What the heck kinda wheat are they growing in Tamriel.

The priest does indeed seem to have a surplus of money; he's counted out several hundred in denomination now for all the bottles. And he still has plenty left over by the time he cinches the purse closed again. "While not a hundred actual coins, per se, I assure you they're worth that much back where I come from. I'm not in the habit to cheat handsome merchants, especially if I hope to do returning business."

Though Rotund'jere pauses, tapping a long finger against one cheek. "Are you terribly familiar with this place, by the way? Been here long? I'm a fresh arrival myself and now I worry I won't know my way around as best to help others." Where is he going with this.