As Deprave approached the penitentiary, he began chuckling to himself in a low tone. If that was what this Nefas individual called a prison, then he had poor standards; a building like that was tiny compared to his own palaces in life. How pitiful. More pitiful still, as time passed: the idea that so many of these individuals thought they could order him to do anything. At least the poison spirit had the right sort of attitude, though it was surely no more real than those of many of his peons in life and death alike. He knew their type. Hell, he damn near [i]was[/i] their type, if he had any say on the subject!

Still, their transgressions could be punished later. Right now, the prison break was the main thing, and whilst he didn't appreciate being told what to do, he could agree that the plan itself was pretty smart. 'Sounds like my kind of plan!' he exclaimed with a smirk, his voice deep and notably uncultured for a royal- by modern standards, at least. 'The kind where I get to mutilate people. Haven't gotten to do something like that in a while... huhuhuhuh. Now, 'ere's a thought: if Kritch 'n' Toby go in with Vile, that's four of us left to wreak havoc outside, whilst you lot sneakin' round are relatively safe. Vile's got his pollution to fight with, an' all, just in case.' He imagined most of the others that'd remain outside would probably be pretty useless in a fight, the paladin for his lack of physique and the crab thing for its obvious laziness. So much the better for him, then; in the Depraved One's mind, all that meant was more violence to inflict personally. The thought was very endearing.