He uses antlers in all of his decorating.

Jaak de Fleury, ladies and gentlemen. The Princeling wanted the best, and by Love and Reason, the best—that he could afford, and locate, that was willing to leave the Three Kingdoms for exile to the rainy south—well, that’s what he’s gonna get.

Jaak (“Jake”) is small but strong. Somewhere up his line of fathers is an Andarien warlord or two; he has the dun hair and the forehead and the grey eyes; but younger sons get short ends, and enough short ends leave you with empty pockets. Jaak’s a working man, albeit a highly specialized one: a showman, of sorts, a master at preparing and organizing the grand spectacle that is hunting par force chiens, “by strengthe of houndes.”

Of all hounds, the finest sport one can have is with the running-hounds... It is a fine thing to harbour a beast and to take it by strength of hounds and by craft, and to see the sense and knowledge which God gave to the good hounds... for with the greyhounds and other dogs, good as they may be, a beast is taken or lost immediately, but the running-hound must hunt till the day’s end, talking and crying in its own tongue, reviling the beast it pursues; so I prefer them to any other breed of dog, for they have more virtue in them, it seems to me, than any other animal.

If I were to write Jaak up for Primetime Adventures, why, it would look something like this.

His issue would be his love for the hunt: It’s all he has left, so far from home, with no family about him; it is the thing his life depends on—but the pride he takes in it, and his insistence on the right and proper things to do, prevent him from connecting with others about him, and he is rude and dismissive when he ought to be obsequious or at least listening; he would have three edges, being his skill as a hunter, his uncanny rapport with animals (especially dogs), and the bit of crystal wrapped in leather he keeps in his pocket which he will pull out and peer through from time to time on a hunt; his contacts are with his lymer-hounds, raised by his own hand, who would die for him (and without exaggeration it may be said no finer pack of lymer-hounds is to be found in all Yaakni’ Páyyatha), and the patronage of the Princeling (and all that that implies); his nemesis—well, probably one of the Princeling’s Best and Brightest who doesn’t like this upstart pissing all over Gætani tradition, why, his family’s been hunting bow-and-stable for how long now? —But we don’t really need to get into that. Jaak’s not a Protagonist, he’s a Special Guest Star, and he’ll mostly be clashing with the Wolf priest, I’m thinking.

Hunting: this Wikipedia page is a fair start, especially down here at the hart, which outlines the eight stages of par force hunting. (Bow-and-stable—well, the Gætani don’t call it that, because there’s no need to name the one thing you do when there’s not much else, but it’s sort of what we were improvising on Sunday, except the Wolves don’t use hounds, which makes some sense, since they’re supposed to be bad-ass scary woodsmen ranger-types anyway.)

Do note that Jaak will have a crack team under him: assistant huntsmen to aid in the quest, handlers to couple and uncouple the hounds for the relays, and a smooth-talking salesman assistant stage-manager or two to help him sweet-talk the nobles through the assembly and position them properly for the chase and the baying. (For the unmaking: the ranking noble present presides over the unmaking, and Jaak’s been training the Princeling in the ritual cuts, but Jaak’s still prone to sucking his teeth and tutting at crucial moments. Still, the Princeling I would imagine did order himself a lovely set of gem-encrusted knives for the task.) —Said crack team is up for grabs, of course.

Do note that the quest takes place over several days, and the other seven steps are usually on the same day, though they can be done more than once on successive days—a hart quested today, a boar tomorrow, etc.

Some ancillary issues: Jaak is supremely put out that some of his hounds will be quartered up here in the ass-end of nowhere for the Princeling’s pleasure; the covenant will need to set up kennels on rather short notice. Also: Jaak still can’t speak Gætani for shit.