It took a while for Tanesha to register that anyone had been talking to her once the realisation had donned on her she turned around to face the Dark Elf woman who had spoke. She crossed his arms and tilted her head in confusion at the warning before offering a shrug. "Which is why I keep my hand on my sword. It means that if someone does decide to give me their hand it would only be manners to keep it. After all they've given me a gift and it would be rather rude if I didn't accept it wholeheartedly. I wouldn't want to offend anyone. It's bad enough to make friends after chopping off hands."<br/><br/>Tanesha gave a wild looking smile as she beamed to the Dunmer. Such elves weren't common within her people's lands but she figured the Keshali wouldn't be that picky when it came to giving hospitality. Race was one of those tricky things they didn't want to involve themselves in. Tanesha had long decided no one really had a choice of which womb carried them and thus preferred to see what kind of person she was dealing with. So far the most difficult people were the Nords. Since their self-rule they had become bolder and more arrogant yet Tanesha had never met a Nord during the times when Skyrim was part of the Empire.<br/><br/>"First time in this city and the first person that wants to talk to me comments on my lovely curves." she said with her wide smile. "I'm Tanesha Jorin from the Keshal Province. A land far beyond the sea. Not many elves there, not that there's a problem with elves of course. Apart from the tall ones with the glazed over eyes. Arrogant bastards. I've been looking for a place to rest my legs after the cross-country leap and bound towards Markarth. Not to mention some contracts. Bound to be some gold-heavy contracts of someone wanting some poor bastard's death."