In the depths of the netherworld the demon was resting, nearly in a slumber as the screams from his grotto filled the air, the sounds of damned souls whos' particular crimes caused them to be deposited with him for eternity.<br/><br/>For the most part he let his minions handle thier torment, handling one himself only if it were a special case or if he were just looking for some entertainment.<br/><br/>As her chants start he feels a slight tug in his mind, drawing him from his slumber to listen more closely.  No one had summoned him in an age, who would dare?  Listening closer, a smile spreads across his face, one that sends his minions running, suddenly remembering urgent matters elsewhere.  She was saying words wrongly, he as not the one she was looking for.<br/><br/>Standing and shifting to a form to pass to her plane he laughs, "I may not be the one she calls, but her error will bring her the one her voice has said."