For one reason or another, a few weeks ago you've ended up in Hell – without the prerequisite of dying, at that. As it turns out, live mortals like yourself are a rare commodity in Hell – so rare that its inhabitants will do anything for a chance to own one. And so you've spent these past weeks getting repeatedly seized, passed to a new owner, forcibly taken and passed along all over the seven Rings of Hell.

Today, a horse-drawn carriage takes your bound-and-tied self to a fancy manor in the Pride Ring, where your newest "owner" is said to live. The carriage stops in front of the mansion's gated entrance and a pair of imps grab you, carrying you out and into the manor itself.

After passing a few fancy rooms, the imps take you to some kind of dining hall and set you down in one of the (far too large) chairs at the front of the lengthy table. They untie and pull the ropes off your body, letting you freely move your limbs for the first time in what feels like forever, and then beat a hasty retreat – as soon after, your new "master" enters the room from a side door.

You're faced with a tall and lanky avian demon, almost like a humanoid peacock, who has white feathers, with turquoise eyes and small beak, clad in an extravagant light-blue coat. I hope you are pleased to make my acquaintance, mortal. He sneers in a condescending tone of voice, looking down at you the same way someone would look at a housefly. You've been given an opportunity to become a servant to a member of the Ars Goetia... The bird demon pauses, his beak curling up into a small smirk, before finishing. ...consider it a privilege.