Uraccen

Small blade. Easy to hide. I mean, sure, you could just swing a pickaxe into someone's face, but people tend to see that coming.

Got a problem with a prisoner? Get a shiv. Hear Grisvar has a spare, if you could get him to part with it.

One day, the Forsworn will paint the walls of Markarth in your kinsmen's blood. Best you not be there on that day, Nord.

One day, the Forsworn will paint the walls of Markarth in their blood.

A Nord nobleman I served was stabbed in the night. Wasn't me, but I knew I'd be blamed.

So I ran. Joined the Forsworn. Started killing. Got caught. Now I'm here.

They come in here once a week to clean out the bodies, grab any ore we've mined, and beat down the troublemakers.

That's the only time when we get food, too. And if there's not enough ore mined up, we don't get any.

I hear you're in for life. Sad. I'd get a shiv if I was you, or maybe some Skooma to drown your troubles.

My advice? Serve your time at the pickaxe and get out. You don't want to end up getting a shiv in the guts over a bottle of Skooma.

Madanach's guard. Big, even for an Orc. Heard he ripped a man's arm off and beat him to death with it. He's old-fashioned like that.

If you're asking, that means you're the new lifer. Tough luck, friend. Those guards sold you out but good.

No one talks to Madanach, I'm afraid. Not without getting past Borkul the Beast.

And you don't want to talk to Borkul the Beast.

Bottles of Moon Sugar. Khajiit use it as a... pick me up. Good way to pass the time.

Prisoners smuggle the stuff in. Only currency we have down here.