M'aiq the Liar and other associated Oblivion properties are under the Bethesda license. I'm just borrowing.
A word from M'aiq: By the way, there's a possible spoiler on the Anvil quest "Siren's Deception" so…reader discretion is advised and all that jive.

M'aiq the Liar presents "Who Stole Heinrich Oaken-Hull's Family Jewels?"

M'aiq knows many things; M'aiq tells some. The Khajiit knows the human has heard the ear mongerers speak of a gang of thieves near Anvil. Ah, that is…the female gang of thieves. They are not to be confused with the ones stealing from Norbert Lelles. It would seem shabby houses are not the main problem with Anvil, eh? Anyway, these thieves are a group of silly women with swords who lure men outside the city just to steal from them. M'aiq thinks this strategy is quite mediocre. You see, the Khajiit prefers to—eh, nevermind.

Anyway, there is a Nordic man, a sailor, by the name of Heinrich Oaken-Hull. M'aiq does not know this man, but the Khajiit would consider him the same as all the rest of the humans he knows. Actually, M'aiq has heard talk that he has a Bosmer for a wife. M'aiq would indeed rather sleep with hishorse…that is to say dinner. This Heinrich man is a pretty wealthy man, and among Heinrich's riches, he has money, expensive liquors, and worthless family heirlooms. However, the Nord takes the most pride out of his collection of precious gems, his family jewels, so to speak.

His family jewels are not very large, but they are of fine quality. M'aiq is sure his jewels are what attracted his wife to him in the first place. He would never sell them nor use them in any unsuitable way, for they were his father's jewels and his father's father's jewels. From time to time, Heinrich would take them out of their box, in secrecy, and look each shiny piece over. They brought the man much joy in his life, and he always brought the box with him everywhere he went. Now, about those handed down gems he had…eh-heh, M'aiq is only joking; he was speaking of them…not anything else, silly human.

Then, far off in a small village named Harlun's Watch, M'aiq met a rather foul Dunmer woman. She was a tobacco addict and poor farmer. The Khajiit means poor by ability to farm. She had plenty of money, but the lady couldn't farm if her pitiful human life depended on it. M'aiq was there in search of calipers, of course. He happened to see her as she attacked the earth with her hoe. The soil looked as if a dozen trolls had nested there, and the plants were so wilted that even M'aiq wouldn't give such vegetables to an Argonian.

M'aiq said to the woman, "It would seem the prey is in need of farming advice."

"I need no such thing!" the silly human cried. "I am farming just fine."

"You farm worse than my blind mother does," the Khajiit replied.

Then, the woman called M'aiq and his mother a number of Dunmer words which M'aiq can never properly pronounce, even after living in Vvardenfell for a number of years. Bah, M'aiq says to Oblivion with them all and their nonsensical words. M'aiq has one word for them all, prey. Anyway, so the woman was angry with the Khajiit. M'aiq went around that night and stole every single pair of calipers that was in Harlun's Watch, a grand total of one and a half pairs. (One of them was broken, but broken or not, calipers are calipers, am I right?) Now, M'aiq would have done this even if the woman had praised my mother; may her soul continue burning in Oblivion. So that, human, is the moral of that story.

Yes, I'm sure now the prey asks M'aiq, "What does this have to do with Heinrich Oaken-Hull?"

"Nothing," says M'aiq. He simply thought it was an interesting story.

So, one day as M'aiq himself was standing outside the Anvil gate contemplating how good a white horse tastes, he saw Heinrich come through with a group of women. The Nord was laughing and carrying on, as all humans do. He seemed to have drunken quite a bit. The man stumbled off the path and fell backwards into a bushel of aloe vera. As the women attempted to get him to his feet once more, one of them fell and he tripped over the woman's fallen body. He fell onto the road this time, scraping his face.

That would have been the perfect time for M'aiq to aid the poor fellow…but the Khajiit did no such thing. He perched himself upon the corral fence nearby, skooma in hand, and watched the scene continue. He also managed to take down a few notes for…later use. Anyway, so the cretin was lying face down on the road. He managed to get to his feet after accidentally breaking one of the women's arms. As the women fussed over the one human's broken arm, the oaf stumbled into the horse corral and ambled up to one of the horses.

With a smack on its rear end, the Nord mumbled, "I—I gotta Bosmer for a wife. How—how about that? Eh? I'd rather sleep with you, old nag. I—I think I will…" The horse kicked him square in the jaw with a hind hoof and sent him flailing backwards. He griped about his pain as he crawled towards fence. He shakily stood up, wobbling uneasily. As his hiccupped once, the force of it sent him twirling drunkenly before slipping and conking the back of his head on the fence as he crashed to the ground. He cursed a frightful storm as he stood once more.

"Good sir Oaken-Hull!" cried one of the wenches. "Are you alright?"

He muttered a string unpleasantries before belching and gaining his feet once more. They helped him down the road a ways until a bandit came rushing out of the bushes, taking the group by surprise. The human yet again fell to the ground as the bandit swept by, pushing the Nord out of the way. Only moments after he had gotten to his knees, a mounted legion soldier raced after the bandit. Seeing the officer, the women started to flee, leaving Heinrich to fend for himself. He scrambled to the side on his hands and knees to avoid being pummeled by the horse. By luck, he was not hit, and the mounted soldier galloped off into the night. The Nord took a deep breath and stood up, his heart fluttering. The sound of blood throbbing in his ears was strong. It took a few seconds too many to finally realize that it was not the sound of blood in his ears but another set of hoof beats. A news courier, whose horse blended in with the night, was on top of him before he could even blink.

"Sorry! Here's a free copy of the Black Horse Courier!" shouted the delivery person. A newspaper fluttered to the ground as the horse thundered off down the road. Heinrich Oaken-Hull whimpered slightly as he rolled over, nursing his pained body until he finally blacked out. The man woke up to a guard prodding him curiously the next morning.

"Well, hello! I thought you were dead!" said the guard. "It's sure a relief that you're not dead! Perhaps you'd like to go inside and get some rest. You look awful."

Heinrich grumbled, "I only look half as awful as I feel, I'm sure."

Standing up, the Nord realized his little box of gemstones was empty. He quickly realized that the women had taken them. With that, the poor man took his box and limped inside the city gates with a sad, defeated frown. M'aiq could only pity him when a bratty, noble youngster ran up and held his leg out in front of the Nord. The child laughed as the man hit the ground. As this old Khajiit walked up to help the man, the child fled the scene. M'aiq aided the man in getting to his feet once more. As M'aiq walked away, he only hoped that Heinrich would not hear the rattling sound coming from his pocket.

M'aiq disappears with a small clinking noise.