Writings of a Hunter

[The Old Ye Bard]

Writings of a Hunter

Gnash went his teeth, flaring them as if to scare me. But know do I that he could not escape from his prison of steal even with his claws so sharp.

I captured him not two weeks ago, the hunt was good and long, my Akaviri ancestors would of been proud. Imperial Law states that we are not allowed to preform acts of the hunt upon Imperial Citizens, however when a Bounty is placed upon one of the Catmen, we are allowed to take blood in any shape that we desire.
Ofcourse most of the time it's only that Feral lot that prowl the deserts, often infected with rabies, or some other infection that has turned them Wild, so the hunt is limited, if not mundane. A true hunter is one that hunts prey with cunning and stealth, and not too often is a D.O.A. placed upon them, so one such as it is rare, though not as rare that I haven't done so before.
On one such occasion, I briefly turned into the hunted when I dropped my Crossbow in the dark, and the beast captured it, sticking a bolt right through my shoulder; it never really healed, and the surgeons back in Rimmen could only do what little they could to remove it. Occasionly fragments that couldn't be taken out will rip open parts of my shoulder, and I have to go back into see the practioner and get sewn back up, least I bleed myself to death from the inside; but I wear such a flaw in my body as a trophe of the hunt, that I hunted something so cunning that it hurt me in such a way, yet that I still came out on top is a tribute to my skills as a hunter.

Officially, the Empire can't do a thing about me and the other hunters' meetings that we hold, the Cat Men hate us, but that's fair enough for we do exclusively hunt their kin, taking no other bounties, but we can't be imprisoned for what we do, because we only take Imperial-Sanctioned Bounties; there are rules in the hunt that must be observed, least we become as Rabid as those that we kill. This is sport, not murder.
I know some that have other arrangements, but personally I do not deal under the table, for punishment for doing so is to be given over to the Khajiit for dealing with; often being totured, then left in the gallows to die in the streets of Corinth, or another one of their cities.

I have many trophes on my walls, too many to count really, dating all the way back to my first kill when I went out on a trip with my father a lifetime ago; the prey's head is mounted on my wall, but I wear a necklace made of his claws around my neck, something to remember such a glorious day by.

I can never let the blood stop flowing, too much of it have I taken now.