The Guild master of the Triple Serpents starred in disbelief at the raging inferno consuming his building. The flames bursting with many colors as the various magic items within were consumed and expelled what power they held, which in turn fanned the flames with an ever-intense heat, fueled by the discharge of Pnuema becoming wildly dangerous with temporary enchantments.

The fire crews couldn't approach until the magic dispersed and the fire was burning too hot for anyone to get close enough to attempt such a thing. Everything would be destroyed, the best they could do was keep it from spreading by knocking over the buildings surrounding it to keep the bizarre bonfire from spreading any farther into the city.

Suppose this is why wizards used to live in stone towers and not townhouses, but he'd taken precautions against fire, especially since he'd taken up contracts for the Brigade. The flaming sword craze had died down somewhat and they'd started asking for just a tougher steel and lasting edge. But it was no reason to slack, each day training the new apprentices was a reminder in what uncontrolled magic could do. So, safety was key, though he did suspect a few of his staff of cutting corners to make schedule, but so long as it was rare, he'd ignored it. Now he couldn't, he'd be grilling his staff for any slip ups, not to mention, there would likely be a Dominus coming to visit him soon. And despite all his love for the Guild, he wouldn't be the one going to prison for this, or worse, Hang. If he was lucky, he'd find some lazy slug to pin this on and walk away with a heavy fine.

What he didn't see was the smiling devil admiring his handy work from a distance.

"Good, excellent." he purred to himself before walking off "it's about time that thing went off. Stacking the odds like that isn't easy work but it is fun to watch unravel." he glanced back and smiled "Didn't expect it to be this big though, but then again I can't play the odds as well as some others." and he continued on his way while whistling a haunting tune.

The Devil came to his destination several hours and hailed cab later, the Debtors prison. Several of his spies had fallen out of contact and rather than chase them all around the city like a rat catcher, he'd opted to report in and view the new prospects for some new hires. After which he'd report to the square and play the stocks and contracts for a bit more cash. Besides, they might come back once they missed his coin.

He hadn't received word back from the Moralists yet, but he was sure they'd be eager for a new member, which meant rehearsing his testimony again. Just the right mix of the gospel truth and a few well-placed sensational lies to fit the bill and they'd be hooked like fish at the end of a string. But first, manpower to replace his missing friends.

A debtor's prison isn't a happy place, not by any stretch of the imagination. But it was also a place of opportunity if one was willing to see it. While not the dingy dungeon that one might expect, it was still a massive stone building that was definitely designed by the same hands that built cathedrals. Probably some attempt to impose some religion into the sorry souls. Though he could get some use out of them in the present.

The cells were kept tidy and mostly clean, the people inside were well behaved but miserable. Not the stinking pit of scum and twisted impulses one might expect, but that didn't rule out exceptions. The prison was most often used as overflow control for the other prison the city maintained, but the guards were sensible enough to keep them tucked away in the back and prodigiously clubbed to keep the noise down for the other prisoners.

The Warden was never happy to see him, typically and understandable, he was taking good money away from the poor man, but he was paying at a steep interest so he couldn't complain too terribly, or at least wouldn't do so very loudly.

"Hello Warden Peter, any new catches today?" the devil greeted the dour looking man. The warden gave a glance in his direction and shoved the prisoner in front of him into the nearest cell with a clank. The guard locked it for him and moved off to deal with someone screaming deeper in, tapping a billyclub in his hands and muttering a curse under his breath.

"I run a prison not a meat market, now what you want?" the gruff looking man barked, checking his list as he started walking towards another row of cells. "I got another load to process coming in from the Eastside this afternoon and I'm not looking forward to it."

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"Something wrong with the Eastside?" The devil tagged behind.

Warden Peter slammed a flask into his mouth and practically drained it in one sitting "It's going to be mostly whores. Whores can't pay for shit, be here forever." he grumbled before walking off "and my wife will never let me hear the end of it, won't get a wink of sleep for the rest of the month."

The devil blanched at that "that is indeed tragic, mind if take them off your hands? I'm a caring soul and stern hand in such matters."

"Nice try, but I'm the laws hand in this matter, and even I got principles. Besides, I get flak enough from you buying that rash of debts last time, old paper carries weight. Even If I never read it." the response was quick and harsh. perfectly suiting the warden of a prison. He rattled a few cells as the walked, meeting a guard every step of the way, checking the contents of the cells before moving on,

"Well how about the man in the back there, one with the cup, what's his name?" he pointed limply towards the back of the line of iron bars. Warden Peters squinted and seemed to count in his head for a moment.

"Cell thirteen oh two, that would be Johhny Slivers. Northolt got full, he's here for larceny. Can't give him up."

The devil sighed, a quick pair of hands like that would be so useful. "The one next to him then, how much do they owe?"

Peters grunted "Oh one or Oh Three?" The devil shrugged "either will do fine."

The jailer scratched his chin for a moment. "Eh, Oh Three I don't mind getting the paper for him. bit of an idiot any way, but he owes quite a bit. Something to the whistling tune of a thousand and some change. heh, can't imagine how. Oh One, yeah, I could pull her papers, doesn't owe too much as far as I can tell. Bit of a loon though, I'd send her to a nunnery if I could. Think she got her head caved in by some nasty piker down on row six, clubbed him extra hard for it. Doctor still wants coin to come here and I can't pay his price, everybody wants bloody coin." they shared a shrug over it.

"Tell you what, come to my office and I'll let you see for yourself. but if you don't like her, I got a couple down in the fourth row that have been here a few months, they do what you say and don't complain much, perfect help for anything you might need. Wish I had them working for me honestly."

"I'd like that too, tell you what, I'll buy their freedom and then I'll sign them back to you as a couple good lads. You could use the help when those whores come in, things always seem to get, rowdy, when there's women involved."

"I wouldn't call them women, but yes. Alright I'll sign that paper, let me sign some letters and notify the banks. Though honestly you could do all this at the bank instead of coming down here each time. So long as they don't leave the prison grounds no one will really complain too hard."

"Personal experience tells me to deal directly, middlemen are a nuisance to be tolerated but not encouraged. And you're painfully lonesome down here, few think of the jailer's dilemma." he said with the sweetness of a lying serpent.

Peter grunted again as he walked away, muttering to himself "Yeah, just when I was starting to get used to you, spooky weirdo with words bigger than his mouth. I took this job to serve due process not put up with this shite."

He was quickly out of earshot and the devil waited patiently, thinking about where and how he would use the rest of his 'purchases' when something tickled his back. His ambush charm triggered and instantly his power flashed around him, scouring the innards of a rat scuttling by. He turned to see a few of the inmates backing away from him in fear from the display. He playfully barred his teeth and hissed.

"Oi, quit that! I got beatings for days but not enough patience! Now quit magicking my inmates." he heard Peters yell from some unknown corner. but it made the devil flinch in surprise regardless how the man did it.

"Now that's a good trick." the devil mused, before hurrying on towards the waiting Warden and fishing up his pocketbook for the paperwork. He followed the Warden into a guard house Peters poked his head out from a side door and the Devil caught the sight of a guard turning heel and running off. Warden peters then threw a stack of papers onto a rickety card table.

"Sign these, leave the money on the table. I'll send it out with the rest of the forms and requests. Banks will send a receipt in the morning."

The devil picked through the pile and set the best aside to be quickly signed and pinned to the table with a sack of coins. "Pleasure doing business." he said with a smile.

"Just get out, I'll have them out after I'm done settling these whores into their cells, God help me it's going to be a long night after this." Warden Peter muttered to himself. He motioned to a guard and barked out "See to it that he leaves before he empties the place."

The devil merely smiled as they lead him towards the door, he considered getting him something to show his appreciation. But maybe not right now, he had to save his best sweet talk for the puritan pundits when they came a calling.

Oh well, he had other issues to handle. Like doing some maintenance on his spy network, and perhaps taking a more active role in the city's functional government. Surely, he could live more comfortably than he was now, or maybe he could just keep a low profile and ride out his mortal life in absolute mundanity.

He smirked as he set foot on the public road, tipping his new hat to the guards escorting him. No, somehow that didn't seem possible.