I promise, I'll be gone before you know it. Malmas will have eyes on the roads between here and Kragenmoor, so I'll make for Narsis first and then head west.

Fine, anything! I'll leave for Cyrodiil, and never breathe a word. I swear it. Take the flask, and tell Malmas whatever you need to tell him.

Make it quick, then. I don't want to suffer.

No, no, no -- I swear, I'd never tell a soul!

That matter is settled. It's good to know our business is not at risk.

You said you weren't interested. Quit asking questions, before I decide I can't trust you either.

So, Sorus Dalvor is dead? How very sad. And how very fortunate for you.

Best get after it -- every day Sorus Dalvor breathes is a day he might decide to tell someone about Kurhu. Your boss wouldn't want that to happen, now would she?

So, is the job done?

Your loss. Shame -- you looked like somebody who could be relied on to take care of business.

I knew you looked useful. Take care of Sorus, and the gem's all yours.

My colleagues and I recently hired a caravaner named Sorus Dalvor in the normal course of our business. Sorus decided he'd rather not be one of our... suppliers, after he had already been here to Kurhu. This doesn't work for me. Don't want any Hlaalu or Imperial busybodies knocking down our door because dear old Sorus spilled the beans. If you shut Sorus up for good, that grand soul gem is all yours. I'd bet he's staying at Lucky Shalaasa's Caravanserai in Arvud with the other caravaners passing north.