"Ah. My thanks. I'll take this in account for the bargaining. Now, onto the goods themselves. The 'research material' might not be viable on the market. The ride to Vvardenfel means those will probably be Bosmer leftovers by the time we make it to port. The rest interests me more. There's a bunch of newly rich men in Vvardenfel who are sick of ash yams and saltrice and swaddling themselves in layers of linen to keep warm in the more dusty and desolate regions. They could use some furs and Nordic wines and real, red blooded meat rather than the pickings of some beetle. Jewelry will always sell, and the father we get it from Skyrim the better I'm able to price it considering the circumstances. Now, if you're screwing me you're not moving any goods out of Falkreath until the next Era, so if you have any goods that may not be up to snuff I'd ask that you point them out to me. Then we can get to work. It's too damn cold to be standing around out here anyways," Walks-In-Light noted, lightly ruffling through the takings through a gloved hand. Canis looked on with interest and perhaps mild revulsion, the dead bodies not being an olfactory pleasure for anyone involved. The crewman correctly stood a good distance back and attempted to listen to as little as possible.