Era of Airag

[Ixzo]

47th of Summer, 516AV

"What is this?" Ixzo asked, approaching the white haired elder as she seemed to be milking a mare. Was that common? Milking anything other than a goat was rare back home, but she had learned that the Drykas live off many more dairy products than were available to her in the Jungle.

"Oh!" The old Drykas started, turning stiffly to look up at Ixzo's dark form. The lioness was peering at the strange looking dishes by the fire now, rather than disgusted by the woman's activity. She was slowly growing used to using herd animals for more than simply meat. Still, she was confused what a horse's milk may be used for. "Airag my dear." The woman spoke nonchalantly. Her hands were busy, otherwise Ixzo was sure she would have received a sign for the obvious. The obvious which she did not understand.

"Airag?" She repeated the foreign word, uncertain about what it meant.

"Fermented Mare's milk?" The elder finally stood, bracing her knee with one hand and picking up the bucket with the other. With the comfort of any Drykas with a horse, she patted the mare's rump, and the horse moved slightly but did not spook. Apparently it hadn't smelled Ixzo yet. Unwilling to break the serenity with her hunting instincts, Ixzo turned away from the horse and woman again, crouching beside a curved pan to pick it up.

[Ixzo]

"Your Pavi is very good for a foreigner." The old woman approaching behind her. Ixzo turned slightly to give thanks with a sign, even as the woman continued talking. "But if you don't know what Airag is, it is best you learn." The woman was likely feeling generous, as some other Drykas had. Ixzo had been here much longer than the refugees she rescued last season, still she was willing to ask questions, testing the waters to see those Drykas who hated her for being foreign and those who sympathized. As it seemed, this old woman was kind.

"Yes, I would like to know." She agreed, eyeing the sloshing bucket of thick milk.

"Well then, come on, girl." The woman didn't seem to bat an eye, meandering past her. "You're gonna learn today."

Ixzo stood, standing at nearly a foot and a half over the white hair of the pale elder, and followed anyway. Keeping an eye on the beasts that the woman owned, Ixzo waiting outside the tent as the woman ducked in. She didn't feel right entering a strangers dwelling, especially when she didn't know her name.

The woman emerged with a quart sized clay container and a medium wooden pail. Immediately, Ixzo gently relieved the aging Drykas of the object. While not heavy, it was awkward to hold on such a small frame. Thank you, Dotra. The woman spoke. Ixzo opened her mouth to give the standard reply, but shut it at the word. She knew she was not this woman's daughter, but she felt a little comfort that the Drykas would refer to her in such a friendly way, even as a clear foreigner.

"Thank you." She spoke instead, perhaps making too much note of the casual drop of the word.

[Ixzo]

"Do not fret over it child, I was going to be making some more anyway." The old one turned to her, shoving the clay container into her other hand. "This is the last of mine, I'll give it to you if you help me make the rest." Shifting, chores. "My arms are old and I do not live with a Pavilion, your young muscles will help me." Strong, Expected duty. The old woman moved back into her nonchalant tones, as if she expected nothing less than the much younger Ixzo to be helping her with her chores.

For the first time, the huntress glanced around the single, small tent. Did this woman live alone? Without a Pavilion? Ixzo decided not to think about it, instead speaking up. "Where to put the barrel?" She lifted the wooden pail which was much smaller than any barrel.

"Pail, you mean?" The woman corrected her.

Sorry. "Yes, Pail." She nodded, and the old one waved in front of her.

Anywhere. She signed, crouching down beside the bucket of mare's milk as well. Ixzo moved beside her, setting the thing down next to it, which was when she noticed the cloth neatly folded inside. With light fingers she plucked the off-white cheesecloth from the bucket, holding it up.

[Ixzo]

"The milk is filtered through a cloth, then poured into another bucket." The old woman launched into explaining, and Ixzo nodded, there was not a lot of milk in the bucket already, and after filtering the solid pieces out, there would be less. But perhaps that was fine if it was just this elder on her own.

"Can this, Airag, be made much larger?" Ixzo asked, waving towards the about two gallons of milk, which certainly did not all come from one mare, that the woman crouched in front of. Even with her broken Pavi, the white haired drykas seemed to follow.

"Yes, Pavilions which have more mares than my two will make a vat full, but I do not need that much." As the old woman took the cheesecloth from her, she suddenly realized something.

"Why not just drink milk?" She asked, settling into her crouch. "We do with goat, with zibri?" Curious. She asked, and the woman paused, thinking it over for a moment.

"Mare's milk is used as a laxative. We give it to children who eat something bad at the River Flower. But fermenting it makes it more agreeable with one's stomach." The flurry of formal words as an explanation dazed Ixzo for a moment, but after she processed it, she understood and nodded. Something was different between raw milk in different animals, that made sense. She guessed it must taste good though, otherwise wouldn't they simply not drink it?

[Ixzo]

"Okay, now just tie the cloth around the bucket like this." She straightened the cheesecloth across the empty bucket, patting the inside to make a small bowl in the strainer. Then she fastened one side across the bucket. AS she did so, Ixzo quickly tied the other as well so the cloth would hold on the bucket when they poured the milk in. Following the train of thought, Ixzo took two crouched steps towards the woman, lifting the bucket of milk with ease and gently pouring it over the cloth. The indent in the cloth filled up quick with the thick liquid, but she could hear it dripping through to the bucket. When the milk line lowered a bit, Ixzo poured a little more.

"Perfect, my dear." The old woman commented, watching her, as if straining milk was a hard job. Ixzo didn't let the milk over flow to the side, but occasionally had to pause the pouring so it could drain more before filling it back up. Once all the milk had been poured through the cheesecloth, they could see the thick fat that stayed over the cloth, making it impossible for the rest of the liquid milk to go through. Gently, Ixzo swirled a finger in the middle, moving the fat aside to let the milk drain through.

"Now there is still a little left, so just squeeze it out." Ixzo nodded, gently pulling the tied ends of the cloth from the bucket, gathering them together at the top. Gently so she did not push the fat into what they had just drained, Ixzo squeezed the last of the liquid out into the bucket.

"Wonderful. Now, I will let it sit for two or three days and it will be ready. I like to make liquor out of it." The old woman shared, and Ixzo grinned. Of course they'd find a way to make alcohol from milk, these Drykas were great.

"I do want to know how to learn that." She asked, shaking the last drops of milk from the cheesecloth.

"Find me in a few days, and I may teach you." No promises. But Ixzo nodded anyway, a low bow of her head in thanks.

"That is it?" She asked, looking down at the bucket of strained milk. Surely didn't seem like much work.

"I leave it at the entrance of my tent and every time I enter or exit, I stir it a bit. It will make sure all the milk ferments equally, that way it tastes best." The white haired Drykas produced a wooden spoon, stirring the more viscous milk with two quick stirs. Ixzo nodded, standing gracefully to her full height and ducked to pick up the bucket. She set it by the tent flap and returned to the woman who was slowly standing up herself.

[Ixzo]

"What to make with fat?" She asked, holding up the cheesecloth. One thing her Myrians had in common with her Drykas was that neither put anything to waste. All was used out here, and if they were draining milk, so this fat must be as well.

"Ah, leave it." She waved the cloth over, and Ixzo handed it to her, confused. "I let it curdle for a few days as well and make cheese. Until then, to keep the smell away, I hang it outside my tent." The elder hobbled over to the tent, loosening a strap of the canvas atop that kept the rain away. With practiced fingers, she looped the rope through the tied end of the cheesecloth, letting it hang on the side of the tent.

"And there you are, foreigner." The old lady turned around, wiping her hands on her dress. Ixzo smiled at her, a little happy that she had learned this small thing about the Drykas. "A Drykas staple. Now, if you find me again in a few days, we can make cheese and liquor. A few other Drykas want to teach the foreigners some things as well. If they learn our ways, perhaps those close minded youngin's won't be so averse to them." Silly prejudice. The big words confused Ixzo a little more, but she just nodded along.

"I will find you." Promise. "Let me gift you first." Ixzo reached into her pocket, scooping out two gold coins and extending them towards the woman. "I will bring meat next time." She promised. The old woman made no effort to decline the payment, which Ixzo was glad for. She knew some Drykas who were modest, remembering her friend Waisana, but it was clear this elder was more practical than polite, which Ixzo liked.

[Ixzo]

"I want rabbit or hog." She said, hobbling past Ixzo to pick something up. "I only ever get chickens or quail from the market, and I am tired of poultry." She commented, turning back to Ixzo with the Aigar in her hands again. "Take this, that is all you will get from me. And you may call me Madam Naomi Cutgrass."

"Then I bring rabbit and hog. I am Ixzo of the Shorn-" She paused, remembering that she had reassigned her allegiance. Of course the Shorn Skulls would always be her family, but the Stormbloods were those she now owed. She gave a low bow in thanks for the Aigar, then corrected herself. "Ixzo Stormblood." The name sounded a bit weird on her tongue, and the old woman raised an eyebrow.

"You keep them, girl. You must be doing something right if an Ankal has taken you in." The words were suddenly grave, the casual humor that had dictated their previous lesson having left entirely. Ixzo's smiled vanished and she immediately thought of how the woman was alone. Her instinct was to offer her a place in her tent, having found the elder already more useful than most Drykas, but it was not her place.

Not particularly fond of the suddenly serious tone, Ixzo grinned at the woman, trying to return to their earlier comfort. "Want to learn the liquor, Madam Cutgrass." The white haired drykas laughed and turned around.

"Maybe!" She called, hobbling back over towards her mare to continue whatever Ixzo had interrupted. The Kelvic turned away, a shadow of a smile remaining on her face as she made a beeline for her Pavilion, cradling her Airag close. Surely they would all know of the stranger fermented milk, but she craved this new knowledge. Although a huntress, the idea of new recipes and the Drykas cooling was exhilarating, and she couldn’t wait to learn more.

Info :

NPC. Source. -2 gm.

[Jasmine Stormblood]

Let me know if i missed anything dear

 

Ixzo

XP

• Socialization: 5 XP
• Brewing: 3 XP
• Cooking: 1 XP

Lores

• Airag: fermented mare's milk
• Airag: used as a laxative
• Brewing: strain the fat from the milk
• Brewing: all the milk to sit for a few days to ferment
• Cooking: let the fat curdle for a few days to make cheese
• Ixzo: surprised to be called Dotra
• Naomi Cutgrass: willing to teach and outsider
• Pails are smaller than barrels

Miscellaneous

• -2 GM