"I suppose that's true. So let's trade." I say getting back on topic.
She nodded and reached under the counter to retrieve two things. The first was a sheet of rough parchment that a brief glance at gave me an inventory list of what all she had currently.
'Good bookkeeping, smart.' I thought.
The second she pulled out was a slightly dusty but still good hide map of Hammerfell. She rolled it open and pointed at a small inked in fountain symbol towards the far western portion of the map.
"That's Karghistan." she said gently.
'That's basically where Markarth would be in Skyrim. Uncle Sheo has really put me deep in this province.' I thought with a sigh.
If I went any further west I'd hit the sea. In order to get back to Skyrim I'd have to cross the entirety of Hammerfell since the mountains bordering it were at the far eastern edge of the province.
'Then again that might have been the point. Can never tell with Sheo.' I thought slightly amused.
I looked the map over carefully and had to admit that the cartographer captured the province in great detail. I saw the darker terrain of Oark's front, the dense foliage of Bangkorai and the plains of Delrori Platus. -
Frankly the providence probably wouldn't really be struggling so hard to feed it's resistance fighters if the Thalmor didn't ravage any and all farms they found outside their control. Karghistan honestly probably lucked out as a resistance stronghold by being in a position that was strategically unwise to attack for the Thalmor. The place was well fortified enough that anything below full on sieging would accomplish little and the location makes that approach just as bad for the ones sieging as the ones being sieged, worse even since all the water was inside the dome.-
In a desert supply lines would be the lifeline of the army sieging the place and also the easiest targets to hit and cripple it. To put it bluntly this town was a pain in the ass to actually bring to heel that simply wouldn't pay dividends if it was actually taken. The Thalmor couldn't even sow discord since the town screened for traitors every week and upon entry. This meant everyone here genuinely disliked the Thalmor and there wasn't a damned thing they could do about it while putting out fires in the more strategically important places.-
The map also marked all the important places in Hammerfell such as towns and cities. There were no marks for places like Dwemer ruins or ancient tombs however which made sense as that was something a specialized map would be called for, not a basic one like this. I rolled the map back up and moved on to the list of things she had with clearly marked prices next to them. I tapped my finger on each of the things I wanted. My shopping spree mostly focused on things like water, books that I had never heard of, dwemer metal weaponry and potion ingredients native to Hammerfell.-
"Are you an alchemist?" she asked after confirming my selection.
"I am something of a polymath actually. Skilled in a great many things. Alchemy is on that list though I am no master." I said honestly.
"Still, if you were to help Alontar there would definitely be good coin in it for you. That poor man is drowning in potion orders from the resistance." she said seriously.
"Alontar? That's a very Altmer sounding name." I say a little surprised.
"That's because he is an Altmer. Odd fellow, friendly enough but private. Keeps to himself unless it's about that shop of his or potions orders in bulk." she said casually.
"How'd an Altmer get a position as a trusted potioneer for the resistance against the Thalmor?" I asked curiously.
"He just showed up at the gate covered in wounds with an elite Thalmor kill squad at his heels about sixteen years ago. We assumed nobody they wanted dead so bad as to chase across one of the most inhospitable places in Tamriel could be on their side and took him in on a probationary basis. He passed every test we gave him and once he came out as a skilled potion maker he became a fixture in the town that provided potions." she said with a nostalgic look as she paused to take a breath.
"The resistance heard about him and the quality of his potions and struck a deal with him. No clue what the terms were though, no one knows. He never misses a shipment though." she finished casually.
My eyes narrowed as I caught some details that made my brain itch in that familiar way anything involving my past did.
"When you say almost sixteen years ago would the anniversary of that date happen to be recently?" I asked seriously.
"Well now that I think on it that does seem about right? Why?" She asked confused.
"Because he may know who my parents are." I said feeling a bit odd.
The timeline added up suspiciously well. There was about a month and a half until I turned sixteen and I was dropped off at the orphanage when I was under a year old. The Thalmor also don't send elite kill squads after just anyone, especially not during the height of the great war.-
The leader of that last kill squad sent after me mentioned the blood of some woman flowing in my veins with particular hatred as well. It was all adding up to paint a rather ugly picture of my background. My mother or father was more likely than not an Altmer with an incredibly high pedigree who had a child with a Nord. No clues on that front beyond their Atmoran descendance and the ancient werewolf that served Hircine. That noble parent of mine likely entrusted my hiding to this Alontar who crossed into Skyrim and then after leaving me at the orphanage evaded the kill squad dispatched for me at that time across all of Hammerfell until he arrived here.-
"How old are you?" she asked taken back by my words.
"Fifteen, turning sixteen in a month and a half roughly." I said quietly.
"Oh my. It could truly be that he does hold the knowledge you think. But are you sure you want it? Once you know it may haunt you." she said kindly.
"Perhaps but I don't see why it would change me at all. I don't just magically stop being me because I learn something about my parents. Assuming he even knows anything to begin with, I could just be jumping at shadows." I say honestly.
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