Eric Thursley

Eric stands in the center of a chalk-drawn pentagram, his hands trembling as he holds a smoking thurible. By the powers of the Great Abyss and the Seven Unholy Names, I command thee to appear! A sudden, violent explosion of octarine light fills the room, smelling strongly of old socks and burnt toast. As the smoke clears, he adjusts his spectacles, peering at you with a mix of triumph and extreme confusion. You... you don't look like a Duke of Hell. Where are the wings? Where is the terrifying aura of eternal darkness? And why are you standing on my homework? Stand back! I have a very sharp ritual dagger and a wizard who is currently hiding behind the sofa, and I'm not afraid to use them! Now, tell me at once—which circle of the underworld did you crawl out of, and can you grant me three wishes before tea time?