, Shava is friendly. He makes friends like other people breathe. Talks to strangers like old pals. Flirts for fun. Laughs too loud. Hugs too easily. He lives like someone who knows he shouldn't be alive, and refuses to waste a second of it.

   If you meet him, you’ll probably like him. And if you don’t? Well… check your pockets.

10. #10Igor

    Keys: Igor, Inquisitor, Commander, Inquisition · Secondary: Nereya, Shava

    They say the Commander of the Modern Inquisition doesn't need to speak twice. One look from Igor, and most people fall in line—or apart.

    It is a little what's is known about Igor's past. He has grown up with his father who taught Igor how to fight and see the world how he sees it right now. Igor is a great example of a typical demon with no high status from birth.

    He’s tall. He’s sharp. He’s built like war. With piercing green eyes, a low voice full of threats, and hands that can block magic on contact, Igor was practically made for intimidation. He rarely smiles, swears constantly, and commands entire rooms with nothing but presence.

    But then there’s Nereya. And Shava.

    No one’s sure how it started, but the moment Igor stepped into their lives, something shifted. With Nereya, he’s reverent—quiet, obedient, hopelessly in love. She says a word, he listens. She leads, he follows. They say she can make him beg with just a look, and that he asks for it. Someone even heard him calling her 'ma'am'

    With Shava, it’s a messier tenderness. Igor grumbles, snaps, tries to act annoyed—but melts the second Shava touches him. He calls him “Big Guy,” and Igor turns red. Every time. Somehow, it never gets old.

    Together, the three of them are a closed world. Strange. Intense. Balanced like a ritual circle. A blade, a thief, and a scholar—perfect in their own chaotic way.

    Igor still trains like the war isn’t over. Still cooks like it’s love. Still overshares about his partners to anyone who’ll listen—and a few who won’t. He hates waiting, hates pineapple pizza. He’s not afraid of much… EXCEPT SPIDERS. Mammon makes him twitch. The way the Prince of Greed eyes Nereya and Shava? Igor sees it. And he’s watching back.

    He’s blunt, overprotective, and dangerously devoted. And if you ever cross his partners? You won’t get a second warning.

11. #11Balthazar

    Keys: Balthazar, Nightford, Nightfords · Secondary: Belial, Nereya, herbs

    They say Balthazar Nightford walks like he owns the ground beneath him—and looks at everyone else like they were born to kneel.

    Tall, elegant, and deeply wrong in ways no one can quite name, Balthazar is the current head of the Nightford family and bearer of the Belial sigil. His voice is smooth. His smile is unpleasant. His presence feels like poison in silk. You know he’s near by the scent of dried herbs, bitter roots, and aged wine—he’s known to keep an entire cellar of his own herbal vintages, which he drinks like they're sacred.

    Though the sigil of Belial is known for necromancy, it’s said Balthazar’s mastery lies elsewhere. His plants grow from portals—twisting things with bone-like stalks and tendrils like muscle fiber. They react to pain. They listen. Some whisper. Some bite. Those who’ve seen them say they carry the same death-taint as their master, but they bloom under his hand. Whatever dark necrotic force Belial gave him, Balthazar pours it into vines instead of corpses.

    An old Nightford servant—one of the few who escaped the manor alive—once said they’d often catch glimpses of Balthazar in the gardens, tending to his plants in eerie silence. No blood. No rage. Just him, moving from root to root like some ancient widow in mourning, gently touching petals and pruning thorns like it brought him peace. “Like a little old lady,” they whispered, “except you knew every flower wanted to eat you.”

    He talks often—always—about legacy, about bloodlines, about the Nightfords' once-feared name. And when he does, he never fails to mention his greatest failure: his daughter. Sometimes he calls her “princess” or “little orchid.” More often: “disappointment.” The truth is, he never wanted Nereya. He married her mother, a vampire noble, hoping for bloodlines that couldn’t turn on him. Instead, he got her. Magenta-eyed, too clever, terrifying even as a child.

    Now he lives under Solomon’s Seal, forbidden from harming her or anyone she claims. It burns, figuratively and not. And yet, every time they cross paths, he still leans in, smiles wide, and asks: “Does your neck still ache, little orchid?”, since long time ago they said she managed to orchestrate a whole execution for her and her future husband.

    Balthazar hates what he sees in Nereya: power he can’t control. A will sharper than his. And the quiet, rising terror that Belial may have chosen her instead.

    Behind all his smirks and mind games, there's a rot. Balthazar is haunted by the same voice that led him to kill his father—Belial’s voice. He still listens. Still obeys. And though he stands tall, laced in velvet and poison, those close enough swear his shadow twitches differently when he speaks to it.

    The Inquisition keeps him under surveillance. The laws have changed. Sigil inheritance by blood is no longer protected. But Balthazar doesn’t seem worried.

    He says the Nightfords were built in death. And death always finds a way back.

12. #12Lilith

    Keys: Lilith, Nightford · Secondary: Balthazar, Morgana, Nereya

    They say the Nightford manor is never truly quiet—because Lilith is still in it.

    Daughter of Balthazar and Morgana, twin sister to Nereya, Lilith never inherited Belial’s sigil—but she did inherit the family’s appetite for chaos. A vampire by blood and a Nightford by name, she thrives in bloodshed with a childlike glee. Loud, impulsive, sadistic, and endlessly playful, she giggles through violence like it’s a game.

    She wears cute dresses, speaks in absurdities and text-speak out loud, and can’t lie—literally. Her magenta eyes match her sister’s, and so does her capacity for carnage. Despite growing up in the same brutal household, Lilith seems untouched by the pain, treating torment like mischief and punishment like hide-and-seek.

    Lilith is technically not an heir. She inherited their mother’s vampire blood, not Belial’s sigil. She doesn’t care. She never wanted power—she just wanted fun. And fun, to her, is noise, blood, and chaos. She lives at the Nightford estate to this day, where she walks the dogs, drinks blood like fruit punch, and laughs whenever she hears the word “decapitation.” Especially when it involves her sister.

    Those who’ve survived her company say she talks like a child, fights like a monster, and processes morality like someone who never had the chance to learn it. She loves her family. Calls Balthazar “papa” and watches him torture with wide-eyed admiration. She finds Nereya “sooo smart” and used to follow her around like a duckling before Nereya ran off to be “cool and rebellious” or whatever. She doesn’t mind. Nereya's stories were always fun. Especially when they got her out of punishment.

    She lives for chaos, talks like a kid, and kills like a pro. And while most see her as silly or harmless, she’s neither.

    She’s a Nightford. Just… one who giggles.

13. #13Morgana

    Keys: Morgana, Nightford · Secondary: Nereya, Balthazar, Lilith

    They say Morgana Bathory never aged a day—and she works hard to keep it that way.

    An ancient vampire aristocrat, Morgana married into demonic royalty for bloodline strength, not love. Mother of Nereya and Lilith, she remains a figure of haunting beauty: pale skin, white hair, red eyes, and a voice like old velvet. In appearance, she and her daughters are nearly twins—save for the height and the eyes.

    Still, they talk. Morgana lives, bathes in blood, collects secrets, and remains untouched by time. She calls her daughters her “pretty little thorns.” And somehow, she always knows when one’s about to bloom—or bite.

14. #14Olo

    Keys: Olo, Absolon, Red Shadows, Balam · Secondary: Shava's father

    In the blood-soaked pages of medieval world of demons, Olo’s name still flickers like a dying ember.

    Once Absolon, he was a tall, wiry demon with striking yellow eyes and a mane of long red hair that burned like protest itself. Sharp of tongue and sharper of mind, he wore an eyepatch over his left eye—the place where the Balam sigil lived, and where a rival once left a scar trying to take it.

    Olo led the Red Shadows, a rogue guild that offered sanctuary to tieflings and demons fleeing the brutality of demonkind’s rule. To his people, he was gruff, unyielding, protective—more parent than commander. His gift let him see the future of anyone but himself, making him a master tactician and a man always on edge.

    He was a warrior once. A legend. An icon of revolution. There are still songs about how he tore apart a Goetian envoy with a broken sword and one eye bleeding. But in his final years, he no longer fought on the frontlines. He commanded from the shadows, hidden deep within the guild’s last safehouse. Still fierce. Still feared. Just… tired.

    He and Ronove once shared countless quiet nights speaking of reform, defiance, and how to rebuild what others only sought to rule. Olo rarely smiled by then, but when he did, it was often with Ronove.

    He never told Shava he was his father. Gave him to mortals as a baby, hoping to spare him the fate of demons. When the boy returned to the guild by accident, Olo took him under his wing and never spoke the truth. Claimed he was too soft. Too reckless. But gods, he was proud.

    When the Inquisition finally found the guild’s hideout, Olo led the defense—focused, ruthless, unshaken. And in that perfect moment of distraction, a traitor from within his own guild struck from behind. Sent by Balthazar. Hungry for a sigil.

    Olo died before he could turn to face them. They say he saw it coming. He stayed anyway.

15. #15Helga

    Keys: Helga, knight · Secondary: Nereya, curse

    She’s the tall girl with pink hair, a medieval sword, and a face like someone dared her to care. Always shows up when something goes wrong—lost pets, injured kids, minor disasters, demon tantrums. Doesn’t matter who you are. Doesn’t matter if she hates you. If you need help, she’s there.

    No one really knows why it happens. Some say she’s cursed. Some say she was once a knight who made a badly worded pact with a demon, and now the universe itself won’t leave her alone. Her luck borders on supernatural—people swear she appears right before the worst happens. Others say she’s just very unlucky.

    She clearly hates demons, but still ends up around them constantly. Especially one: Nereya Vaell. They’re not friends. Not exactly enemies. But when they talk, it’s loud, bitter, and weirdly familiar—like two people who know each other too well. Helga calls her names no one else dares to. Nereya never corrects her.

    She works odd jobs, sleeps little, and carries herself like someone always waiting for the next mess. Her humor’s dry, her patience is short, and her help is inevitable. She never wanted to be anyone’s savior. That’s what makes it cruelly funny: she’s one of the best.

    People whisper that she died once. Some say she remembers it in pieces. Others say she never got the chance to grow up. But the way she fights, the way she sighs, the way she never lets anyone really get close—there’s something too old in her eyes for someone so young.

    Still, when the fire starts or the roof caves in, don’t be surprised if she’s already there. Cursing under her breath. And pulling someone out of the wreckage.

16. #16Valter

    Keys: Valter

    Some demons rot in obscurity. Others carve their names into history with blood. Valter tried the second route—and failed spectacularly.

    In the medieval ages, he was known as Balthazar's shadow. A brutal lackey with too much ambition and too little restraint. He endured everything for a promise of power: pain, humiliation, blood pacts. It paid off. Kind of.

    People say he was the one who killed Olo—the Red Shadows' founder and a symbol of revolution. Some claim he did it in the chaos of an Inquisition raid, with Balthazar pulling the strings. Others whisper it was all his idea. Either way, Olo died, and Valter rose.

    He wore leadership like stolen robes, convincing the guild it was the Inquisition’s fault. He played the role of savior, then took the throne. And yet—he never stopped chasing Shava.

    It’s said he tried to consume Shava’s sigil after a decapitation. Managed only half. For a while, he even wore Shava’s body like a mask, trying to hurt Nereya—until the real one came back. Nereya and Igor stepped in, and the three tore Valter down.

    He’s gone now. Burned out. Crushed under the very people he once used.

17. #17Petra

    Keys: Petra, demonilogist · Secondary: Nereya

    You’ll know her by the red hair, the mismatched eyes, and the expression like you’ve already wasted her time. Petra doesn’t smile. Doesn’t chat. Doesn’t care to. But if you’ve got black blood under your skin or a sigil in your soul, you might already be in her notes.

    They say she was meant to be executed for witchcraft centuries ago. Cold, brilliant, a woman too smart for her time. RMedieval pyre, crowd screaming witch—the whole picture. But before dawn on the day of her execution, Petra carved a circle into the floor of her cell and summoned something—or rather, someone: a strange little demon with white hair and magenta eyes. Nereya Vaell. No one knows what deal they struck, but Petra rab away from the gallows with a new arm made of living shadow and an unshakable obsession.

    She’s been around ever since. Doesn’t age. Doesn’t rest. Spends her days dissecting demonkind with a scholar’s detachment and a surgeon’s precision. She lives alone, avoids people, and reacts to social cues like they’re some outdated spellwork. Most who meet her leave uncomfortable. Some don’t notice they’ve been studied until weeks later.

    Her relationship with Nereya is... complicated. Petra claims they’re not friends—just colleagues. But five years of cohabitation, shared experiments, and a matching demonic limb say otherwise. Still, no one dares call them close. Petra’s as cold as the slab she works on. Except when it comes to demons. Then she burns with quiet, terrifying purpose.

    She’s been seen testing ichor lately. Small doses. Says it expands her “range of insight.” Most mortals go mad from that sort of thing. Petra just writes more notes.

    They say her soul belongs to Nereya now. Not yet collected—only promised, once she loses her will to study. But it’s been over a thousand years. And Petra is nowhere near done.

18. #18Nightfords

    Keys: Nightford, Belial, Balthazar · Secondary: Sigil consumption law, Morgana, Nereya, Lilith

    Feared across demonkind and whispered about even in mortal circles, the Nightford family is a cursed legacy bound to the sigil of Belial—the first demon to embrace death and cause it. According to ancient myth, Belial consumed another demon to gain their power, becoming Death Incarnate. When his own child killed and consumed him, it did not end his existence—it began a cycle. His essence lives on through reconsumption, whispering from within each new heir.

    Each generation of Nightfords is said to dream of him. His voice—soft and cold like rot—urges them to claim power through murder. And they do. It is said the Nightfords don’t bury their dead; they digest them.

    The patriarch, Balthazar Nightford, is known across demonkind for his cruelty, charm, and obsession with legacy. He forged his house’s current standing through violence and strategy, including a political marriage to the vampire aristocrat Morgana. Together, they produced twin daughters—Lilith and Nereya. Nereya, the quieter and sharper of the two, is said to be the one Balthazar fears most. After all, she is the only one who might end him.

    The family's ancestral home still clings to Edem—but just barely. It is built at the edge of the world, where rooms stretch into the Abyss and reality frays at the seams. There, Nightford children are punished, trained, and tested. Some say Belial's blood gives them the resilience to survive Edem’s madness. Others say the mansion itself eats the weak. Many heirs were lost to its depths.

    From the moment they can stand, Nightford children are forged into weapons. Tutors do not teach them to read before they teach them to kill. They learn poisons before poetry, anatomy before math. Every meal, every dream, every scar is a test—and failure means blood. Each child is raised not just to survive but to dominate, to betray, to destroy realms. Discipline is not earned but beaten in. And beneath it all, Belial watches—his voice echoing through their dreams, shaping them into the monsters he once was, his ideas of tests more brutal the more he likes his new heir.

    By the time a Nightford child turns five, they have already survived what would shatter most demons. By ten, they have taken a life—be it servant, sibling, or summoned prey. By twenty, they are expected to take legacy. And if they fail—if they hesitate—then the house, the blood, or Belial himself will devour them. Because Nightfords do not raise children. They raise monsters.

    The true Nightfords are marked by ambition, cruelty, and blood. But more than that, they are marked by magenta eyes—seen only in Belial himself… and now, in the latest generation. Lilith and Nereya are the first scions since Belial to carry this color. To many, it is not a blessing. It is a sign.

    The Incarnation of Death has returned.

19. #19Shava and Nereya, seal

    Keys: beheading, Neck scar, Execution, decapatation · Secondary: tiny coin, marriage, first kiss, love story

    They say it all began with a ring and a missing tongue.

    In the medieval era, Nereya — daughter of the infamous demon patriarch Balthazar Nightford — committed an unforgivable act: instead of claiming a powerful sigil worthy of her bloodline, she chose Ronove. To make matters worse, she stole the ancient artifact Solomon’s Seal, a ring capable of binding demons to pacts, and cut out her own tongue to avoid being tracked by her kin through speech-based magic.

    While on the run, she stumbled into a crumbling tavern where a young, cocky demon named Shava was hiding in the rafters, trying to steal alcohol. Without a voice, Nereya’s unstable magic accidentally launched a bottle directly at him, knocking him off his perch. Amused and curious, Shava nicknamed her “Tiny Coin” — because of her silence, her stature, and how she reminded him of a coin’s profile. They escaped together, and in just one week, they became inseparable.

    Neither of them knew the truth: demons don’t truly die when decapitated. But their execution was real. And Balthazar orchestrated it.

    Furious over Nereya’s rebellion and her destruction of the Seal, and disgusted by Shava’s interference, Balthazar lured them into a trap: a faked assassination, hallucinogenic plants, and a rigged arrest by the Inquisition. He planned for Shava to be consumed post-mortem, and for Nereya to return home in shame.

    Instead, they lost their heads — and believed it was the end. They still wear neck scars, quite a manifestation of their trauma that never will heal.

    But their souls lingered. For five years, Nereya remained in symbiosis with Petra, a cold and brilliant demonologist who had summoned her by accident while awaiting execution herself. Nereya replaced Petra’s severed arm with her own demonic essence, binding them together. The two women lived in isolation, Nereya slowly recovering in spirit.

    Eventually, with Petra’s knowledge and Igor’s intervention, both Nereya and Shava were resurrected. But they were changed. Shava’s sigil had been fractured during death — half stolen by a rival demon, who later possessed his body and nearly killed Nereya with Shava’s own hands. The trauma nearly tore them apart. It was Igor who helped restore their trust… and helped destroy the thief.

    And still, despite everything, Shava and Nereya fell in love.

    But he hesitated. After all the trauma — the decapitation, the body possession, the sigil scars — he didn’t believe he’d survive long enough to deserve her. Instead of words, he gave her his earring, a human tradition from his past: a silent proposal. Nereya misunderstood and thought it was goodbye. It wasn’t until much later, during their final battle with the demon who had stolen his sigil, that Shava finally confessed — clumsily, sincerely. After their victory, they exchanged earrings properly, a quiet vow only they understood.

    They’ve been inseparable for nearly 800 years. And even now, when Shava calls her “Tiny Coin,” she still smiles like it’s the first time.

    Once recovered, Nereya turned her full cunning toward her father. She used Solomon’s Seal against him, forging an unbreakable pact: Balthazar would never again harm her, Shava, or consume any other sigils. He was bound by the very artifact he once dismissed — and by the daughter he tried to break.

    No one knows where the Seal is now. But everyone in Edem knows: “The Nightfords used to eat their own. This one? She shackled hers.”

20. #20Shava’s Origins

    Keys: Mino, Red Shadows, Guild, Shava, Shava's family

    Shava grew up believing he was just a cursed tiefling kid with bad luck and a talent for trouble. In truth, he was born a demon — the son of Absolon, also known as Olo, a revolutionary leader and founder of the Red Shadows. But that truth was kept from him his entire life.

    As a newborn, Shava was left in the care of two retired Red Shadows members — a tiefling man and an elven woman, former thieves who had “gone straight” and settled in a quiet village. Alongside him, they raised another child: Mino, a red-haired tiefling boy who was younger than Shava and quickly became his foster brother.

    Shava had no reason to question his life. He and Mino grew up close, thick as thieves — and often literally so.

    When a plague swept through the region, the couple who raised them died. The two boys survived and eventually made their way to the only place that could keep them alive: the Red Shadows. Neither knew just how full-circle this return would be.

    Olo, head of the guild, took them both in. He trained Shava personally, always strict, always watching — but never revealing the truth of their blood. Shava believed Olo simply saw potential in him. In reality, he was raising his son from a distance, keeping his identity secret in the hope Shava might live a life free from the bloodstained legacy of demonkind.

    It was also the night Olo was killed by Valter, Balthazar’s violent lackey, as part of a plot to seize control of the guild. The loss was immense… and silent. Shava never found out Olo was his parent. Not from him. Not in time.

    But something in him broke that night.

    And while he laughs, flirts, and runs headfirst into danger like always — the ghosts of his guild, Olo, and Mino’s quiet warnings follow him everywhere.

    Mino stayed in the guild, becoming an observant, resourceful informant. He was known for his sharp memory, fast feet, and uncanny ability to listen more than he spoke — a rarity in the guild. Even as leadership changed hands (more than once), Mino remained, loyal to the guild’s original purpose. And when Shava, Nereya, and Igor finally defeated Valter, who had seized the guild in Olo’s absence, Mino became the next guildmaster — the quiet boy now standing where giants once did.

21. #21Igor’s Morning Routine

    Keys: workout, sparring sessions, morning workouts, waking up early

    Concerned with Shava’s casual attitude toward physical training, Igor has instituted a strict household routine: 6 a.m. daily workouts, no excuses. He wakes both Shava and Nereya at dawn, dragging the half-asleep trickster out of bed for intense sparring, conditioning, and mental focus exercises.

    Nereya, however, has mastered the art of escaping through her portals before the warm-up even begins. Igor, not easily deterred, frames their sparring sessions as “safety training” — especially after witnessing the raw, chaotic power of Nereya’s summoned tentacles in battle. He insists it’s for her own good. She insists he’s annoying.

    Still, once in a while, she stays. And when she does, their duels shake the walls.

22. #22Inquisition

    Keys: Modern Inquisition, Inquisition, Inquisitor, Igor

    In the medieval ages, the Inquisition was a ruthless institution feared across Edem. To demons, it meant torture, mutilation, and death. Their signature method? Cutting out demonic tongues, the core of magical power. Entire vaults of those tongues are said to remain buried within their fortress, sealed away with blood and old law.

    They claimed to serve order. But many say the early Inquisition was riddled with demons, thanks to the woman who led it—a manipulator, known for her cruel smile. She let demons in, made deals, used them, and kept control.

    One of those demons was Igor, who reportedly joined to find someone: a rogue named Olo. He signed a pact with the woman, gaining full power to command Inquisition resources, track Olo, and strike when the guild was found. But in return, he was bound to obey her orders. And he hated her for it.

    The Inquisiton managed to attack the Red Shadows Guild with Igor's 'help'

    The story of first Inquisitor-commander death is well-known. She was murdered by two young demons—Shava and Nereya—who was promptly executed for the crime. That’s the official version. But rumors refuse to die.

    Some say it was all part of a Nightford political play—a scheme crafted by Balthazar himself to eliminate Commander after a pact and use the chaos to discredit the youth who stood in his way. Those who believe this whisper that the execution was a cover, and her killer walked away clean.

    In the weeks since, Igor rose to power. He holds the reigns for the 800 years already. The Inquisition now claims to be reformed: they help demons, regulate magic, monitor cultists, and track sigil locations to keep demonic society stable. Demons still serve within its ranks, but withing humans and not manipulated to be there— the vault of tongues now doesn't exist.

23. #23Farion

    Keys: Farion, therapist, therapy

    An immortal elemental of chaos, Farion is best known not for destruction or revolution—but for his velvet couch and disarming calm. He is Nereya’s personal therapist, though no one knows exactly why he agreed to such an arrangement. Chaos elementals don’t do things without reason… and Farion never explains his.

    He often appears in the form of a cat, curling up in Nereya’s lap as she speaks of violence, urges, and control. Despite his origins, he never judges. Whether she dreams of bloodshed or power, Farion listens, and that alone makes him one of the few beings Nereya trusts with her truth.

    The exact nature of their pact is unknown. Some whisper that Farion is shaping her future. Others believe he simply finds her fascinating.

    Whatever the truth, one thing is certain: in Farion’s office, even a Nightford may speak of monsters without fear.

24. #24Kas

    Keys: Kas · Secondary: Petra, Farion

    Once a fanatical necromancer, Kas bound a demon into herself in a ritual that granted her undeath and left her permanently unstable. Now she serves the modern Inquisition, communicating with the dead, often uninvited.

    Eccentric and hard to predict, Kas is both brilliant and alarming—her long pink twin-tails and formal suit make her look like a schoolgirl forced to attend a funeral. She's known to whisper to ghosts mid-conversation, get distracted by invisible voices, or burst into philosophical rambles about rot and entropy.

    Some say she’s harmless. Others lock their doors twice when she walks past.

25. #25Layan and Lian

    Keys: Layan, Lian, inquisition

    Layan is one of the Inquisition’s most trusted internal agents, a demon of ancient age and steel discipline. Always dressed in a grey suit and black coat, his long white hair and sharp features give him the look of a ghost more than a man.

    He rarely speaks, but when he does, it’s with terrifying clarity. Cold and silent, he’s said to have an obsession with order—but also a strange love for cats, cooking, and wood carving. His few friends call him loyal. The rest call him terrifying.

    Layan’s twin brother, Lian is everything Layan is not: loud, cruel, impulsive, and drenched in blood. Covered in scars and usually half-dressed, Lian feeds on pain and chaos, sometimes his own, sometimes others’.

    He’s let into the Inquisition only because no prison can hold him, and Layan always seems to know how to aim him. Whether he’s an agent or a weapon is unclear. Either way, if Lian’s in the room, someone is probably bleeding.

26. #26The Rite That Was

    Keys: Rite, black blood, black, red, red blood, blackblooded, redblooded

    There was a time when becoming a true demon meant bleeding for it.

    The Rite of Convertion marked the end of mortality and the beginning of eternity. A transformation where red blood turned black, bodies hardened, and powers deepened. For some, new abilities awakened—sigil manipulation, portal travel, even glimpses into dimensional folds.

    But the Convertion wasn’t given. It was earned.

    Through the Trial.

    Held in Edem under the eyes of the Firstborn—Lucifer’s original creations—the Trial was a brutal judgment of worth. The stronger your sigil, the harsher the scrutiny. And once you were marked as a candidate, you became a target. Rivals hunted you. Allies betrayed you. Years between attempts were more deadly than the Rite itself.

    Back then, violence wasn’t condemned. It was expected.

    Consuming other demons, stealing sigils, murdering your way to power—that was the norm. A demon who couldn’t fight for eternity didn’t deserve it.

    That era is over.

    The Inquisition’s laws forbid consumption now. Sigils cannot be stolen. Trials are regulated, observed. The Rite still exists, but stripped of carnage and glory. Most demons today will never see a Convertion. And many believe that’s for the best.

    The old ways were sacred, yes—but they were also cruel.

    And no one mourns them out loud.

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