About pirate speech in Limsa.
This dialogue is from the "Into the Dark (Limsa)" 1.18 Grand Company quest
(Astalicia)
Hasthwab: Ye say 'tis passage into the reekin' depths of Dzemael Dark'old that ye seek? An' 'ow do I know ye aint' one o' them 'Cuda lapdogs, come t' lick me poxy arse an' call it cherries? There be those what think they can waltz umolested 'tixt our guild and that of the 'Cudas. Mark me: right gay be the babe what suckles at both 'is mother's paps at once - but where will 'e be when the fountains run dry, eh?
(Tell me, was that convincing? I'm always afraid that one of these days I'm going to forget to drop an aitch and find msyelf dangling from the crow's nest with a noose around my neck!)
(Oh, but where are my manners!? I am Private Hasthwab of the Knights of the Barracuda - or Hasthwab Twinfists of the Bloody Executioners, to our nemesis. Pleased to make your acquaintance!)
(Ah, but we must be brief! You came for information on the Faces of Mercy, yes? The infamous company of thieves, brigands, mercenaries, and outlaws who will do almost anything provided the fee is paid up front?)
(Well, it is said that they have connections within all the houses of Ishgard, and that those connections can grant them passage into the region's many restricted areas, including the Darkhold.)
(The crystal hoard rumored to be located deep within the caves has piqued the Faces' interest, and they are actively looking for new recruits to go on retrieval runs. If you don't mind the danger that accompanies such missions, this should prove the easiest path into the Darkhold.)
(The Faces of Mercy do not maintain a permanent headquarters, and they only communicate through a complex network of contacts. Each member will only know the names of three others, and no two members will know the same three. That way, if one is caught and tortured, he cannot divulge more than the bare minimum to his captors. Of my three contacts, the one most likely to assist you is a Woodwight named Quiliane. Look for her in the hamlet of Owl's Nest.)
Now sod off, ye scurvy rat, afore I slit yer gut an' use yer innards t' tie the sails! <wink>