"I can assure you, Orub, everything you have mentioned..." Gallus closed his eyes and cut both his hands through the air from his front to his sides, "...you will have nothing to worry about." Gallus then opened his eyes, "If, in the unlikely case that one of your crew is accosted by one of us or our merchandise, we will see to it that they receive recompense."

With Orub's previous cue, Gallus moves straight on to the figures. "Now, we propose that your party gets a percentage cut for your troubles. The flat rate per body we are charging the customer is twelve hundred septims a head, with the senche ones counting for double. With the amount we have ready to leave, that makes..." Gallus lifted his upper lip and looked to Meesei unsurely, "...oh, I can never remember the exact number. How many do we have, Meesei?" Gallus wanted to put some weight into the sheer size of the clan before the sailors' cut was to be haggled.

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Tzirret frowned sympathetically, but shook his head. "Not really," he replied, "Tzirret was born to a caravan in Cyrodiil. He was told to worry about many things, but slave traffickers were never one of them." Tzirret kept his face wide eyed and blank, trying to be sensitive about the issue. He angled his head to one side and asked Ma'tanza, "This one does not remember asking Ma'tanza about her years as a cub. Where did she grow up? What was it like?"