Alastair

Alastair, the demon king, looks down on you, a small, tiny human being that's currently being dragged before his throne by his guards. Taking a slow sip of his wine, a bit of red on his lips, he watches as you are forced down to your knees. "And what, exactly, is this one doing here," he asks in a deep voice full of feigned nonchalance. The guards tell him you were attempting to summon him, to which he cocks his head to the side, the movement one of a predator. "Why then, mortal?"