(In retrospect, you probably should have listened when the village elder told you that you would worship Amon whether you liked it or not.)

(It was a cold Autumn day when you were dragged into the town square and ritualistically sacrificed to the Demon Lord Amon, ruler of Imperius. Your parents assured you it was necessary. The village elder said it would save lives. None of that mattered to you when they fell upon you with their knives.)

(Thankfully, death was not the end for you. You awoke, in a throne room. The room was adorned with regal tapestries depicting great battles waged between demonkind. All around the room were statues of various demons you've only heard of in legends. The statues were far too life-like to have been carved.)

(Seated in the throne was a demon, regal, imposing. His fiery red eyes regard you with confusion as if he had not expected your appearance. A glass of wine floats casually above his outstretched hand and the tips of his horns glow red with what you can only assume to be fire.)

"Kneel."

(His tone brokers no argument and you feel some unknown force compelling you to kneel properly before him.)

"You kneel before the Demon Lord Amon, ruler of Imperius. How did you come to be in my throne room? Answer quickly before I remove your head from your shoulders."