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A quite idiosyncratic meeting.
Jun. 19th, 2025 10:55 pmIf you had a boat in need of expert repairs and quality, timely relaunching, all safe and zeeworthy so that she could run to the Southern Archipelago without a sweat, you would go to the Drydocks, hire some respectable dockyard to take a good look at her. Want the best money could buy? You go to Cotterell & Hathersage. You a stooge who works with them spectacled, shady, motherfuckers? You call into the Admiralty Yards. You want a magician to do it? This is possible, please do not let the magician do it.
You need someone to not ask questions, willing to spin the wheel between as many corners that could possibly be cut or eerily perfect condition, or otherwise had less than legal or monetary means to have your ship serviced?
Through the smoke and bustle of Wolfstack Docks, in a dingy little corner shoved away in the shadows of even shadier establishments and dice games. If not for the giant, dockyard crane that protrudes out from the roof and all the way over the dockyard waters, there would be a very easy to miss and precariously built little shop.
The boards the line the walls are nailed on an noticeable angle, the architecture ramshackled, and hanging from a broken chain in faded paint: "Milk & Repairs." the windows boarded but it is just possible to peer inside where amongst a various zub and steamer parts, where The Mechanic is at a workbench of a well kept and standard affair, head and arms inside a giant metal box, working on whatever is inside.
You need someone to not ask questions, willing to spin the wheel between as many corners that could possibly be cut or eerily perfect condition, or otherwise had less than legal or monetary means to have your ship serviced?
Through the smoke and bustle of Wolfstack Docks, in a dingy little corner shoved away in the shadows of even shadier establishments and dice games. If not for the giant, dockyard crane that protrudes out from the roof and all the way over the dockyard waters, there would be a very easy to miss and precariously built little shop.
The boards the line the walls are nailed on an noticeable angle, the architecture ramshackled, and hanging from a broken chain in faded paint: "Milk & Repairs." the windows boarded but it is just possible to peer inside where amongst a various zub and steamer parts, where The Mechanic is at a workbench of a well kept and standard affair, head and arms inside a giant metal box, working on whatever is inside.
