“Take a seat anywhere,” one of them said. “The Master Hunter will be with you in a moment.” They then closed the door softly behind them, leaving her to her own devices.
Small but cozy, the well-decorated sitting room smelled of a mix of dried, sweet-smelling, earthy potpourri; far be it from the office she had been expecting. Instead, it looked as if the second floor was actually a small apartment that she was now standing in the living room of.
The walls were filled not with trophies but with paintings. A large, detailed portrait of a family hung over a small fireplace. Four faces smiled back: a tall, dark-skinned valkyrian man with a bright, laughing face stood next to a small, delicate tivarys woman, with an otherworldly beauty. She hung on his arm, her cheek touching his shoulder as she stared out of the canvas with a soft, stately look in her green eyes, well captured in the paint. A pretty young girl had the woman’s eyes and the man’s skin tone, a giggly smile on her face as she held a small, pale-skinned toddler. They were dressed well: The father in a maroon shirt and an embossed leather vest—the mother in a simple yet elegantly styled lavender gown that complimented her translucent white jade skin. The little girl wore a dress of white and green, and her dark hair was clipped back with ribbons of similar colors, and the toddler was dressed in a way to match his father.
“They’ve all gone and left the nest, now,” came a sweet voice from the side. “That was done many years ago.”
Guin looked up to see the tivarys woman from the portrait—though she hardly resembled the noblewoman in her finery now. Her skin was less white and more translucent. Guin could see the veins running around her pointed ears and bare scalp. Wrinkles were now more prominent, leaving an almost marbled appearance to her skin. Her green eyes, soft in the painting, were hard now, with a sharp pride that made it feel like she could overcome a threat in a moment, rather than the motherly pride in the painting. Perhaps the biggest changes of all, however, was the way the woman dressed and how she stood; she now wore the clothes of a hunter and stood straight, her hands behind her back at attention.
“Your family?” Guin asked.
The woman nodded. “My children live with my parents in the Imperial City now,” she told her. “I haven’t seen them in many a year since they came of schooling age.”
“You must miss them.”
“Very much, but now, all the hunters here are my family,” she said. “I am Master Hunter Lemania Lithe. My boys told me that you wish to speak with me?”
“Ah—Yes,” Guin went, standing straighter to match the Master Hunter’s commanding presence. “I wish to learn the art of skinning and tanning.”
“Then I welcome you,” Lithe nodded. “Hunting is an honorable profession. Shall we walk? I’ve been trapped inside all day.” The Master Hunter held out her arm toward the door, and Guin followed. She nodded to the two at the door, telling them to take a rest for a while. Guin followed her down the stairs as she continued: “Every city and small town has hunters; I’m sure you know this. We provide leathers and bones for tools and clothing, fur to keep the townsfolk warm in the cold months, and we provide meat year-round.
“Here in Miala De Ri, we hunters take particular care to use all parts of our kills, and those parts we cannot use are taken to a shrine behind the complex and buried or burned. Thus is the nature of our good city to appease the spirits of the land, and so long as you should operate within our borders, you would do well to adhere to our rules. If nothing else, be thankful for the profits that the kill provides those who benefit from its death.”
Walking her back out to the yard where the hunters were working diligently cleaning their skins, Lithe nodded or waved elegantly to everyone she passed. They came to a space where an older man with a bushy beard was just starting to string up a Moarbit to one of the poles.
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“Lady Lithe,” the man nodded to the Master Hunter as they strode up to him. “Can I be of service to ya?”
“Gorseth,” Lithe nodded, then turned to Guin. “This young lady here would like to learn how to skin. Do you mind showing her the proper steps?”
The man nodded gruffly and eyed Guin, “I can, yeh. Does the girly have a name?”
“Guin,” she said. “After you watch Gorseth skin this Moarbit, have him watch over as you do one yourself. When you are finished, return to me with your skin, and I shall tell you your next step.”
<<>>
[Quest Offered: To Skin a Moarbit]
This quest is optional. It can be skipped. (Difficulty: C)>>
<<>>
Gorseth grunted as Lithe walked away with a curt nod. Waving his skinning knife in Guin’s face, he said, “Now, you listen good, ya hear? I’ll only show ya this once, ‘n then you’ll have to do it fer yerself.” Guin nodded, but her eyes fell on the spirit of the little Moarbit, who was staring up at the man expectantly, its little nose twitching. “Where ya lookin’ at? Look here!” he growled. “First, ya gotta string the catch up by the feeties here—like this,” he pointed at it as it hung by one leg from a pole. “When you do this out in the woods, you can find a tree to hang it from, but here, we got poles and what-not. First, you gonna give the kid a good brushing to get all the dirt rubbish out of it. Makes it nice and pretty and easier to deal with later.
“Then, ya take yer knife here, and look here at this leg,” he ran his knife along the leg of the Moarbit where white met its striped red fur. “Use this here line as your guide and make yer cut, right ‘bout from the ankle here to the bum.” Guin watched with a mix of horror and fascination as he made his cut. “Cut along the ankle here to detach the foot from her fur and pull that skin off. Try not to hurt the tendon...” he pulled the skin off the meaty flesh of the animal with delicate but firm tugs.
He continued, “Then, you can move on to the tail. Yer gonna make a cut near around the base of the tail here, just about the bum, then pull the tail out if it got one; this here Moarbit don’t get much of one, so there's nothin’ to worry ‘bout. Now we can switch legs. You can use that tendon from earlier to hang it up by.” And he did so. “And repeat...” he made the same cuts to the new leg as he had before. “Then we cut the bum here to separate, then all we do is pull. Remember, gentle but firm.” Gorseth started pulling the fur down the flesh with relative ease, letting the fat separate from the skin from the muscles. When he got to the head, he stopped and picked up his skinning knife. “The head takes a bit more negotiating, but just take it slow and steady. You’ll have to put a little elbow grease into cutting the ears off.” He worked his way around the head with his knife. It seemed to offer little resistance as he cut through and pulled, cut and pulled, cut and pulled. A bit of blood dripped and rand down his hands. “When ye come to the mouth, yeh don’t need to worry so much. Cut them lips off.... Then, there you have it!” Guin grimaced, sucking her lips as she watched him make the final cuts and pull away the inside-out skin.
Holding it up proudly, he said, “And so, this is the first step to making useable fur. From here, we’ll give it a light wash, get rid of any leftover residue and blood from the skinnin’. The remains here we send to the tavern, where they will do what they like with it and distribute the parts they don’t use to the people who do.” The spirit of the Moarbit did a little satisfied shake, then pranced off into the woods. “Now, let me get this here pelt to Aaron for washing, and the carcass to Millie to take to the tavern, then we can see about getting you set up. Whaddya say?”
“Okay!” Guin nodded. He eyed her again. “Don’t you be wantin’ to take off that pretty cloak of yours? Skinnin’ is a bit of a messy business.”
Shaking her head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, “No. I’m good, thanks!”
“A’ight, then. Sit tight. I’ll be back in a moment with your fur.”