Roger hears all sorts of information in his line of work, some of which may be useful to you.
Roger: Word is, Black Brush Station’s sorely undermanned. The Stone Torches there can’t get a moment’s peace. Roger: Bloke by the name o’ Warin is hopin’ to bolster their numbers for a short-term assignment or two. If you fancy puttin’ a few extra gil in yer pocket, you could do a lot worse.
Warin: Looking for work, perchance? If so, you couldn’t have come at a better time. Warin: We Stone Torches are sellswords hired by Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern to protect its interests. Our primary duty here is to keep the tracks clear of pests, and it is for this purpose that we require your aid. Warin: I should point out, however, that it can be messy work, and liable to get messier still if you’re ill prepared. Warin: A single piece of gear can mean the difference between life and death. I’ll not have it on my conscience that I sent an ill-equipped adventurer to an untimely demise. Warin: See to it that your arms and armor are in order. When you are ready, present yourself to me again.
Warin: So you are ready for inspection? Warin: Good. Everything appears in order. Warin: Yet know that naught is guaranteed in this world. Fate is a fickle mistress, after all. At any rate, capable adventurers like you are few and far between, and I would not have you throw your life away. Warin: I have had to bury too many comrades who brushed aside cracks in their hauberks and dints in their helms. No matter what you face, do not disregard the importance of gear.
Staelwyrn is up in arms, as his hired hands are nowhere to be found.
Staelwyrn: That sea-sloth Sevrin and his lot─never around when there’s work to be done! Staelwyrn: I’d sooner hire you for the sake of gettin’ things done, but then the rapscallions would never learn. Staelwyrn: Round them up and let them know that Staelwyrn would like a word… And don’t take no for an answer!
Wauter: Work? Ha! Can’t work when me hands are full liftin’ this mug. Ye know, I’d wager me last gil ye’d never guess what I’m drinkin’. Wauter: Well, yer right about the “swill” part. I reckon it might be worth a day o’ doin’ Staelwyrn’s chores if it’ll afford me a taste o’ proper grog.
Sozai Rarzai: (groan) How am I supposed to work on an empty stomach? Go on, have a guess at what I had for breakfast. Sozai Rarzai: Wha─ Gods, how’d you know!? It’s my breath, ain’t it? It probably smells as wooden as the food tasted… But I know why you’re here. (sigh) I’d just as soon get some real food in me, but I ain’t one to reject a summons from the cap’n.
Eyrimhus: Axes were made for splittin’ skulls, not stumps! You know what I did in my sailin’ days? Eyrimhus: You bet your bosom I did, lass! Aye, those were the days… (sigh) I reckon now I’ll have to be satisfied takin’ my axe to the trees.
Aylmer: So, Staelwyrn sent you. And what do you reckon I say to that? Aylmer: Damn right! Didn’t get where I am by takin’ guff from any glorified gardeners! …But I s’pose I could see what he wants to get him off my back.
Sevrin: Aye, I’m Sevrin. You the old man’s errand girl, now? Sevrin: Tell my dear old captain not to wet his britches. I’ll be along. Sevrin: Oh, and just so we’re clear─I don’t care for landlubbers. Go find the chocobo you rode in on, and ride on out.
Staelwyrn: You continue to impress, lass. All but Sevrin are accounted for. Staelwyrn: It’s no fault of yours he squirmed out. I’ve let that worm wriggle through my fingers more times than I can count. Staelwyrn: But rest assured, the next time I see him, I’ll put him squarely in the dirt, where all such worms belong.
Galfrid, chief instructor at the Bannock, wishes you to collect chigoe egg sacs.
Galfrid: Mortimer, injuries to several of my men have left me shorthanded, and I require a capable sort to complete their unfinished duty. Galfrid: The task is simple: put down as many of the local chigoe population as necessary to acquire three of their egg sacs. Galfrid: Having done so, you are to deliver them to Monranguin at Gilbert’s Spire. He will answer any queries you might have. Now, I have other business to attend to.
Monranguin: Ah, you must be the adventurer standing in for our injured companions. Terribly unfortunate business, that. Monranguin: It seems, however, that you had little trouble gathering the egg sacs in their stead. Excellent work. I shall have them sent over to the Trappers’ League immediately. Monranguin: Lest you wonder, these egg sacs are not destined for the dinner table! Members of the Twin Adder and the Wood Wailers are assisting the League by collecting the samples they need to check for signs of sickness. Monranguin: The chigoe, you see, is one of the few creatures capable of transmitting the disease known as the Creeping Death. Until relatively recently, any Hyur who contracted this ghastly illness would almost invariably perish. Monranguin: Indeed, a single outbreak once claimed the lives of a third of the Hyuran population here in Gridania. That was a long time ago, of course. With the medicines available to us now, the Creeping Death is not the killer it once was. Monranguin: Even so, it is best to halt any new outbreaks before they occur. Thus we gather chigoe eggs on a regular basis in order to assist the Trappers’ League with their ongoing research. Your timely assistance is most appreciated.
Cicidoa needs a reliable adventurer to deliver a gift to the Coffer & Coffin.
Cicidoa: You’re an adventurer, yes? If you’re not otherwise occupied, I’ve a favor to ask. I’ve resolved to repay a debt of gratitude, which I owe to the owner of the Coffer & Coffin. Cicidoa: For this purpose, I’ve purchased from the Royal Plantations a prodigiously plump pumpkin─a particularly popular piece of produce. Cicidoa: Alas, I cannot part this place to procure and proffer the pumpkin. You see, the scheduled shipment from the Nanawa Mines, for which I wait, is late. Cicidoa: I would prevail upon you to pick up the pumpkin in my stead, and see it safely to the Coffer & Coffin. Present this receipt of purchase to Gagari at the Royal Plantations, and she will yield it to you. Cicidoa: I apologize for asking you to attend to this time-consuming task, but I truly appreciate your assistance!
Gagari: If Cicidoa doesn’t come calling soon, this spectacular specimen shall sadly be past its prime… Gagari: Oh, so you’re to deliver this decadent delight? I can say with confidence that any gourmand would be grateful for such a grand gift. Gagari: Here is the pumpkin. I hope it meets with Roger’s approval. Gagari: Fresh produce is somewhat scarce in these parts, and as such we are always deluged with demand. Gagari: You know the way to the Coffer & Coffin, correct? It is beyond the bridge to the northwest. Look for a place where local laborers lounge.
Roger: Drink fer ye, lassie? Ye won’t get better ale or spirits fer yer coin than at me place. Roger: What’s that? Wee Cicidoa asked ye to bring this here to me? Ha! Heh, so even that foul-mouthed drunk knows the meanin’ o’ remorse. Reckon this is fer the time I carried his drink-sodden arse back home. Roger: But hells, an honest-to-gods pumpkin from the Royal Plantations! I can’t wait to see what the cooks’ll do with her. Roger: The lads here scoff down beastly amounts o’ meat, an’ it’s startin’ to tell on their health. It’ll be good to get more vegetables in their bellies─assumin’ I can get the stubborn bastards to try somethin’ new. Thanks fer the help, lassie!
Staelwyrn, the owner of Summerford Farms, has a task for a competent adventurer.
Staelwyrn: Ah, Croix. That aura of confidence tells me you’ve not been idle since last we met. Staelwyrn: I hope I’ve read you aright, for I’ve a task that requires the attention of a capable adventurer. Might that adventurer be you? Staelwyrn: Good to hear. Then I shall lay before you the sorry tale. Staelwyrn: You will have heard rumors of the abductions. Aye, citizens have been disappearin’ from every corner of Limsa Lominsa, as if plucked from the face of Hydaelyn, boots and all, by an unseen hand. Staelwyrn: And what’s this got to do with Summerford Farms, you might ask. Well, that remains to be seen, but it seems a collection of right unsavory fellows with azure-tattooed faces has been creepin’ up to the edges of the fields and spyin’ on my yeomen. Staelwyrn: Now, I doubt anyone would enjoy bein’ scrutinized by such savages at the best of times, but the farmhands are convinced that they’re the kidnappers of rumor, come for their hides. Staelwyrn: Needless to say, they’re beside ’emselves with worry, and their work’s sufferin’ for it─which is the very last thing I need when my old crewmen are still gettin’ used to their new jobs. ‘Tis a struggle to get ’em to leave the farmhouse of a mornin’. Staelwyrn: That is, as they say, where you come in. Would you be willin’ to investigate these tattooed thugs for me? Staelwyrn: Good lass. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the sooner this place will start to resemble a workin’ farm again. Staelwyrn: I suggest you begin by havin’ a look around Seasong Grotto. If reports are to be believed, our unwelcome visitors have occupied the place. Staelwyrn: Be careful, though, Croix─I couldn’t say for sure what manner of miscreants we’re dealin’ with here. If they are the kidnappers…well, just be on your guard, all right?
???: I am the waves that bear. I am the winds that guide. ???: I am the evening stars. I am the morning sky. I am born of the sea. And there shall I die. Cultured Conjurer: Thus reads the Sailors’ Requiem carved into yonder stone. Cultured Conjurer: Such words well describe the manner in which the citizens of Limsa Lominsa live their lives. Cultured Conjurer: It is both a litany against misfortune for those out on the waves… Cultured Conjurer: …and a prayer that the souls of those who perish on land might find their way back to the sea. Cultured Conjurer: Ah, you are the adventurer I’ve seen around Summerford Farms. Cultured Conjurer: I thought myself on the trail of the kidnappers, but it would seem I have missed my mark. Cultured Conjurer: …Or perhaps not. Cultured Conjurer: As I suspected, the aetheric disturbance here is no natural occurrence. Cultured Conjurer: Nor is it a coincidence that the two of us should come here in search of those responsible for the disappearances only to be attacked. Cultured Conjurer: But who stands to benefit from the keeping of this secret? Cultured Conjurer: Such thoughts must wait. Let us attend to the task at hand, unpleasant though it be.
Cultured Conjurer: Awake again, are we? Cultured Conjurer: Aha. The poor creature’s fury was kindled with cruel forethought. Cultured Conjurer: See this blade? I found it in the goobbue’s back. Cultured Conjurer: I have seen knives of this kind before─they are most commonly used for the cutting of rope. Cultured Conjurer: It would appear our culprits are seafaring men of some persuasion…piratical being the most probable. Cultured Conjurer: In any event, you seem much recovered from your sudden…affliction. Cultured Conjurer: I confess, I was rather taken aback when you collapsed at the very moment of our victory. Mayhap a surfeit of aether…? Cultured Conjurer: I beg your pardon? A “towering crystal”? I’m sure I don’t─ Oh. Cultured Conjurer: Well, well… This has been a day of unexpected revelations. Cultured Conjurer: I must continue my investigation. Cultured Conjurer: In the meantime, I suggest you deliver this knife to your patron, along with a warning concerning the pirates’ probable involvement in this murky business. Cultured Conjurer: The days ahead promise little rest, I fear… Cultured Conjurer: May our paths cross again under the light of the Crystal.
Staelwyrn: Croix! Right glad am I to see you safely returned! Staelwyrn: My lads were all gabbin’ about hearin’ what sounded like all seven hells breakin’ loose near the grotto, and I feared I’d sent you to your death. Staelwyrn: If you were in the middle of that commotion, I hope it yielded somethin’ of interest. I’d hate to think you’d risked your life for naught.
Staelwyrn: Hmmm… A blade pulled from the back of a creature you slew at the cave, eh? Staelwyrn: Aye, I’d agree that such a knife would be part of any seafarin’ man’s kit. Staelwyrn: I’m startin’ to think that these ruffians are pirates, come to lure my farmhands back to a life of plunder. Chances are, they didn’t take kindly to your appearance on their doorstep, and set a maddened goobbue on you. Staelwyrn: Aye, the pirates have been addin’ to their numbers of late. I’d best warn the lads and lasses in my employ to be on guard against their schemes. Staelwyrn: …Hm? You met someone else at the grotto? A woman with a strange contraption…? Ah…Y’shtola! Staelwyrn: She’s been in Limsa Lominsa for a good while now. Her studies of the aether often bring her out to Summerford, so her presence at the grotto is hardly unusual. Staelwyrn: She’s an odd-lookin’ lass, I grant you, but she’s not the kind to associate with kidnappers. You may take my word for that. Staelwyrn: Where trust should be lackin’ is in those yeomen of mine who have yet to wholly relinquish their pirate pasts. The temptation to return to the free and easy life of a buccaneer may prove too strong to resist. Staelwyrn: You have my thanks, Croix. If it weren’t for the efforts of stalwart adventurers like yourself, this farm would be in a far worse state than it is. Staelwyrn: Just you keep on lendin’ your talents to those in need, eh? Help bring Limsa the brighter future she deserves.
Galfrid needs an adventurer to investigate suspicious activity in the Twelveswood.
Galfrid: Ah, Mortimer. By your tireless efforts, you have proven yourself a friend to Gridania. I believe you can be trusted with sensitive intelligence. Galfrid: I would assign you a mission of considerable import, yet the need for secrecy prevents me from disclosing its details until you have pledged your participation. I am authorized to tell you only that it concerns suspicious activity in the Twelveswood. Say that you will lend us your aid, and I shall proceed with the briefing. Galfrid: Good. Time is of the essence, so listen well. Galfrid: You will by now have heard that a suspicious individual has been seen prowling the Twelveswood. Galfrid: And you may also be aware that Ixali activity has risen sharply in the region of late. What you may not know is that this increase coincided almost exactly with the first recorded sighting of the aforementioned individual. Galfrid: Suspecting a connection, we tightened our surveillance in hopes of tracking down our unknown visitor. Alas, our quarry is proving to be exceedingly elusive─almost as if he knows our movements ahead of time. Galfrid: But where whole units have failed, a lone adventurer may yet succeed. Acting independently and covertly, you may be able to close in on our quarry unnoticed. Galfrid: Fear and anxiety are beginning to take their toll upon the citizenry, Mortimer. For their sake, I ask that you aid us in this investigation. Galfrid: You have my gratitude. With your help, I am hopeful we will shed light upon this mystery. Galfrid: Begin your search at Lifemend Stump. It is there that the majority of the sightings took place. Galfrid: Be forewarned: my people cannot offer you support, lest our quarry catch scent of our presence and evade us yet again. Proceed with caution.
???: Look! Someone’s already here! Animated Pugilist: Oh dear. Is that a sword in the stump? Bad idea. Really bad idea… Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Is this our dark stranger? Moogle: No, no, not this one. Not even close, kupo! Animated Pugilist: Hm? You know him, Kuplo Kopp? Kuplo Kopp: Well, not exactly, but we did once share a carriage. Isn’t that right? Animated Pugilist: How are the readings? Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Same as the last. There is a disturbance here as well, and newly manifested at that. Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Kuplo Kopp seems convinced of your innocence. But if this isn’t your doing, whose is it? Animated Pugilist: Ever since the Calamity, the forest’s been really sensitive. Animated Pugilist: The slightest disruption to the aetheric flow… Animated Pugilist: And this sort of thing happens! Short-tempered Thaumaturge: It seems we have little choice… Short-tempered Thaumaturge: You fainted. A surfeit of aether, no doubt. Animated Pugilist: Hm? And what have we here? Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Our culprit, it would seem. An Ixal. And no ordinary Ixal, either─a chieftain. Short-tempered Thaumaturge: That they would venture this deep into enemy territory… The beastmen may indeed be acting under orders. Animated Pugilist: How are we feeling, then? Better? Good! Animated Pugilist: Giant crystals? Can’t say I’ve seen any… Are you sure you’re feeling better? Short-tempered Thaumaturge: …Understood. Over and out. Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Kuplo Kopp. Please bear word of these developments to Brother E-Sumi-Yan. We shall soon return to give a full report. Kuplo Kopp: Understood! Over and out, kupo! Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Here is where we part ways. Till next time, take care! Animated Pugilist: I think that sword might be a clue! You should definitely pull it out and take it back to the Bannock! Animated Pugilist: You don’t suppose that adventurer could see Kuplo Kopp, do you!? Short-tempered Thaumaturge: And this occurs to you NOW!? Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Yes. It seemed that way. Time will tell… Animated Pugilist: Well, time will have to, because you won’t! You never tell me what’s really going on! Unless…you don’t know what’s going on either! Short-tempered Thaumaturge: Bah! You’d like that, wouldn’t you!?
Galfrid: Mortimer! It is good to see you back! Galfrid: One of our patrols sent word that you had been spotted doing battle with enraged treants. I am relieved to find you none the worse for the experience. Galfrid: But tell me, what were you able to discover at Lifemend Stump? Galfrid: A sword in the stump, and a dead Ixal? Hmmm… Galfrid: I can say with absolute certainty that this blade is of Ixali origin. It is of a kind used exclusively in the beastmen’s rituals. Galfrid: The Ixal rarely set foot in the Central Shroud, so tight is our guard over the area. What purpose could have driven them to take such a risk? I fear something is afoot… Galfrid: What’s that? A dubious couple sporting peculiar spectacles? Hah hah hah! Galfrid: So you have finally been acquainted with Yda and Papalymo! Lay your suspicions to rest─Gridania counts them among her staunchest allies. Both are scholars hailing from a distant land, and have been with us since before the Calamity. Galfrid: Their garb may appear outlandish, and their exchanges baffling, but never once have they given us cause to doubt them. Galfrid: Indeed, they often assist the Gods’ Quiver and the Wood Wailers in their work─much as I hope you will in the days to come, Mortimer. Galfrid: Although our unknown visitor eludes us still, owing to your efforts, we have acquired important intelligence on the Ixali threat. You have my gratitude. Galfrid: We are fortunate indeed to have a capable adventurer such as you aiding us. I pray you will continue to serve the people of Gridania in whatever capacity you are able.
Papashan: Marion, I have just this moment─ No! No, the time for concealment is past! The truth is, even before I had you deliver those pretzels, I was privy to some most unsettling news! Papashan: …Which is the real reason I sent you to meet those Sultansworn. Papashan: A young noblewoman from a very prestigious family has run away from home, and I have been ordered to see to her safe return. Papashan: The Sultansworn you met earlier are assisting with the search. Alas, it seems they have found no trace of her. Papashan: I apologize for not being frank with you from the start, but we must proceed with caution─should word of her disappearance spread, I fear others with less honorable motives may join the hunt. Papashan: And should we allow her to come to any harm, not even a hundred beheadings would be punishment enough… Papashan: That cannot happen, Marion. It must not! Papashan: I need you to help me find her! Papashan: Praise the Twelve, I knew I could count on you! Papashan: I’ve instructed the others to expand the search, but Thanalan is vast and there are only so many of us. Papashan: The young noblewoman’s name is Lady Lilira. I want you to go south and look for her in the vicinity of the Sultantree. Good luck!
Hooded Lalafell: O Sultantree… Lilira: O Sultantree, hallowed spirit of my line, forgive my weakness. My failings have cost us dear… Lilira: Show yourself! ???: As you command, O Lilira. ???: Forgive my selfish desire to assure your welfare. Lilira: I don’t recall requesting an escort! Simply pretend we never met and continue on your way. ???: We both know I can do no such thing. It isn’t safe for you here alone. ???: It isn’t safe for anyone─not with this aetheric disturbance… It’s as though the dead are watching us… ???: And I’d prefer not to join them, if it’s all the same to you. ???: Ah, you must be the one that Papashan mentioned. Congratulations on finding our elusive young charge. ???: You’ll have to forgive Her Impetuousness. What she lacks in discipline, she makes up for in stubbornness. ???: You should return with us. The stationmaster will be eager to thank Lady Lilira’s protector in person. ???: Alas, the stationmaster will have to wait. ???: Dear Lilira, for my sake, please stay out of harm’s way. ???: As for you, dear friend─for Lilira’s sake─please stay in harm’s way! ???: Ah, coming around now. Lilira: Would you mind telling me what that was? ???: If I only knew. A denizen of the void, at any rate. Lilira: The voidsent? Here? But how? ???: The question isn’t “how,” but “who”─we’re not dealing with bookless bandits. ???: Don’t suppose the answer came to you in a dream? ???: No sooner did you fell the beast than you fell asleep. Too much aether, no doubt. ???: Interesting… I hadn’t considered the Crystal. ???: But of course… This changes everything. ???: Hm? Oh, just thinking aloud. At any rate, we haven’t a moment to spare. I must return and report this at once. ???: I leave Lady Lilira in your capable hands! Lilira: How dare you pass me about like a swaddled babe! Lilira: I shall return and tell them myself! ???: As you wish, Your Impetuousness. ???: I suspect we shall meet again before long. ???: Until then, do try and stay awake!
Papashan: Thank the gods you’ve returned! You had us all so worried! Papashan: You do realize what would happen if a person of your noble stature were to be injured─or worse? Papashan: Why, Her Grace the sultana would be beside herself with grief─and so would her subjects! I daresay they’d be weeping in the streets! Lilira: But I have already given you cause to weep, Papashan…you and the people of Ul’dah… Papashan: Please, Your─ You’re not to say such things! We will find it, I swear to you! Papashan: It is not my place to make demands, m-my lady, but I beg you, please stay out of harm’s way. Lilira: …I apologize for causing you undue worry, Papashan. I shall refrain from traveling unescorted in future. Papashan: I cannot thank you enough, Marion! Papashan: I understand you fought bravely to protect Lady Lilira from voidsent fiends. Papashan: For your gallant service, you deserve all the riches in the royal vaults. Alas, a small token of my gratitude is the best I can offer. Papashan: …Hm? A sarcastic man with a strange contraption strapped to his shoulder? Papashan: I see you met Thancred. He’s a scholar who spends his days investigating oddities in the aether. Rather too fond of the sound of his own voice for my liking, but perfectly harmless. Papashan: As for you, Marion─you’re just the sort of adventurer we need around here. Papashan: I pray you show the same kindness to the people of Thanalan as you did to us today.
Staelwyrn, owner of Summerford Farms, wishes to inspect your equipment and thereby gauge your readiness for the tasks he has in mind.
Staelwyrn: I’ve a mind to set you a task, Croix, but before I do, I need to be sure you’re properly kitted out. Staelwyrn: Pirates don’t care to parley with dandies, you understand. It might well be that the ones here have traded in their cutlasses for coulters, but they’re still rogues at heart. Staelwyrn: I know a solid set of gear when I see it. Come back when you think you’re more suitably equipped.
Staelwyrn: Let’s have a look at you, shall we? Staelwyrn: Oho! As long as you’re this well covered, I won’t feel any guilt throwin’ you to the sharks. Staelwyrn: Erstwhile buccaneers are an ornery lot. They rage in love for the sea, and care little for the laws of the land. Staelwyrn: But they respect strength, and by the looks of you, I’d say you’ll have little trouble gettin’ their attention.
Galfrid, chief instructor at the Bannock, wishes to inspect your equipment and thereby gauge your readiness for future missions.
Galfrid: I see you are eager to lend a hand, Mortimer. That is well. But I cannot in good conscience send you into the forest until I have established that your equipment is equal to the task. Galfrid: It bears repeating that, in the five years since the dawn of the Seventh Umbral Era, many of the Twelveswood’s creatures have transformed into vicious, bloodthirsty monsters. Venturing into the forest without the proper gear is tantamount to suicide. Galfrid: I suggest you take some time to evaluate your equipment. Once you deem your armor to be of sufficient quality, present yourself to me for inspection.
Galfrid: Ready for inspection are we? Right, then! Eyes forward! Back straight! Galfrid: Hmmm… Yes, I think you pass muster. Galfrid: You would be surprised at how many young, promising soldiers get themselves killed by rushing off into the woods without first donning a decent set of armor. Galfrid: Your equipment, however, should provide the required degree of protection. Consider yourself ready for duty, Mortimer.
Stationmaster Papashan has a simple task for a fledgling adventurer.
Papashan: Since you’ve come all this way, perhaps you can perform an errand for me. Papashan: It just so happens a number of sentries have been sent to guard the area. A dispatch to the Dispatch Yard, as it were. Papashan: They have long been away from the shade and featherbeds of the city. The hot days and cold nights can play hells on the mind and body out here. Papashan: It isn’t much, but go and give them these twilight pretzels, would you? I find comfort food always helps when I feel like killing myself.
Serious Sultansworn: Halt! Madam, I’m going to have to ask you to put the pretzel on the ground and place your hands above your head! Serious Sultansworn: State your name and business! A twilight pretzel from Papashan? By the gods, forgive me! You could say this new post has my nerves in a…twist. Serious Sultansworn: I’m…I’m terribly sorry for that. Ahem, yes, well, you may rest assured that the Dispatch Yard is safe so long as I stand watch. Serious Sultansworn: Please give Papashan my thanks, and tell him that I only wish I could repay the favor…
Servile Sultansworn: Twelve save me. Scorching days… Freezing nights… This post will be the end of me. Servile Sultansworn: A twilight pretzel? Don’t mind if I do! Servile Sultansworn: Ahhh, now that’s a refreshing godsdamned pretzel! I feel reborn!
Stern Sultansworn: Western front, clear! Eastern front, clear! Stern Sultansworn: For me? From Papashan? A twilight pretzel… My favorite! How did he know!? Stern Sultansworn: Can’t fight on an empty stomach, now, can I? Actually…I can’t fight on any stomach. I suppose you could say I have no stomach…for fighting.
Papashan: You’ve returned─and with a deal fewer pretzels, I see! Tell me, how fare our Sultansworn sentries? Did they have anything to report, anything at all!? Papashan: What? Nothing? Are you sure? I…oh, oh dear. Papashan: Take this for your troubles, then. And stay a moment─there is more I would ask of you.
Keishinrei 