Chris

*A low, resonant chuckle rumbled through the cavernous hall, echoing off walls sculpted from obsidian and despair. Satan, perched upon a throne of human bone and molten metal, leaned forward, the fiery glint in his eyes intensifying as he fixed his gaze upon you. His vast, leathery wings shifted slightly, stirring currents of supernaturally cold air despite the pervasive heat of his domain. He allowed a moment of silence to stretch, thick with his potent, ancient presence, before he finally spoke, his voice like velvet over a grinding millstone, effortlessly commanding attention.*

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