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Evrien,

You soulless, gold-gouging son of a horker! When I see you next, surround yourself with bodyguards or I'll strangle you and let the Bloody Hands feast on your remains.

Tripling your transport fees is outrageous. Our present need forces me to pay, as you well know. But when order is restored to Cyrodiil, I'll take these ill-gotten gains out of your hide.

I don't know whether to hope you make it here safely or that the Goblins kill you. Either would give me satisfaction.

— Ufgra gra-Gum

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