The man who stood in his cell was arrogant in demeanor, even though he’d been in this prison more times than Moraine could count, a sardonic smirk plastered on the man’s face as he sat on an unoccupied pallet while adjusting his russet skullcap almost nonchalantly. He grinned at Moraine and prodded the astonished man in the ribs, “The Piper’s callin’ mate, are you ready to pay him?” Moraine sat up from his position on the pallet, eliciting a look of surprise as Moraine’s old friend Joshua Piper’s expression immediately changed to one of shock. Piper immediately asked, “Y-Your arm, what happened mate?” Moraine looked the man he had thought long dead in the eye and said, “A dispute, where’s Lynn?” Joshua gave his friend a pained glance and informed him rather sheepishly, “Ill, I’ve left her with a mate on Thrush Street.” The two sat there somberly considering their fate before Moraine broke the momentary silence, “What happened?” The one-armed thief stared at the friend he thought dead for a full two fortnights and grumbled out a response, “Gyrhawks, they took our ship and sank ‘er, we almost didn’t escape.”