“What animals were kept, raised, and domesticated often depended greatly on the needs of the society that kept them.” - Garth Wainswrought, Dean of the Levain Institute for Higher Learning, circa 680 FP.

Due to Ptolodecca’s unusual lack of demand for beasts of burden, the vast majority of animals that were raised and kept in the Lichdom were usually ranched for other purposes, be it their wool, milk, eggs, flesh, or whatever else they might provide. A large portion of the Lichdom’s land consisted of fertile pastures that made for prime grazing ground for raising such animals, though what animals were raised differed by the region.

Fowl like chicken, duck, and geese were typically raised for their eggs, meat, and feathers, and which one a place raised often depended on its location. Villages that were closer to lakes would typically raise ducks or geese, while those further inland favored chickens, quail, turkey, and the like. Due to the teachings from Tohrmut’s clergy and their own roots as refugees, people of the Lichdom had a mentality of never wasting anything, so every bit of an animal they slaughtered would be put to use in some manner.

This applied even to things that people elsewhere might have typically discarded, such as the various organs of an animal and skin that made for poor leather. In fact, such often frowned upon bits usually ended up in the cooking pot, as the early settlers of the region, which tended to be escapees and refugees with little to nothing of their own, knew not to waste anything that might be edible.

Along with the typically raised animals commonly ranched, the people of the Lichdom also often raised various bugs and insects that they found good for eating, or creatures that were not even native to the region. The more arid northern regions of the Lichdom, like part of the assimilated Antemeian territory, were quite ideal for raising certain breeds of large horned lizards, so they simply imported some from Elmaiya to raise.

When Aideen considered that the recently conquered region that used to be Vitalica shared a lot of its climate with those parts of Antemeia, she felt that it was likely that such horned lizards would be a popular animal to raise in the north before long. While the beasts were humongous and fearsome-looking, they were very docile, and could survive purely by grazing on plants, so they needed minimal help from their ranchers.

Such horned lizards also provided great amounts of meat and eggs over their lifetime, while their bones made for much-desired material for necromancers to use in their larger constructs, and the leather could make for passable, cheap armor to boot. Such beasts were simply gifts that kept on giving, and were a highly efficient choice for a ranch animal.

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In the south where Aideen and the rest of her group were having their vacation, the more common ranched animals were plentiful, but there were also certain local oddities that intrigued them quite a bit, where certain animals not usually seen raised for meat were being raised that way for the locals, who had acquired a taste for them from long ago.

Which was how a golden-brown whole roasted porcupine gleaming with its own fats were brought to the dinner table where Aideen and her group sat that evening.

With its sharp quills plucked off and its short fur removed, the porcupine visibly showed that it was just a large sort of rodent, as it shared many characteristics with other rodents. The locals had been enjoying porcupines like that as a delicacy for centuries, which naturally piqued the group’s curiosity as they asked to try some for themselves.

Other than the whole roasted porcupine, its organs were also cooked into a soup with some local palm wine and fermented fruits and a generous helping of vinegar made from the same fruits. Those flavorings as well as the herbs included in the soup gave it a strong, sour and savory kick that was tinged with a strong but not unpleasant bitter aftertaste, not just from the alcohol but also from the organs themselves.

Apparently a porcupine was a “bitter” animal, and if prepared poorly, its flesh would taste bitter as well. That bitterness came from its organs, and the soup it was cooked in was done specifically to tone down and incorporate that bitterness into a pleasant flavor, which also allowed the earthy, gamey natural flavors of the organs to come to the fore as well.

It might be a bit of an acquired taste for people unused to strong flavors, but for locals of the Lichdom who were used to such strong flavors, it was a pleasant, if somewhat unexpected soup with a powerful taste. The locals apparently also believe that consuming the organs would improve a man’s performance at night, but that was something bound to remain untested unless Rhys found himself some local girl.

Compared to the rather surprising soup, the meat was almost tame in flavor, with a bit of the same gaminess covered in the rich oils from its own rendered fats. The meat was surprisingly lean and quite chewy, but moist and flavorful at the same time. It was the sort of meat where one enjoyed chewing on it as more flavor kept coming out the more one chewed.

By contrast, the skin of the porcupine was something else. At first glance Aideen thought it would be similar to the crackling rind of a roasted pork, but as she bit into it, she realized that it was most definitely something very different. The roasted skin of the porcupine actually reminded her of cartilage in terms of consistency, a crunchy thing one could really enjoy chewing on.

Yet at the same time, said skin had been infused with the mixture of honey and herb that was brushed on it while it roasted as well as the rendered fats from its own subcutaneous layers, and had a rich, sweet flavor to it that was truly enjoyable to eat. Combined with the unusual texture, it made for a truly unique food to enjoy, one that was hard to replicate elsewhere.

Needless to say, the group happily feasted on their food, leaving only empty platters and bones behind as a sign of their appreciation for the food.