Sjar'zer watches the mage in front of him leave, shakes his head slowly, and glides up to the Nord, moving effortlessly as he looks at the man and says matter-of-factly. "My name is Sjar'zer, I will get whatever you need, from whomever may possess it, or kill whomever breathes against your wishes." The man looks up at him, "Great, another cocksure thief, looking to make a quick septim. Tell me, do you even have a shred of honor in your body?" The argonian simply laughs, his eyes staring coldly into the Nord, "Do you want to win a war, or keep your honor intact? Do you think, even for a second that the Aldmeri aren't doing the same as what I'm offering you?" He looked at the Nord, nimble fingers dancing around on the table as he leans forward, almost glaring at him.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>