A Cat's Tale:
Alqit the Cunning

Alqit (later Alqit the Cunning) was raised as the pet of a Breton Noble's daughter by the name of Chaque Jour. As a kitten, Alqit would sleep at the foot of Chaque's bed. As they both grew into adolescence, Chaque became the first to realize that Alqit was actually Suthay-iso, had learned to speak Breton, and was as intelligent as any human. Chaque advanced to Iliac University, and Alqit soon advanced to sleeping under the covers with Chaque.

These were happy times for Alqit! Alqit and Chaque shared a common interest in astronomy as well, and so she taught him to read and write, and Alqit would often help Chaque with her homework.

But as he grew, it was becoming more and more obvious to others in the household that Alqit was not just some large breed of house cat, even though he still lapped milk from a bowl on the floor and used his litter box on the dungeon steps.

Fearing for Alqit's life, Chaque reluctantly determined it best to send him away. She quietly gathered clothing, gear and money for him. One sad, gray autumn day they tearfully said their goodbyes.

Alqit left her standing in the road, loped quickly away and never looked back. This was not out of any anger or hurt or callousness. He believed the sooner he left, and the farther he traveled the less his heart would ache for their parting. He discovered over time, like many another mortal, that this would not be the case.

Alqit traveled South and East along the caravan roads. He had studied the histories of his people, the Khajiit, and knew that many were great traders and merchants, a few more were thieves and criminals, and some few were notable pirates. With this understanding, Alqit joined in with the caravans he encountered along the way, and found enough work from kindly Kajiiti merchants to get by.

Often this 'work' involved tricks and minor illegalities, as Khajiiti merchants engage in sharp tactics when it comes to their business rivals. Alqit appeared to have a natural talent for such activities, and so acquired a reputation of sorts among his kin.

Having been raised, so to speak, in a Breton household, Alqit was particularly well prepared for dealing with the abundant human population the merchants encountered. His oddest problem was learning to speak Khajiit. His most imminent concern was learning how to fight.

Khajiit, like any race of cat, are born hunters. Alqit had hunted and killed small animals with his claws and teeth since he was a kitten. Fighting with daggers is a different art, but fortunately one he acquired easily. An old Khajiit merchant, D'far the One Eye, had spent some time "on the account" in his younger days, knew his way around a pair of short blades, and found a serious and adept student in Alqit.

By the time Spring arrived the Caravan had reached Port Nopoint on the Gold Coast. Alqit had arrived as well. He was now full grown and indistinguishable from any other Khajiit, save for a peculiar Breton accent and a figurative hole in his heart that made him unusually withdrawn.

D'Far had effectively become his adoptive father. But the caravan was going East, D'Far with it, and not Alqit.

"Bright moons guide thee, my big strong M'au," said D'Far, hugging Alqit close. "As Khajiit trouble will find you. She will tease you, Alqit, and keep you company closer than any lover. She is no enemy. Make her your boon companion. Learn what she teaches."

"Walk on warm sands Dro D'far." replied Alqit. "You have taught this one much. You are the father I never knew. It grieves me so that our travels together must end now. I should stay with thee!"

"No, Alqit the Cunning. It is your time now, as it was mine so many moons ago. The ones you love are never farther than a cloud you plainly see in the sky, even though you can never touch. I will listen for word of thee, Alqit. And mayhap we will meet again."

They parted then, and once again Alqit felt pain and loneliness. Whenever he saw a cloud thereafter he saw his father D'far, or his long ago lover Chaque.

Alqit rolled his thumb and fingers over the small keepsake he had stolen from his father's pocket the last time they were together, a small clawfile in the shape of Rajhin. His father would be proud that his son could pick his pocket so cleanly.

Alqit settled into life in Port Nopoint.

Like any other Khajiit, he soon found trouble and adventures. He spent some time in jail for petty theft and misdemeanors. While incarcerated he learned new skills. He soon became a very efficient felon.

Alqit's real troubles mostly began when he decided to have three wives. This he had no problem doing, as he was relatively flea resistant and smelled acceptably. He frequented the "Sugar Houses" that spring up anywhere Khajiiti gather in numbers, and freely spent there such coins as he found lying about in houses, businesses or unguarded pockets.

First to attract his attention was Sugar Swiftclaws. Khajiiti courtship rituals and domestic arrangements are very different from almost any human culture. In example, Khajiit, both male and female alike, habitually cover their bodies neck to ankle in the manner of a prim Altmeri dowager.

However, the "Sugar House" scene borrows much culturally from their human counterparts, particularly in the cities and towns beyond the borders of Elsweyr. Sugar Swiftclaws was, in effect. a server-dancer at the largest such establishment in Port Nopoint, the 'Tender Claws Café'.

Sugar had beautiful brown fur and a lithe body, both amply apparent to the male and female clientele of the 'Claws'. Her bright green eyes locked with Alqit's hungry green eyes the moment she served his whitefish plate and moon sugar compote. Their eyes stayed focused on each other throughout her dance routine, which Alqit felt, rightly or wrongly, was danced for him alone.

Alqit stayed until closing. He offered to walk her home. "Yes." she said, putting her paw in his.

Some Khajiiti couples adhere to more ritual, and some less. Alqit and Sugar awoke in each other's arms, and forever on, whenever they were thus intertwined, Alqit's pain was lessened. And forever on, whenever they were so intertwined, Sugar's needs were met as well.

It would strain the reader of brief histories overmuch to recount all the manner and detail of Alqit's adventures in love and other dungeons. In the end, with respect to his three wives, Sugar was the greatest worker, Hunter was the one he feared the most, and little Vain Silkpaws the one he loved the best.

Postscript:

The three wives decided that it was actually worth it to only have to put up with a husband 1/3 of the time, and thus decided to share Alqit. This is the true story behind his wanted poster.

One Night in Anvil

Late Sun's Dusk Found Alqit the Cunning, his adoptive father D'far, and his number three (but best loved) wife Vain gathered around a table at the 'Mudcrab and Suds' in Anvil.

A curious Imperial from the merchant sector had joined them, attracted by the talk of magic and science.

"Tell us more of what you learned from this Breton hussy you were slave to," said Vain Silkpaws.

"Pet," corrected Alqit, still uneasy about discussing his early years with any of his wives. "Not slave."

Alqit sipped from his mug, marshalling his words.

"A two dimensional universe is like a sheet of paper," said Alqit. "Many such two dimensional universes may be layered like sheets one on top of another in the third dimension. But they are separate sheets, and do not intersect. Thus they are separate universes and have no interactions with each other. Hence Mundus and Oblivion."

"Thus and so," agreed D'far. "When this one is between sheets with S'ala Big Nose there is no interaction whatsoever. Just snoring. Hence D'far and S'ala." He took a generous swig of Moon Whiskey. He was at this juncture, perhaps, not following the finer points of the discussion.

"Now, angle one sheet so it intersects the other," continued Alqit undisturbed. "The intersection, a line, exists in both universes, yes? This is what the sorcerous ones do when they summon creatures from the planes of Oblivion. It is an intersection between universes, and likewise, an intersection between magic and science."

Alqit drew a long sip from his mug of Arenthian Brandy.

"But a summons is not a line, it is a globe," pointed out the Imperial, swirling his wine.

"Of course," said Alqit. "We are creatures of three dimensional space, thus the intersection most often takes the shape of a sphere, the boundary of least energy."

"What is energy?" asked Vain. She was never quite certain if her husband was a Khajiit genius or a babbling lunatic, but she loved it when he stretched her thoughts like this.

"Energy is that quantity that makes things happen. Wind the spring of a music box. You have put energy into the spring. The spring now has some energy to do the work of rotating the drum of the music box, allowing a tune to be played. Energy made that happen."

"But only so much! The energy of the elastic spring coil soon runs out, and the spring once again must be wound. Oddly enough, the energy did not disappear, nor did it get used up. It remains in the form of 'heat' in the surroundings. But it has lost most of its ability to do work. This goes far astray of our original discussion however."

"So I could heat our house this winter with music boxes?"

"With enough of them yes, Vain, but this one would prefer the sound of a crackling fire to the cacophony of several thousand music boxes."

The Imperial laughed aloud at Alqit's imagery.

"Ah, so much is clear," expressed D'far the One Eye, belching. "I must use the privy."

D'far stumbled a bit as he stood to go, brushing briefly against the Imperial, deftly picking his pocket.

Vain laid her head on Alqit and tucked her paw under his arm.

"This has been a profitable evening," she purred. "This one expects to see a shiny new music box under the New Life tree, yes?"