After the time he spent in the dreary place, God of Rogues concluded that the Hell, as awful as it was, was pretty ineffective in the task of grinding souls down until they would be ready for rebirth. The population of demons was the proof to that. It was also a proof of the stubbornness of living. Even in this land of nothing but torture, souls of humans and monsters alike grabbed the remnants of their selves with claws and teeth and whatever appendages they had.
All that made Devourer's feats of stubbornness seem less impressive than they appeared to be before. But it gave little of concrete information about this particular demon.
To his frustration, God of Rogues found that in the ever-shifting society of Hell, every non-relevant information was the first to be forgotten in an event of someone's untimely death. And there were many untimely deaths. The weak rabble of souls and fresh demons didn't know even the name God of Rogues told them.
