[1st of Evening Star, Mor Khazgur] Tarvyn Visits the Stronghold for Krognaz

Tarvyn and Vulwulf arrive at the gates of Mor Khazgur, Tarvyn is going over in his head over and over what he's ordering from them.

A female Orsimer yells out, "Hold, outlander. What brings you to Mor Khazgur?"

“I've come to request some of your Orichalc for a friend, I have a letter written by him with a Bloodseal if you need proof.”

"An Orc gave you his Bloodseal and let you wander freely with it?" She spots the Companion. "Hello, Vulwulf. You're with elf?"

“The Orsimer at Narzulbur were equally as dubious as you yet we still did business.”

"Hmmph. Narzulbur is far too outsider-friendly. They think their Ebony makes them Malacath's own favorites. They'll let anyone with coin buy it." She comes outside the stronghold, one hand on her axe and the other out, palm up, clearly waiting to see Tarvyn's proof.

Vulwulf emits a low growl, and Tarvyn quickly tells him to stop, “Vulwulf, enough!”

Tarvyn reaches into his robes and takes out the letter. “Here it is,” Tarvyn hands it to the female Orsimer.

She glances at the hulking Nord. "Here for business then, wolf? Pity."

“He's my escort; someone had to keep a stranger safe in these lands.”

"Mmmm. No one quite like Vulwulf to make you feel safe and secure."

She lets out a short, throaty laugh.

Vulwulf shifts uncomfortably.

She glances over the Bloodseal inscription. "Of course. Cyrodiilic. They're tame down south." She sees Dushnamub's jot. "DUSHNAMUB himself gave you this?"

Tarvyn is surprised. “Well... yes, is that a big deal? He was rather amicable after I fixed one of their smelters. Err, what was that about Vulwulf?”

"That explains it. Well, come in, I suppose. I imagine you're here for Shuftharz. Why don't you two talk business in private? I'll keep your wolf occupied."

“Uhh... Alright?”

Vulwulf looks less than enthused.

She leads the way through the stronghold, pointing the elf to Shuftharz' work area, then head towards the longhouse. "Coming, Vulwulf? Or would you rather hear talk of metal and coin?"

Vulwulf mulls it over and decides to go with her.

Tarvyn heads towards Shuftharz' work area.

Shuftharz spots the elf headed her way. "Here to buy metal?"

“For a friend yes, I don't suppose you know the name Krognaz?” "Never heard of him. He recommend you to me? Smart fellow. Best armor in Skyrim comes off my table. And weapons to match it."

“He said in his letter: ‘Mor Khazgur's smelter refines their Orichalc to degree of purity found rarely elsewhere’, I think he thinks highly of your work.”

"What's his family name? Makoza?"

“As a matter of fact, it is, Krognaz gro-Makoza.”

"Ahhh. Forgot his first name. Did remember he wore his mother's name, not his father's. Good smith. Used to come by every couple years. Always appreciated our metal, he did."

“He's asked me to stop by to place a rather large order for him.”

"So ingots only, I imagine. I never could get him to buy our finished work."

“Ingots only is correct, about 100 of them to be exact.”

"We've only got about sixty at his quality. There are about twenty halfway done refining and I have twenty units of raw ore. I can sell you the partially-refined ingots and ore at reduced cost, and ship immediately, or he can wait."

“That isn't a problem, I don't think he expected me to come back with them; the smith at Narzulbur informed me that they'd finish smelting the ingots and have them sent to the Scholar's Guild's island.”

"He left Cyrodiil City? He had stronger roots there than a century oak. For scholars you say? Well well. Next you'll tell me he took a wife."

“No wife as far as I know, but he does live with an Alfiq he met in the war.”

"Hmm. Knowing Krognaz he wants exactly what he ordered. And he can afford it. Lucky bastard. We'll get another forty ingots refined and ship out. For Krognaz, and for delay, I'll cut 10S off each of the forty."

“Alright, so how much will it be for all of it?”

”Sixty at 40S apiece is 2400S. Forty at 30S each is 1200S, 3600S in all. Krognaz gets the transport bill, not us.”

“Alright, I'll call for my-” Tarvyn stops and remembers that Vulwulf is... occupied. “I'll grab the money and be right back. He won't have a problem with paying the cost of transportation.”

Tarvyn returns with the money in hand, 3600 septims, the agreed cost.

"Thank you very much. Wait. Guild of Scholars, you say?"

“Yes, I'm their librarian actually.”

"Don't tell Krognaz what I said about him and taking a wife. But while you're here, go speak to Borgakh."

Slightly confused, I thank Shuftharz and look around for Borgakh.

I see a lone Orsimer woman standing outside the longhouse. “Are you Borgakh? Shuftharz sent me to you when she found out that I'm from the Scholar's Guild.”

"Do you know a Bargok gro-Nagrob?"

“Bargok? He came to the Guild from the College back when the letters first came out. I suppose I know him then.”

"Really. He left Winterhold for your group." She is clearly displeased. "And you have no idea why Shuftharz told you to see me?"

Tarvyn notices her displeased expression. “Something the matter? I truly have no idea why she sent me to you.”

She growls. "Can you do me a favor, elf?" She asks in a suspiciously calm tone.

“I-I suppose, so long as I'm not breaking any kind of law I guess.”

"No, I just need you to relay a message," she says still calmly, then her composure breaks.

"YOU TELL HIM I'VE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR ALMOST A YEAR NOW! I STAYED BEHIND BECAUSE WE HAD A VAMPIRE MENACE RIGHT ACROSS THE BLOODY MOUNTAINS FROM US AND I HAD TO DEFEND MY HOME FROM THAT WHILE HE WENT GALLIVANTING OFF TO THE COLLEGE TO PLAY WITH METAL! AND I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR HIM TO RETURN AND NOW HE'S GONE OFF WITH A NEW GROUP AND NEVER EVEN HAD THE COURTESY TO EVEN WRITE, MUCH LESS ACTUALLY STOP BY IN PERSON? WELL THE VAMPIRES ARE DEAD AND DRAGONS ARE ROUTINE BY NOW SO I'M COMING FOR HIM AND HE'D BETTER NOT HAVE SOMEONE ELSE OR I'LL SHOW HIM WHAT STEEL-HEART REALLY MEANS!"

"And tell him I love him sweetie."

Tarvyn stumbles backwards in surprise.

“I can relay the message; care to write it down so I don't forget?'

She turns around, enters the longhouse, and slams the door behind her.

At this point Tarvyn is visibly shaken and confused, concepts of love and other loftier emotions having left his realm of knowledge long ago, he decides to grab Vulwulf and go, heading to Markarth next.