Sometimes the work is never done.
Posted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 11:44 pm
As the night falls over the tiny hamlet of Haven, Sen steps out into the darkness. Footsteps over the cooling ground. The Valkyn'Vi walks quickly through the night, the breeze picking up and making the trees rattle. The days are growing hot, and the nights, only slightly less warm. Sen goes to the top of a small hill, where a grove of trees opens up into a circle. There is a fallen log in the middle, and lightning bugs flicker on and off.
There waits a body in the mist. The shape is hard to make out, even for a Valkyn'Vi, who have perfect night vision. But as Sen approaches him, he makes out that it who he expected. The man waits, sitting still in the heart of the forest with a heavy canvas wrapped package over his legs. He has a dagger in his hand. It's red tinted blade glimmers in the starlight.
The man's face is blacked, darkened to make him effective in his profession. His cloths are dirty, and leafy. They also help him to ovoid being spotted in by his prey. He tosses the package to Sen as the cook approaches. Sen hefts in one hand, and more importantly, smells it. He sets it between his legs and pulls an amber vial from his side pouch. He opens the top, and hands it to the man in black. The man in black takes a light breath and smiles. Sen tosses him the top, and walks back to the Inn, smiling to himself.
The Cook sets the package on the large wooden cutting board and reaches into his tools. He pulls out a large, leather wrapped knife that is nearly a foot long. It tapers to a razor sharp point, and had a small groove running the length of it's dark blade. He also takes out a large hook, made of steel and formed in a wicked curve. It has a sharp point, and an eyelet on the back for rope. Finally he takes out a six foot length of good silk rope from one of his boxes.
Sen unties the tiny twine ties holding the flaps of the package together. Four sets, for four sides. Once loose, he unfolds the canvas. Crimson stains upon the cloth are revealed to Sen's Lamplight as the crows cackle behind him.
“Sen,Sen,Sen,Sen.” The crows call out. Quoth, the largest of the birds caws the loudest. He is still wounded from his attack, but the soft feathers were starting to fill back in. The crimson stains are still warm. Sen finally unravels the cavnvas to reveal the body of a fawn. It was male, and tiny nubbings of it's horn can be seen. The hunter's arrow, long since removed caught the creature in a lethal location. Sen imagined the hunter now, enjoying the spices he'd given him. A tiny amount of spice, but it was extremely rare. In other times, wars had been fought over spices like that.
Sen took the fawn and swept the blood soaked canvas to the sink. He carefully laid the body of the little fawn out on the cutting board. He took his knife and swiftly drew it across the neck of the animal, severing it's clean in a single blow. Metal through muscle, with no wasted motion. Then He held the animal down firmly, and cut it open. The hunter had dressed it in field, so all Sen needed to do was cut it a apart. He cut the fawn in half, then spit it upon his hook. He tied the rope to the eyelet and then up. The Fawn dangled awkwardly as Sen worked at it, cutting apart it's flesh with the knife. Rump, legs, Shank,Ribs. Everything separated. The flesh of the fawn was springy, easy to slice with a sharp knife.
He pulled the skin back and tossed it into the sink. Finally, Sen wrapped the head in leaves, and placed it in a large tew pot that was already simmering.
Some of the meat went into the stew, but a lot it was pulled to be hung. He rubbed the flesh down with a reddish-yellow spice that emanated coriander and saffron. Finally, He was done. The meat wouldn't feed many people, but it had a more delicate, special use.
There waits a body in the mist. The shape is hard to make out, even for a Valkyn'Vi, who have perfect night vision. But as Sen approaches him, he makes out that it who he expected. The man waits, sitting still in the heart of the forest with a heavy canvas wrapped package over his legs. He has a dagger in his hand. It's red tinted blade glimmers in the starlight.
The man's face is blacked, darkened to make him effective in his profession. His cloths are dirty, and leafy. They also help him to ovoid being spotted in by his prey. He tosses the package to Sen as the cook approaches. Sen hefts in one hand, and more importantly, smells it. He sets it between his legs and pulls an amber vial from his side pouch. He opens the top, and hands it to the man in black. The man in black takes a light breath and smiles. Sen tosses him the top, and walks back to the Inn, smiling to himself.
The Cook sets the package on the large wooden cutting board and reaches into his tools. He pulls out a large, leather wrapped knife that is nearly a foot long. It tapers to a razor sharp point, and had a small groove running the length of it's dark blade. He also takes out a large hook, made of steel and formed in a wicked curve. It has a sharp point, and an eyelet on the back for rope. Finally he takes out a six foot length of good silk rope from one of his boxes.
Sen unties the tiny twine ties holding the flaps of the package together. Four sets, for four sides. Once loose, he unfolds the canvas. Crimson stains upon the cloth are revealed to Sen's Lamplight as the crows cackle behind him.
“Sen,Sen,Sen,Sen.” The crows call out. Quoth, the largest of the birds caws the loudest. He is still wounded from his attack, but the soft feathers were starting to fill back in. The crimson stains are still warm. Sen finally unravels the cavnvas to reveal the body of a fawn. It was male, and tiny nubbings of it's horn can be seen. The hunter's arrow, long since removed caught the creature in a lethal location. Sen imagined the hunter now, enjoying the spices he'd given him. A tiny amount of spice, but it was extremely rare. In other times, wars had been fought over spices like that.
Sen took the fawn and swept the blood soaked canvas to the sink. He carefully laid the body of the little fawn out on the cutting board. He took his knife and swiftly drew it across the neck of the animal, severing it's clean in a single blow. Metal through muscle, with no wasted motion. Then He held the animal down firmly, and cut it open. The hunter had dressed it in field, so all Sen needed to do was cut it a apart. He cut the fawn in half, then spit it upon his hook. He tied the rope to the eyelet and then up. The Fawn dangled awkwardly as Sen worked at it, cutting apart it's flesh with the knife. Rump, legs, Shank,Ribs. Everything separated. The flesh of the fawn was springy, easy to slice with a sharp knife.
He pulled the skin back and tossed it into the sink. Finally, Sen wrapped the head in leaves, and placed it in a large tew pot that was already simmering.
Some of the meat went into the stew, but a lot it was pulled to be hung. He rubbed the flesh down with a reddish-yellow spice that emanated coriander and saffron. Finally, He was done. The meat wouldn't feed many people, but it had a more delicate, special use.