Forename! How fortuitous that you should choose this moment to visit. Pray forgive my abruptness, but are you acquainted with Ishgard's watch and the commoners who fill its ranks?

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Truly? You've worked with Hilda before? Splendid, absolutely splendid. Let us then discuss the problem at hand.

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Following our fair city's shift to a more egalitarian form of government, there has been talk of arming the city watch with machinist weapons and equipment─the very type of initiative for which I have long advocated. And as part of this plan, I have been asked to provide a competent instructor.

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But as dearly as I wish to fulfill this request of Hilda's, I am afraid suitable candidates for the role are in woefully short supply.

And so, Forename, you must see why your presence here this day strikes me as something of a godssend. Who better to accept this position than our most accomplished machinist?

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I understand, of course, that you have your own business to attend to, and can hardly spend every waking moment training the watch. Thus do I intend to share your duties with our old friend Rostnsthal!

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Aside from his extensive knowledge of firearms, he was once the commodore of the Knights of the Barracuda─such experience should prove invaluable to the watch's leadership. He is the natural choice to serve as your partner in this enterprise.

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From what I've been told, our former instructor was recently spotted arriving in Idyllshire. Pray come along, Forename, and lend me a hand in persuading the foul-mouthed brigand to return to Ishgard!

Have you seen this place, Forename!? My prospectometer is simply overloaded by such potential! Why, the goblin technology amassed in the main square alone could keep me tinkering for days!

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...Ahem, not that we'll be here nearly that long. Rostnsthal is a striking fellow─someone is bound to have noticed him. Shall we ask around?

Can I interest you in a guided tour of─ Oh, just a question? Aye, I've seen such a man. He was just walking down this street, as a matter of fact.

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...Ah, big lad with an eyepatch, yes? I marked his passage as I would that of any dangerous beast. Stay your path, and you'll find him like as not.

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...I've seen your man. Headed into the Hard Place, he was, all swarthy and mysterious-like. <sigh> Had half a mind to follow him in there...

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Ah, I see you've kept one step ahead of me, Forename. At least this time around our dear instructor was not so damnably difficult to locate, eh?

I thought I 'eard me some familiar voices. Now what brings the two o' ye all the way out 'ere? Not just a yearnin' to glimpse this ugly mug again, that much is certain.

Astute as always, my friend. We have, in fact, come with an offer of employment...

Ye want me to teach trigger work again? Bugger that. Why don't ye 'ave Joye do it?

Joye is far too humble to fare well as an instructor, and is fully occupied by other manufactory business besides. You also have considerable experience with commanding a military company, if I am not mistaken.

Are ye bloody daft or did ye just forget? Me piss-poor leadership o' the 'Cudas is what ruined me reputation in the first place. D'ye honestly reckon a man like me is fit to take charge o' trainin' yer city watch?

...Then, this means you accept!?

Trim yer sails there, boss. I'll make me final decision after I've 'ad a chat with this lass what leads the watch.

It seems we must arrange a meeting with Hilda. Would you mind handling the introductions?

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My thanks! Now I really should be getting back to the workshop─I've a small mountain of munitions to make if I'm to honor all these commissions! Do the manufactory proud, my friends!

Ugh, an' just when I was gettin' bleedin' warm again. I'll see ye in Ishgard, Forename.

Are we clear, or must I repeat myself in simple terms? I expect very little from your lowborn riffraff. If you wish to serve Ishgard, then know your place...and keep well out of our way.

Bastard blue blood...
He'd not wag his tongue like that if his boss was around!

And a fine day to you, Forename─a little bird told me you'd be on your way. The lads and lasses were well pleased to hear they'd be learnin' at the foot of Ishgard's savior.

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And you must be Rostnsthal, eh? I'll warn you right now: the watch is a raw lot. They ain't used to formal trainin', and you'll need to work 'em hard before they'll count for more than cannon fodder.

Work 'em hard, ye say? I do things the pirate way, lass. I'll have 'em pissin' blood and wailin' for their mums by first bell.

We'll see about that! I don't know about Limsa's back alleys, but the Brume's not a place what suffers wiltin' daisies. What my lot lack in skill, they make up for in spirit!

Ha! I like a challenge! Now, tell me more about 'ow this watch of yers fits into Ishgard's defenses.

That's where the watch comes in. We've been somethin' of an independent operation till now, but the Houses want to put us on the payroll. They mean to use our numbers to plug the holes in the walls, as it were.

And the best part is we get paid to do more of what we was doing for naught! Coin in our purses and food in our bellies! Can't complain about that!

Aye, but the arrangement's not to everyone's likin'. There's inquisitors and nobles alike lookin' to trip us up at every turn. They ain't keen on the idea of commoners bein' armed and organized.

Hmph. I reckon the only way to shut those bastards down is by convincin' everyone else that the watch is somethin' worth keepin'. But if we mean to prove ourselves, we need proper equipment and trainin'.

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That's why I took most of the coin we'd been given, and went beggin' to Lord Haillenarte. Now we have firearms, and two clever blighters to teach us how to use them.

...Aye, I've 'eard enough. Ye can't properly protect folk what don't recognize yer authority. Just do as ol' Rostnsthal says, an' we'll soon teach them bastards to respect ye.

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'Ere's what we're goin' to do first. Gather a crew o' yer finest lads an' lasses, an' slap a name on 'em─one what'll get them naysayers to sit up an' take notice.

What, you mean an elite company like the Dragoons or the Heavens' Ward? I reckon a good name might impress some of the highborn, but I'll be buggered if I can think of one...

Hmmm, well, let's see...
'Ow about 'Ilda's 'Ounds.

...Oh, you mean “Hilda's Hounds”? Well, I do like the sound of that! What do you say, lads?

As soon as they've 'andpicked a crew for the 'Ounds, I'll start teachin' 'em the basics. Then after they've 'ad a chance to learn barrel from stock, ye can come back an' test their skills. Sound like a fair division o' labor?

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Right, then. I'll whip 'em into shape afore ye know it. Let's see just 'ow tough these Brume-born bastards really are...