Sarlat's Whale

What is this nonsense about pinching Whale Oil? Is it because Collette’s got your nuts in a vice? You’re with the only lass in Sarlat who could kill me with her bodyweight. Look, I shouldn’t even be writing this down, but since you’re apparently too thick to nick it yourself without a bloody map and a butler’s handbook, here’s the lay of the land, you useless article. The threshers need the stuff in the Tithe Barn, so you’ll find a couple of lamps there - easy pickings if you’ve still got fingers that don’t shake like a conscript. There’s more in Garnier’s Windmill, obviously. And I swear I saw them sloshing it about like cheap brandy when they were doing the late counting of the crop at Garnier’s Farm the other night. Just don’t get caught, because if old Garnier finds out you’ve been light-fingering his oil, he’ll have you strung up by the balls and flogged raw before breakfast. At best. Then there’s the Well, of course. You haunt that place often enough as it is. And the chapel… heaven help you, you godless bastard. Stealing from the Church? Low. That’s very, very low. I’m not visiting you in the stocks, mate. Not again. Sort yourself out. And remember, I run a clean ship. Clean Prosper