J’Ankor curled his leg beneath him again, tapped the paper beneath him, and half-closed his eyes: the most perfect image of a housecat, and Aurélie could not help but lean over and scratch him between his ears.

‘Oh! I’m sorry,’ said Aurélie again, and floundered. ‘Name’s J’Ankor,’ said the Alfiq, yawning: ‘I had heard this Guild was substantially less chatty than I am currently finding.’ ‘My name’s Aurélie,’ she said after a moment: ‘I am a regular at this Guild-hall, so I suppose you must be new here.’ What the Alfiq did not bother to explain, and so falls to the narrator, is that in laying upon a book or a paper, he could take in the information without looking at it, a talent which is the preserve of certain Alfiq mages – mostly among those with poor eyesight, but sometimes simply among the lazy, which was rather the case with our friend here. ‘You did not look like you were reading,’ said Aurélie: ‘I’m sorry for interrupting.’ I suppose it introduces me to all the latest gossip without me having to ask, but – I really do want to finish this paper, it is from the last Daggerfall Alchemy Symposium.’ ‘Some look far more human,’ he said: ‘and I imagine that they get far less bothered by the problems of human mages. I didn’t realise that… that you looked so much like cats.’ ‘Your day cannot have been that interesting,’ he said at last, ‘if you are that surprised by an Alfiq Khajiit.’ The cat stretched out a leg, and in no particular hurry to respond, began a thorough inspection and cleanse of his fur. Then, belatedly startled: ‘You can talk?’ ‘You would not believe,’ said Aurélie, ‘the day I’ve had.’Īt which the cat opened its eyes slowly, and in the most perfect Colovian accent, said: The cat did not look up at her entrance, but indicated that it was not quite asleep, by shuffling a little on its papers. She was quite used to talking to guild-cats in such a way, about things which other people might ignore this time, it was necessary that they ignore the business, but confiding to a cat did not seem a breach of secrecy. And when one has had a clash of academic ideologies with a fellow or set fire to the hem of one’s robes again or perhaps illicitly summoned a daedra, and had to persuade it to go before anyone sees – then one might find oneself seeking, for reassurance, the half-listening ear of a cat.Īnd so when Aurélie espied a feline silhouette upon a stack of papers, and cast herself onto the window-seat beside it, it was with the express intention of relieving the tension which had dishevelled her, and which had made her want to speak, to get it all out. Whatever sort of day one has had, there is something marvellous about pouring one’s heart out to some poor creature: for animals feign interest marvellously, or else simply provide a comfort in one’s presence. If one merely sits and observes, one finds that the real reason is guild-mages frequently being perfect disasters. The Mages’ Guildhalls of Tamriel often keep cats, and they are called guard-cats, in some mistaken hope that they will drive out burglars, miscreants and illicitly summoned daedra: at least, that is the answer one gets from the guild-mages, if one asks.

Morrowind colovian fur helm