The Captain of Her Heart

Quest giver: Deputy Postmoogle
Location: Limsa Lominsa Lower Decks (X:10.4, Y:11.3)
Quest line: Delivery Moogle Quests
Level: 50

Experience: 0
Gil: 879
Patch: 2.38

“

Ah, to have the trust of the diminutive Deputy Postmoogle! For this you would gladly risk the roughest cutthroats in outer La Noscea, yes, you would.

— In-game description

Steps

Deliver the letter to Sergeant Swygrael.
Find the miniature marauder in the Floating City of Nym.
Report to Sergeant Swygrael.
Speak with Ratata.
Speak with the Salthound Stevedore.
Speak with Ratata.
Speak with the Salthound Stevedore.
Speak with Sergeant Swygrael.

Journal

Ah, to have the trust of the diminutive deputy postmoogle! For this you would gladly risk the roughest cutthroats in outer La Noscea, yes, you would.

There is a letter addressed to Sergeant Swygrael, which you must deliver forthwith in spite of the postmoogle's airy talk of baleful glances and untamed corsairs.

The sergeant of the Red Swallows takes the letter with a thanks and a stream of curses. The unit's recruiting drive has apparently been less successful than she would like. The sergeant's last hope may currently be facing difficulties among the Nymian ruins. This so-called miniature marauder would no doubt appreciate any assistance you can render her.

The marauder was indeed under attack by a trio of kobolds as vicious as-- well, as herself. Rabid Ratata may be aptly named and best avoided, but a compliment from a fighter so feral must be taken as high praise. Follow her back to Camp Overlook and see if Sergeant Swygrael has further use of your talents.

Sergeant Swygrael has her quota of lumber but not muscle. Her attempts to woo the strange Salthound have fallen as dead and flat as the young Lalafell's eyes. Speak with this killer born and bred, and see whether she can be coaxed to join the Red Swallows.

Ratata's tendency to bring up one's mortality is something of a conversation killer. Walk off the unfortunate pun by speaking to the one they call the Salthound stevedore, whose paternal concern for his captain belies his fearsome countenance.

The stevedore shares Swygrael's desire to see Ratata take her place among the Red Swallows and learn something of life beyond the next dying scream and the company of Salthounds. Surely, one so fearless as Ratata can be persuaded, if not goaded, to fly the nest.

If Ratata is indeed a mad dog, there is a method to her madness. She has reasons enough to refuse Swygrael's offer, this you cannot deny. The stevedore may grieve to hear that the wider world holds no interest for her, but the father's heart in him will rejoice to know the deadly apple of the Salthounds' eye will remain in Poor Maid's Mill.

After your conversation with the stevedore, he and Ratata begin the return journey to the Mill, both lighter of heart. As for you-- you, who know the enigmatic killer's secret-- sleep will not come easily tonight. Try to forget her obsidian stare, and tell Sergeant Swygrael that she will not have the miniature marauder under her command, not this day and not ever.

The Red Swallows may be poorer for Ratata's refusal, but Swygrael is a soldier enough to see the tactical advantages in the lethal Lalafell's presence in Poor Maid's Mill. Short-handed they may be, the Maelstrom can get on without her; unfortified as it is, the Mill cannot.

Dialogue

Accepting the Quest

Deputy Postmoogle: All the realm knows, the deputy postmoogle has nothing but confidence in his assistants! I shall entrust you with a letter so important, they had to cross the “T” twice, kupo!
Deputy Postmoogle: The letter is for a Maelstrom sergeant at Camp Overlook! Pirates, pirates, everywhere, terribly exciting─and terrifically dangerous. I love my aaarghs and mateys as much as the next moogle, but I have pressing duties elsewhere, kupo!
Deputy Postmoogle: This Sergeant Swygrael is scarier than most. Why, I used to vanish right into thin air whenever she turned her bloodshot eyes my way. Thanks to aspiring carriers like yourself, I needn't do that again, kupo!
Deputy Postmoogle: You will take the letter to Sergeant Oh-so-scary. Are we understood, kupo?
(Optional)
Deputy Postmoogle: Deliver the letter to Sergeant Swygrael at Camp Overlook. Happy message-carrying, kupo!
Deputy Postmoogle: What's that? Is Camp Overlook a dangerous sort of place? Absolutely, oh yes, full of roughnecks! A perfect opportunity for my trusty assistant to go in my stead, kupo!

Delivering the letter to Sergeant Swygrael

Swygrael: Delivery? Is that what they're callin' it now, sweet thing? Oh, a letter, eh? Thanks. Useful things, better than creamer's rum for puttin' me to sleep. Give it here.
<Hand Over Letter to Swygrael>
Swygrael: “No thank you, I've taken up farming”? Curse you, matey, and your godsdamned letter! Rip it in half and water it with piss, see if somethin' grows! Farmin', he says, farmin' he chooses over the Red Swallows? Gods damn him and his shrinkin' violet balls!
Swygrael: Now, where are my manners? Left 'em on land when I went to sea, come back and the swivin' things hadn't waited a fortnight before goin' off with someone else. I got reasons to take the news hard, treacle tart. We don't got enough men...or women, mind ye.
Swygrael: Not going to recruit just anybody though, we bein' the meanest, nail-chewingest levy in the whole damn Maelstrom. No offense an' all, but we ain't interested in a sugar skull like the one atop yer shoulders.
Swygrael: So out came the paper and ink and out went them letters to likely roughnecks what retired from privateerin'─and not by the way o' the scaffold. No, no, and more no. That was the last, but one.
Swygrael: As for that last one...the bloodthirsty bitch should've been here long 'fore now. Set out from the Mill to bring some lumber to the camp with another Salthound, they said.
Swygrael: Sweet face or no, you got land sense, you do. Oi, do us a good turn, eh? I'll wager the miniature marauder ran into a spot o' trouble out near yon Floatin' City. Help 'em out and I may start feeling grateful-like!

Optional Dialogue

Swygrael: I've got a job for ye. Go on out to the Nymian ruins, help the miniature marauder get here in one piece.

Salthound Stevedore: Not a good day to die...not for me and not for her, by the bloody salt...

Finding the miniature marauder in the Floating City of Nym (Cutscene)

Miniature Marauder: Ye took me kill. Ye didn't. Even. Ask.

Salthound Stevedore: Now don't be like that, Cap'n. You was pressed, you know that. I'd say that deserves our thanks, at the least.

Miniature Marauder: The bloody bastard took me kill. I like being pressed. Sends a tingle up me thighs, it does. If ye want to thank the bastard fer savin' yer knickers from a right soilin', ye go on and be me swivin' guest.

Salthound Stevedore: I 'pologize, the cap'n has never been one for social graces, what with all the killing and marauding. Thank you kindly from both of us for lending a hand.

Miniature Marauder: Ye've the look of a fine killer, though. Sharin' slaughter's not as bad when yer shadow's an appetite fer carnage.

Salthound Stevedore: Well, if salt ain't sweet! The cap'n don't usually have a good word for anyone outside our humble crew.
Salthound Stevedore: Sergeant Swygrael sent you? Why, that's another surprise, she's not the sort to watch the clock hands. But Ratata's your miniature marauder, sure as salt.
Salthound Stevedore: We ha'n't had much truck with time, down at the Mill. Poor Maid's Mill─abandoned it was, when we Salthounds settled in to make a new life. A ghost town? No, adventurer. For old pirates, the only ghosts are out on the open water.
Salthound Stevedore: And even for not-so-old pirates, like that one. Oh, I know what they call her, “Rabid Ratata,” “Mad Dog of the Mill,” and they ain't wrong, but...
Salthound Stevedore: She got nothing but fighting in her blood...which is why I worry... 'Twas the cap'n's idea to clean our hands of reaving and start a new life at the Mill.
Salthound Stevedore: Damn it, now I've gone and put her in one of her moods. Time to haul anchor! We're for Camp Overlook, adventurer.

(Optional)
Salthound Stevedore: Ahoy, adventurer. You was a big help back Nym wise, thank you. Can you believe, Sergeant Swygrael offered the cap'n a berth in the Red Swallows? Now, if only she had the sense to say yes.

Reporting to Sergeant Swygrael

Swygrael: Oi, there you are. Got me lumber thanks to ye─but not me new recruit. Weren't forsaken for farmin', that's some swivin' comfort, but bugger if I know why she said no.
Swygrael: Got her hackles up, that one. My ma always said, every dog needs a little pettin', a little treatin'. A bit o' salt beef from a new friend? Might do, might do. How about it, sweet thing, are ye up for talking to her?

(Optional)
Swygrael: Talk to that damned Salthound, will ye? I'm offerin' her a place in the Red Swallows, gods damn it. She don't have to be grateful but ain't nothing to spit at.

Speaking with Ratata

Ratata: You. Ye took me kill. I dinnae like that. But ye fought like a Salthound, so ye have me ear until I grow tired of ye.
Ratata: Hmph. Ye damned adventurers are all alike. More words than sense. Well, if it's words ye wish to waste, waste 'em on the stevedore. He's thrice the patience of all us hounds combined.

Speaking with the Salthound stevedore

Salthound Stevedore: Not interested, eh? Think well of her, if you can. The cap'n is what we made her, like as not.
Salthound Stevedore: Her mama got her chest stove in boarding a merchantman, and the very next moon, what does her papa do but make a right mess of the steps of some rathskeller? And she but a swaddling babe. Born on a pirate ship, raised up by pirates, weren't no life for a child.
Salthound Stevedore: I can still see her toddling along the gun deck, or swinging her wee axe with the blunt edge. Didn't stay blunt for long. And never another child to play with. We should've put her ashore for fostering, but we ha'n't the heart to.
Salthound Stevedore: Got nothing but marauding in her veins, aye. We tried to show her how other folk live, draw her out a bit, but...'fore we knew it, she'd gutted the former captain and taken his place at the fore.
Salthound Stevedore: I'd be lying if I didn't say part of me feels it'd be good for her to join the Red Swallows, though we'd be heartsore to lose her. She'll have her battles, make boon companions. She'd be a swallow instead of a dog. As fer us, we'll find ourselves a new cap'n. We always do.
Salthound Stevedore: You wasn't scared of Ratata the way most are. That's why she liked you, I know it. Can't you talk to her again? You'll find her near the Floatin' City, she likes the air there...and the prey.

(Optional)
Salthound Stevedore: Will you talk to Ratata again about joining the Swallows? She's out Nym wise.

Speaking with Ratata (Cutscene)

Ratata: You again. I could kill ye. I can kill most things if I'm in the mood.
Ratata: Let me serve it to ye straight, like. I don't need them Red Swallows. 'Tis them what needs me is all.
Ratata: I know me men call me rabid. Does it look like I care a whit and a half? I know I ain't the sick one.
Ratata: Dogs is loyal. I kill for them Salthounds. I kill for me family. I dinnae ken what Red Swallows kill for. That's sick, if ye ask me.
Ratata: Maybe I'd kill for you sometime. That might be right agreeable.
Ratata: <sigh> 
Enough words. I'm headin' home.
Ratata: Ye keep that gob o' yers clapped or I'll find a dead rat to stuff it with.

(Optional)
Ratata: A good hound keeps his maw shut. You a good hound, 'venturer? Or a dead one?

Speaking with the Salthound stevedore (Cutscene)

Salthound Stevedore: Any luck, adventurer? The cap'n hasn't uttered a word since she came back from Nym.
Salthound Stevedore: Let me guess─this dog won't fly, eh? It breaks my heart to see her becalmed like this. A young girl shouldn't be holed up in a hamlet with nothing but axes for company. I suppose she ain't no young girl anymore...
Salthound Stevedore: Well, we'd best be on our way, back to Poor Maid's Mill. Give Sergeant Swygrael my 'pologies.

Speaking with Sergeant Swygrael

Swygrael: Sweet Navigator, no, no, and no! If one swallow don't make a summer, what's no swallow make? All that work and not one recruit won! Still...if Ratata's there, we won't have to worry none about the Mill. Not even a kobold's brain-blown enough to take the place when she's about.
Swygrael: Not the finest hour for the Red Swallows...swive 'em that don't know what they're missin'! Mayhap I need to rethink our recruitin' standards, seven hells. Lower 'em a bit, try out a few weaklings, real solybubbes...
Swygrael: Might work, if I can get the Swallows to take it easy on the sweetlings. Maybe train 'em separate-like for a while...?
Swygrael: Try as I might, I don't see it working. Be like putting tar in grog, calling it as good as! Jes' going to have to divvy up extra duties, be patient...

System: With your successful delivery, your reputation as a letter carrier has grown!