Mountains out of Molehills

Mountains out of Molehills

Quest giver

S'nairoh

Location

Western La Noscea (X:26, Y:25)

Level

15

Experience

 1,440

Gil

 239

Previous quest

Keep Your Day Job

Next quest

Walk of Shame

Patch

2.0

“

Storm Private S'nairoh smells of salt, malt, and bad ideas, and appears intent on securing your services again.

— In-game description

Rewards

Choose one of the following options:

• 1   Padded Hempen Trousers
• 1   Cotton Sarouel
• 1   Cotton Tights
• 3   Allagan Bronze Piece

Steps

• Dispatch hedgemoles. 0/5
• Report to S'nairoh.

Journal

• Storm Private S'nairoh smells of salt, malt, and bad ideas, and appears intent on securing your services again.

• Despite your misigivings(sic), you accept a task from S'nairoh. Leave her to her dubious schemes and slay five hedgemoles.

• With the grace of the Twelve, you prevailed against these mostly harmless creatures. Report the happy news to S'nairoh.

• The hedgemoles had no designs on Aleport. They must be commended for fighting so bravely for their lives. Not all is lost, since the good private will now spend her diminished coin on leeches rather than ale.

Walkthrough

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Dialogue

Accepting the Quest

S'nairoh: Well, I made a right mess of things the other day. Commander Falkbryda said she'd dock my pay if I pulled something like that again. At least I didn't get tossed in the brig like C'mell.
S'nairoh: I have been very chary since, you can be certain of that. I've little enough coin as is in the pay purse to slake my thirst with. But this time, aye, there's a real attack on Aleport, and off I go to arm the cannon!
S'nairoh: Save Aleport from those bloodpaths on four legs, and we'll see what the commander has to say about my pay then!
S'nairoh: Adventurer, for Aleport and glory, slow down the horde! I'm certain to be ready by the time you slaughter five!

Reporting to S'nairoh

S'nairoh: Well slayed! Or do I mean slain? I shall need to know these things if I'm to be officer! I've got the powder and ball loaded and primed! Now for the slow match—hark, a dispatch!
S'nairoh: "Stand down forthwith"? Not again! But surely these adamantoises are a clear and present—
...Hedgemoles? You're certain? Well, but, that's like an adamantoise except, ah, weak and not at all dangerous...
S'nairoh: Why, oh why? Perhaps I have been cursed by some enemy? Not very likely for a mere storm private, second class or no. Now the commander will dock my pay and leave my whistle dry as dust.
S'nairoh: Well, my good man/woman, it is called Aleport. I've spent a deal of time admiring the undersides of many a tavern table, I can tell you that!
S'nairoh: What? It could be that my humours are out of blanace from a surfeit of ale? And thus—I see it now—there is excess blood, which has overfed my martial zeal! [First name], your learned ways have shown me the light! Much thanks—I go now to receive a leeching!