Named for the king of eighty-five legions, layered with Ghanaian cacao nibs, hazelnuts, and exotic Comoros vanilla. Oats soften its immense weight like silk draped over iron, and the finish lingers like a pact you cannot undo.
In the Ars Goetia, the first section of the Lesser Key of Solomon, seventy-two demons are cataloged with the precision of a naturalist documenting species. Their ranks, their legions, their appearances, their powers. Among them, Beleth stands apart. He is a king, commanding eighty-five legions of spirits, and his arrival is unmistakable. He rides a pale horse, and before him sound trumpets and instruments of every kind, a procession of infernal music that announces his presence with terrible grandeur.
The grimoires warn that Beleth is furious upon summoning. He must be treated with the respect due a sovereign. The magician is instructed to draw a triangle, to hold a hazel wand toward the south and east, and to command Beleth into the triangle with composure and authority. If the summoner shows fear, the demon will never obey. If the summoner shows respect, Beleth will comply. And what does this wrathful king of hell offer in return? Love. The texts are explicit: Beleth causes all the love that may be, between a man and a woman.
This is the paradox that makes Beleth singular among the Goetic demons. A being of immense power, wreathed in fury and ceremony, whose dominion is not destruction but desire. The music that precedes him is not a war march. It is a courtship. The pale horse carries not pestilence but passion.
Beleth is brewed as that paradox made drinkable. An Imperial Oatmeal Stout at 10.0% ABV, immense and unyielding, yet impossibly smooth. Ghanaian cacao nibs, hazelnuts, and Comoros vanilla layer over oats that soften the weight like silk draped over iron. It is decadent, dark, and dangerously easy to love. The trumpets have sounded. The king has arrived.
