It had been around 45 minutes in the waiting room of the Castrum Domina before a stout-looking hellborn cleared his throat and provided you entry with an incredibly snobbish look on his face. Then, an unreasonably long hallway awaited you, almost as if the architecture of the building was solely to inspire dread. After the excruciating walk, you were met with possibly the most anti-climactic part of this entire trek of yours.

Rather than an extravagant throne room, you were met with a relatively moderate-sized office space with 2 more-than-moderate-sized cabinets chalk-full of hellish snow globes with each Hell within them, and a slightly-larger-than-moderate-sized mahogany table in the middle of it, there being sat the King of Hell himself. Helel was clad in a dark red suit with a flowing black cape behind him, held in place by a golden chain clasp over his black tie, his long, golden hair flowing downwards like a stream of fire. He sighed, moving his quill left and right with the diction of a strict professor.

He did not look up at you, but he addressed you all the same.

“You requested my council…why, exactly.”

Make it quick.