This is a piece I wrote for Tamriel Rebuilt that deals with the archipelago of Cathnoquey. I based it off of the description in the 2nd Edition Pocket Guide to the Empire. I hoped to capture a bit of the otherworldly and evocative feel that it offered.
A Pearl Betwixt Empires: An Overview of Cathnoquey
It has been well over a century since the Imperial Geographic Society has last conducted a survey of the citizens of the Province of Cathnoquey. Initial surveys took place during and shortly after Emperor Uriel Septim V added the realm to our Empire during his ill-fated expedition to Akavir. The chaos of this time obviously prioritized military matters, which meant scholars could ill-afford to better understand the cultural customs of this fascinating land. What work they produced has provided us with tantalizing enigmas but not, alas, clear answers.
Though our Empire continues to seek to bring all Nirn (and beyond) under its beneficent rule, our current sovereign, Uriel Septim VII has wisely chosen this to be a period of consolidation rather than expansion. Thus, it is the perfect time in which to better understand the myriad cultures of which our Empire is comprised, particularly those that are often overlooked.
As an independent scholar, I chose to undertake a voyage to Cathnoquey in 3E 414 in order to learn more about this distant province.
The Flotilla-Cities of the Chimeri-quey
Much has been made of Cathnoquey being an example of Man and Mer living in peace. It strikes me as peculiar that any citizen would cite this as remarkable—is not our own Empire an example of the same? Regardless, Cathnoquey has long hosted co-existing cultures: the Chimeri-quey and the Keptu-quey (older documents refer to them as the Men-of-Keptu-quey).
It is by fortuitous happenstance that my vessel (a carrack whose Nord captain traded furs for wasabi) crossed paths with one of the legendary flotilla-cities of the Chimeri-quey. My first impression was surprise that such an ungainly assemblage of wood and tarp, of barnacle and iron, could even stay afloat, much less survive on the open waters of the Padomaic.
The flotilla-city I saw, whose name translates roughly as Shining Net Spread Across the Waves, is in fact a marvel of self-sufficiency. Let me explain:
A typical flotilla-city consists of anywhere between twenty and forty vessels. There will be four or five core vessels of enormous size, larger even than Imperial galleon (though much slower). The core vessels are of ancient construction. Indeed, much of the wood has rotted away, the hulls held together by a framework of shells and jagged barnacles that give these ships the appearance of mountains moving upon water. The crustaceans living amongst the fossilized hulls have a mutualistic relationship with the crew and have been known to aid in the defense of the core vessels during emergencies.
The core vessels are connected by networks of planks and bridges so that, from a distance, they almost appear to be one. Reflecting the egalitarian tendencies seen in Cathnoquey as a whole, the core vessels are open to all. Provisions are stored in the immense holds and traded to other Chimeri-quey in exchange for goods or labor (though Imperial drakes are accepted, they are somewhat unusual—I do not think that the tradesmer from whom I purchased a delicious mahi-mahi was especially pleased that I chose this method of payment).
More remarkable still are the long nets of kelp and other vegetable materials that sprawl across the flotilla-city. These slimy and glistening strands connect the core vessels to the smaller ships, and act as mobile farms. Many Chimeri-quey work on the kelp nets, plucking nutritious leaves with which to garnish their dinners. Thicker strands act as walkways so that crew from one ship can cross over to another.
Water remains a difficult issue for the flotilla-cities. Smaller sea plants symbiotic to the kelp nets have been bred to absorb and de-salinate water (much like the sadrith mushrooms favored by the Telvani). The ships themselves are designed to collect as much rainwater as possible, with even the sails cleverly designed to funnel liquid to waiting barrels. Chimeri-quey engineering ensures that there is enough water to get by, but the ever-present threat of shortage means that strict population control measures are required.
As many as two-dozen smaller ships make up the outer vessels. The outer vessels are notable for their heterogeneity. Some are fishing ships with strong sails and immense hulls, who will detach from the city in order to harvest from teeming waters. Others are carefully insulated forge ships that specialize in light manufacturing. Swift traders may go to distant shores for unusual goods. There are also small warships of good quality.
While the core vessels have allegedly stayed afloat for centuries or millennia, the outer vessels are essentially normal seagoing ships. The Chimeri-quey have incorporated ships from a wide variety of cultures into their flotilla-cities, so one may see Nord longships, Akaviri junks, and others. I was assured that all ships are obtained by legal purchase. The idea that the Chimeri-quey might seize ships and kill the crews is understandably offensive to them.
Shining Net Spread Across the Waves has fifteen outer vessels, though a sixteenth had recently been lost in a storm, its sinking (with all hands) still mourned by the city at the time of my visit.
Outer vessels may detach from the flotilla-city for months at a time. It's not unheard of for ships from one flotilla-city to dock at the kelp nets of another, and eventually become part of the new host. The precise calculations that isolated outer vessels use to find flotilla-cities appear to be a closely guarded secret.
The concept of the flotilla-city should be of keen interest to the Imperial Navy. Lengthy supply lines strain any invasion effort of the lands beyond Tamriel, but think of what our legions could do when supported by self-sufficient fleets?
Finally, there is the shore-khan's ship. In truth it is little more than a glorified scouting vessel that always sails a few days ahead of the flotilla-city, using messenger pigeons to relay news to the main body. It's considered a dangerous assignment and a burden of leadership.
St. Veloth at Sea: The Chimeri-quey
The descendants of the ancient Chimer look much like the modern Altmer, though smaller of frame and rougher of demeanor. While the Altmer praise luxury, the Chimer embrace hardship and danger. A settled life is anathema to these doughty mariners and they pity those who spend their lives on land.
It is unfortunately difficult to get clear answers about the history of the Chimeri-quey. Responses are often evasive. One I frequently heard was that: "who is to say, these days, so long after the departure?", accompanied with a slightly embarrassed smile.
Regardless, St. Veloth is still venerated, his visage reproduced on hull and sail. Though I cannot be completely sure about this, my understanding is that the Chimeri-quey think that the best way to honor St. Veloth's virtues is to maintain a nomadic existence. Sedentary life leads to decadence and stagnation, as they believe has happened with both the Altmer and the Dunmer (one wonders what they think of the more rugged Bosmer).
The open sea, perhaps, provided a better option for nomadism than could Resdayn. Here there are no Nordic barbarians or Dwemer automata. Simply the endless seas, harsh and cruel but not without succor for those who know its secrets.
Shrines to the so-called Good Daedra can be found throughout the flotilla-city. Each ship has at least one, typically an icon of brass and semiprecious stones that honors Mephala, Boethiah, and Azura. More attention seems to be given to Azura, but again, it is difficult to be sure given the reticence the Chimeri-quey show when it comes to religious matters.
The fundamental unit of Chimeri-quey society is the crew, which consists of several interrelated families. Upon reaching adulthood, a Chimeri-quey will receive a tattoo on the sole of the right foot, the design unique to their ship. This way, they will always walk the deck of their home no matter where they go.
Marriage always occurs between Chimeri-quey of two different ships. The husband moves to the wife's ship and becomes a part of her family. Though the father is the head of the family in domestic issues, the role of ship captain typically goes to a mother. She will determine who among the crew is sent to the Wave Council, and delegate responsibilities for the maintenance and running of the vessel.
As mentioned, resources are always scarce. If the population grows too large, Chimeri-quey will depart for other flotilla-cities, or as crewmen on non-Chimeri-quey ships. The latter choice is considered a hardship, and many sad ballads are sung about Chimeri-quey who had no choice but to make their way among strange crews.
Yet not all Chimeri-quey find the experience disagreeable. I met one (initially from a different flotilla-city) who spoke of his days serving in the Imperial Legion and proudly showed me his papers of honorable discharge. Another had made a tidy fortune doing “something-or-other” (she refused to elaborate, though seemed pleased with whatever it was she’d done) in Solitude.
Decisions for a flotilla-city are made by the Wave Council, a collection of elected representatives who meet on board the core vessels. Each outer vessel gets one representative, while a core vessel receives two. Meetings occur once a month. The most important responsibility of the Wave Council is to determine what materials the flotilla-city needs. For instance, should more food be required, they will determine that one of the outer vessels devoted to fishing will go out on an expedition. Officially, a two-thirds majority is required for any decision, but it is rare (suspiciously so) for the Wave Council to not have a unanimous consensus.
The shore-khan is a nominal leader elected by the Wave Council. He or she will be the face of the flotilla-city to the outside world. In all cases, the shore-khan is chosen from the crew of a core vessel, as outer vessels cannot necessarily spare anyone for the purpose.
Though great honors are given to the shore-khan, their job is a bleak and dangerous one. By custom, no one may hold the position for longer than ten years, by which point they gratefully return to the fold. Former shore-khans enjoy great esteem among their crews.
The insular nature of Chimeri-quey society means they are not well-integrated into large Imperial society. Yet this may be beginning to change. Traders from Tamriel are no longer so rare in the Padomaic Ocean, and Chimeri-quey merchantmen now dock at ports throughout the Empire. Indeed, Chimeri-quey are exploring the Empire of which they are a part (doubtless, a few have been mistaken for tattooed Altmer). Their steadfastness and nautical skill make them assets as citizens, and I predict they will only grow in importance as Uriel Septim VII (and his successor, whoever that may be) extends the Empire's catholic reign.
The Dragon's Black Scales, Spread Across the Sea
As any diligent student of geography knows, the island of Cathnoquey is the greatest of the four large islands within the Queyan Archipelago, itself surrounded by 56 (as of the most recent IGS survey) smaller islands. Cathnoquey is the second farthest to the south and by far the biggest, easily able to hold the other islands within its mass. The province of Cathnoquey encompasses the entirety of the archipelago.
Sitting just north of the tropics, Cathnoquey is in truth a rather bleak place. Rocky beaches surround miles of stunted forests where the trunks of slender gray-trunked palms, seldom taller than a man, twist like wires as they struggle up from the rocky landscape.
Beyond these forests are hills of igneous desolation where stones of black glass reflect the sun's heat on travelers. The interior of Cathnoquey remains obscure, even to the Keptu-quey. Dark rumor shrouds the volcanic (though long-dormant) interior and few go there willingly.
Freshwater lakes and lagoons dot Cathnoquey's north, and it is here that most of the Keptu-quey make their homes. The biggest native citadel, Ylöccan, straddles a rocky strand that divides the great Noccöny Lagoon and the seas of the Padomaic Ocean.
The industrious Keptu-quey have cleared enough of the forest to set up extensive farmland. The staple crop is a type of tuber called a nup root which is filling and possesses a pleasantly sweet taste. Domestic animals tend to be similar to those found in the more settled areas of the Empire, though there are more peculiar native beasts living in the wild. Other Cathnoquey make their living by fishing in the lagoons, through light manufacturing. Wasabi from the famed Wasabi Run is managed and cultivated by the East Empire Company.
Sulfur and glass deposits can be found closer to the central volcano, but the Empire has had difficulty exploiting these. The Keptu-quey are unwilling to work in mines, and the attempts of previous governors to correct this issue did not end satisfactorily. The few mines in operation use convict laborers imported from Tamriel, but it is unlikely that they will be maintained for much longer given that more convenient deposits are abundant in closer and more cooperative provinces.
The second-biggest island, Cinanquey, boasts the biggest Imperial presence which is centered around the thriving regional capital of Mare. The third island only holds a few Keptu-quey farming and fishing towns. The fourth island, Llénnöcöcönnéll, is quarantined by Imperial edict and is beyond the scope of this journal.
From East, From West, From North: The Keptu-Quey
Few human groups in Nirn are as puzzling as the Keptu-quey. As the name we have given them suggests, there are hints of them having ancestry among the Keptic peoples who once inhabited Hammerfell and Cyrodiil. One justification for this is the bull heraldry so ubiquitous among the Keptu-quey, but this alone is not sufficient as proof. As symbols, bulls are hardly unique to the old Tamrielic Keptu. Another difficulty lies in the fact that no one really knows what the Keptic peoples looked like.
It should be noted now that Chimeri-quey and Keptu-quey are demonyms of Imperial design. The inhabitants, both Man and Mer, simply refer to themselves as Quey (though some have accepted our prefixes in recent years).
The Keptu-quey tend to be short and powerfully built, with skin tones ranging from bronze to light brown. Hair color can run the gamut from jet black to a dark brown or a sort of auburn; facial hair is present among males but tends to be wispy. The most distinctive feature of the Keptu-quey are their eyes, which are almond shaped due to the presence of a pronounced epicanthic fold.
Some scholars believe that the fold indicates that the Keptu-quey hailed from a more frigid climate such as what is seen in Atmora (this feature can also appear among Nords, albeit rarely). Others argue that the Keptu-quey originated in Akavir, though the lack of Akaviri cultural motifs in Cathnoquey makes this similarly questionable. In this scholar's humble opinion, the Keptu-quey are likely an admixture of several groups: Keptu, Nedes, Akaviri Men, and perhaps some of the Men of Morrowind who joined the Chimer. The truth, I fear, may be forever lost to history.
The nature of the Chimeri-quey means they are often beyond normal Imperial authority (happily, they do not appear to have taken advantage of our leniency). As a land-bound people, the Keptu-quey have far more interaction with Imperial governance, which has changed their culture considerably since the days before they joined our union. It's difficult to precisely reconcile earlier accounts of Keptu-quey culture with modern ones, but I shall endeavor to do my best.
Traditionally, many Keptu-quey lived around (and sometimes within) immense conical citadels that have never been touched by hammer or chisel. Words cannot truly do justice to these remarkable fastnesses, which are made of solid rock but appear as if molded from clay. Rounded turrets and parapets extrude from the living stone, irregularly placed ovoid windows looking out watchfully onto the sea.
The interiors are no less spectacular. As I have said, there is no masonry within these structures. The rounded hallways resemble the lava tubes found in central Cathnoquey, though the citadels are far from any volcanism (so far as we know). Curving corridors flow into enormous galleries as if crafted by nature's hand. The layout of a citadel is confusing but does follow a certain logic. So long as you keep walking forward, you will gradually be guided to the top floor, which typically contains a shrine.
Murals of garish color decorate the spiraling halls and chambers. The art style remarkably similar, aesthetically speaking, to the stone bas-reliefs found in Nedic ruins (a point often brought up by those scholars who suggest the Keptu-quey are of Nedic descent).
The Imperials who first encountered the Keptu-quey said that they refused to divulge the secrets of the citadels' construction. Modern Keptu-quey plead ignorance as to the specifics, though they are adamant that their ancestors did indeed build them. Snatches of Keptu-quey myth offer intriguing, though maddeningly vague, hints:
"Remember that we are the islands, and that your fathers and mothers bled to shape the mountain-homes in which you find safety."
This suggests some great sacrifice on the part of the early Keptu-quey, but no one knows with certainty.
Though the citadels remain in use, most Keptu-quey live in neatly laid out towns surrounding the citadels. In the old days, most dwelt in grass-roofed and cylindrical stone apartments called kënmënnu. These were communal structures to which would be attached smaller stone huts reserved for the use of individual families.
Kënmënnucan still be found at the outskirts of towns and on the farms throughout the countryside. Areas closer to the central citadel now more closely resemble Imperial settlements. Smaller homes, typically stone with roofs of blue shingle, cluster together in small groups of related families in a setup that is not really that different from the old kënmënnu.
Keptu-quey households are always inter-generational. A matriarchal figure, either the mother or grandmother, typically owns the family home while an elder male figure acts as the head of the family unit (the parallels with the Chimeri-quey family structure are probably not coincidental). The entire family participates in the raising of children.
Misunderstandings continue to abound regarding the Keptu-quey's seeming obsession with bulls. The bull is indeed a totem animal of sorts. The greatest deity of the obscure Keptu-quey pantheon, Nunreu (whose emphasis on labor suggests that he is Zenithar by another name), is described as a sort of reverse minotaur, a golden bull with a horned human head.
The old Keptu-quey writing system was sacral in nature and reserved for ritual purposes. Any written statement had to begin with an acknowledgement to Nunreu. Said acknowledgement took the form of a stylized bull. Modifications to this initial character would shape the meaning of the message and create a kind of elaborate monogram that might contain a paragraph's worth of information. Only trained priests (who can be identified by their bull-horned headdresses) may use this writing, and all examples of such are considered holy and inerrant. Modern Keptu-quey have adopted the more convenient Imperial alphabet though the old writing system is still used during religious ceremonies.
Though the Keptu-quey have adapted, somewhat, to the Imperial economy, they maintain a certain distrust of hoarding material goods. Families that have achieved great success are expected to expend much of it by commissioning the creation of fantastical (and utterly impractical) weapons. Cathnoquey is a peaceful realm, though the interest in such weapons suggests the trauma of migration from generations past.
Forging these weapons require a great deal of effort. Copper ore (usually supplied by Chimeri-quey traders) must be purchased, and forges activated. It's not unheard of for old artifacts ordered by the commissioning family's ancestors to be melted down for this purpose, the idea being that newer and more spectacular weapons will continue to honor the bloodline. Then come the innumerable festivities, rituals, and celebrations which are lively times for the entire community. Certainly the finished result provides an interesting example of Keptu-quey aesthetics.
The Keptu-quey on the second island of Cinanquey, particularly the regional capital of Mare, are more integrated into the Imperial system. Ylöccan, on Cathnoquey, remains traditional. Though not yet common sights on Tamriel, I met two-dozen Keptu-quey who'd visited and lived in the Empire's core lands. Records in Mare indicate that there's also been steady emigration to Tamriel over the past four decades.
Mingling of Man and Mer
Earlier accounts state that contact between the Chimeri-quey and Keptu-quey were rare and fleeting, consisting of brief meetings when the Chimeri-quey came ashore for trade. While this may have been the case during the third century of the Third Era, it is no longer so.
Ships from flotilla-cities frequently pay visits to Keptu-quey towns. These visits do seem to be reserved for specific outer vessels, whose families will be somehow linked to a corresponding human family on land. These links allegedly go back for generations. During visits, the families exchange gifts, share food, and bless each other's children.
Chimeri-quey who are forced off their flotilla-cities due to over-population may find sanctuary on Cathnoquey. Those Chimeri-quey with linked families will have an obvious place to stay, while those who do not may instead ingratiate themselves to the community. While I did not observe any Keptu-quey in Shining Net Spread Across the Waves, I was told that some humans seek and find new lives on-board the flotilla cities.
Marriage between Man and Mer is not exactly common but far from unheard of. It is conceivable that the Quey of both races will eventually become similar to the Bretons, though this will likely take thousands of years (and as I said, such marriages are an accepted exception, but by no means the rule). This connects to the local idea by which the natives, regardless of race, call themselves Quey, much as we call ourselves citizens.