The Ink Thief


Name: Hildibrand 1b - the Ink Thief
How to begin: talk to Mytesyn at the Mizzenmast
Areas: Limsa Lominsa

Last quest: -
Next quest: The Usual Suspect

Requirements to sign up: ?
Required items: Inkwell
Reward: access to Mizzenmast Inn


Coming soon



Ink Troubles

Mytesyn: Welcome to the Mizzenmas tInn!
First time staying with us at the Mizzenmast Inn? Then I'll need ye to sign the ledger proper. I've some ink for the quill right he-
Seven hells! It's that damned Qiqirn again! I swear to the Fury, if I ever catch that slippery rate, I'll skin his arse and boil his bloody bones down to glue!
Normally, I'd ask for yer help…but the last time I had an adventurer…er…dispose of someone, Baderon had be scrubbing soup pots in the galley for a fortnight.
I guess I'll have to settle with simply havin' ye getch me some more ink. If it ain't too much trouble, could you hie yerself down that flight of stairs o'er yonder and speak wiv a wee goblin peddler what goes by the name of Sweetnix?
(quest accept)
Mytesyn: That's me lad. didn't ken a 'venturer what weren't willin' to lend a helpin' hand.
Now, don't ye worry about the goblin. He won't bite ye none. Hells, the bugger's always wearin' that queer mask, so might be he doesn't even have a maw to nip ye wiv.
Truth be told, there ain't much can be said about the stocky lot, 'cept that they like them the jinglyshine - that be gil to you and me - and that they'd sell naught less than their own kin to get a handful of the stuff.
What are ye to buy the ink wiv? Oh, ye need not fet o'er that detail, me lad. Wee Sweetnix owes me a favor or two, and I reckon it be right time to call one in. You jus' tell the gobbie that ol' Mytesyn sent ye. Heh heh heh.

Mytesyn: Sweetnix sells his ill-gotten wares to those what frequent the Drownin' Wench. He's set up shop in that stairwell o'er yonder. Ye cannae miss him.

Goblin Trader

Sweetnix Rosycheeks: Pshhh… Shkohhh… Has romgiving rainlander need of undry wordpaint?
Sweetnix has much undry wordpaint! Undry wordpaint good for writing gobbietomes. Good for writing backwords!
Roomgiving rainlander trade many tongueflaps with Sweetnix. Has wideheart and widepurse!
Sweetnix gives all wordpan to roomgiving rainlander. Ninety and ten claypots, all for rainlander!
Ohohoho! Sweetnix is unremembering that uplander has only tinypack upon backchest, not widepack like gobbiepack. Ohohoho! Ninety and nine claypots must hurryback to gobbiepack! Ho ho ho!

Sweetnix Rosycheeks: Sweetnix aftertimes makes busydeal with lustyeyed uplander. Now, uplander walks with fastness to roomgiving rainlander before undry wordpaint is redrying!

Suspicious Activities

Mytesyn: Ye have a chat wiv Sweetnix? Quite a character, the bugger. Cannae comprehend a bleedin' word that spills from the gob's gob, but he's a good listener when he wants to be, and is quick to give his cullies a fair price when bargainin'.
Me? I's been in his good graces since he walked in one day wantin' to hear the tale of the Mizzenmast.
I told him what I'd heard from me mum when I was a wee sprat, and the gob, he sat there ears pricked up like a cur at a feast, waitin' for that first scrap to fall from the table. Scribbled down every last word, he did, but for what purpose, I cannae say.
What exactly did I tell him? No scrap of lore every last Lominsan doesn't already ken.
That the city of Limsa Lominsa was built from the wreckage of the mighty Galadion, which ran aground on the rocks of this very bay some seven hundred years past.
This tower we stand in now - the Mizzenmast - is called such because it was built by hollowing out the Galadion's actual mizzenmast. That should give ye a good idea of jus' how massive the original ship was.
Ah, sorry there, lad. Ye didn't come here for an 'istory lesson, did ye? Let me jot yer name down in the ledger, and I'll have one of me boys ready you a room straight away.
Ye can come and go anytime ye pelase. Our beds are the softest in the land, and I guarantee ye'll sleep like a babe at his muvver's warm teat.
Now, I've just one rule in me establishment, and that's no craftin'. Me patrons don't want to be kept up all night listenin' to you waxin' hafts, burnishin' brass, or poundin' steel.
And that's all! Thanks again for fetchin' me the ink!
(a suspicious character walks in to the Mizzenmast.)
Hildibrand: So, this is the famed Drowning Wench. Rustic, yes…but for the love of the Matron, what is that most loathly odor?
Could it be…a case?
You there! You appear distraguht, discomforted, dishevelled. Might it be that you find yourself entwined in a web of deceit? Lost in a labyrinth of villainy?
Mytesyn: Gah hah hah hah! Well, let us see. While I cannae rule out deceit, I'd say most of me ink shortages are a direct result of good ol' fashioned villainy. But thanks to this kind-hearted lad here, me worries are no more.
Hildibrand: Ah, well… That is unfortunate…I mean, wonderful. I suppose.
Oh, but where are my amnners! I have yet to give a proper introduction. My name is Hildibrand, agent of enquiry! Inspector extraordinaire!
I travel the realm, visiting inns and alehouses such as these, qulling quandaries where they may be found. I lift cares from shoulders and thwart dastardly deeds. Should troubles darken our door, summon me, for I am, and always will be, your humble servant.
(a miqo'te runs in and heads towards you)
Nashu Mhakracca: Inspector! The water in that big lake outside tastes funny. You think we should investigate?
Hildibrand: A poisoned lake you say!? Excellent work, lass! Come, we must hurry before some poor soul takes a sip! Good day, all!

Category: Quests


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