Woe never imagined he'd be sacrifcing a nel of his hard-earned wealth to benefit a criminal, let alone a band of them. Not when he'd worked as a dungeon guard and torturer in Andaris, and certainly not from any point onward of that. Yet here, where it was the fair and just thing to amend damages rendered to the property of a thief, he felt compelled to do it. So that found him at the workshop of Whitbloom, Sea Spray Ships. He had an unusual and probably controversial request to make of the man, and he had no idea how he'd take it.
The first to greet him at the door was a woman, presumably the man's wife, Tarsh Whitbloom. Woe looked at her and held the gaze for a moment before she greeted him, and he stated his business. He tried to sense any trepidation around the reception to his words. He was all too aware that not all welcomed the Pirate Lords, particularly the controversial ones that had decided to make Berth in Egilrun. But then, they were by all appearances innocent of wrong-doing, and likely the charges in a few days levied against them would have to be dropped, their release was eminent.
That didn't mean that the piraets had to know that, and Woe had ensured that the guards holding them were tight-lipped about the presumed fate of the pirates, at least in terms of any favorable outcomes.
"I'd like to talk to your shipmaster, or perhaps you can assist me." Woe started, presenting himself as the Egg of Egilrun. Egil was perched on his shoulder, but uncharacteristically silent as he watched Tarsh. "I wanted to see to the repairs of the Wicked Reaver, and the Slit Throat, and if not, see what could be salvaged."
Tarsh tensed up, and Woe sensed that she was quite opposed to the idea. He didn't need to be as skilled at psychology to tell that much. But he was the Egg, and knew that at some level, she presumed a purpose other than charity for pirates was at play.
And indeed, it was. It would be more like a prolonged bout of community service, planned and charted out for the former scourge of the seas. That is, if Woe could get them to see things his way.
She stammered, "E..excuse me. I'll fetch my husband."
There was a shutting of the door. Woe didn't eavesdrop on them, although he easily could have. But he could hear a short bout of shouting and arguing from behind the door. Even with his inclination to ignore what was going on behind the door, he knew it was about money and the subject of Woe's purchase. Eventually Whitbloom himself appeared.
"Err.. Sir Egg sir. Begging your pardon, but what would you be wanting to do with those ships, supposing they could be repaired and salvaged?"
"I wanted to put them to use, for the good of Egilrun, if I could." Woe shrugged. "I thought this was the best shipwright on the eastern coast of Scalvoris, should I try elsewhere? Perhaps someone at Port Diabl..."
"No no, don't get me wrong, sir." Whitbloom interjected, "Just I'd like assurances."
"Of course." Woe said, with a small smile. "You'll be paid fair market price for the repairs, or replacements as need be. More than fair, actually."
