Entry from Kilkarak’s Expedition Journal Day 169

Today I had to kill. Dashyl knew it. It was not the first time I have killed, but it is the first time that my son has known that I have killed. His name was Gareth Balerin, a carapid hunter from Expedition Heights. He spotted us making our way across a flowery meadow a short distance from the banks of the Cerulean. He rode an immense igwaza that he called Goldrinder. The creature’s harness was fitted with different types of radia that attracted various carapids. I have cut part of the harness off the beast’s scaly hide and will use it to attract a starskin carapid.

The reason Gareth had to die is that he might have killed the very creature we are tracking. As he approached, I signaled that I was not hostile and believing me was the hunter’s first mistake. He questioned me and I explained we were on a research mission pertaining to arthids. He suspected we were collecting arthid toxin. In that he was right. Where he was wrong was he thought we were collecting it for weaponry, not experimentation.

At this point, Gareth should have taken us into custody and bound our hands, but for some reason he seemed sympathetic to my situation. He asked me to have a meal with him. As we ate, he explained how he had tracked carapid all his life, exterminating the biggest and most dangerous beasts on Veratar. Expedition Heights is on the edge of the vast wilderness that separates the Protectorate lands from the Legion lands. A handful of Independent city-states and a wide swath of wild country form a buffer between the two factions. Gareth described his long history of patrolling this wilderness and we drained many cups into the afternoon. The hunter grew wistful in his expression, as if he had a respect for his prey and saw a connection between us in our reliance on carapids to make a living.

While Gareth left to relieve himself, I pulled Dashyl aside to explain what needed to be done, no questions asked. Dashyl performed his task perfectly and distracted the carapid hunter long enough for me to poison his drink. My son then poisoned the drinking water of the igwaza as I made small talk with Gareth, waiting for the poison to work. He told me that he was sorry, but that he would have to take me prisoner and up to the Carapid Ward at Hecatyn for keeping.

"Don't try to poison me," the hunter had even said. "I know you chemists create your toxins from carapids and I am immune to all known carapid toxins." He said this with a wry smile on his face, but soon delirium swam in his eyes. Our toxins may come from carapids, but that doesn't mean we chemists haven't improved upon them in the course of our studies. As the poison took effect, a poison of my own concoction to bypass any built-up immunities, I took the opportunity to ask him about the starskin carapid. “Vile beast,” he spat. “You don’t see them very much these days, but they’re out there.” Then he let slip the information that the purple crystals on his harness were said to attract starskins. He boasted about killing a few during his long career. Then his throat seized up and panic filled his eyes, but by then he couldn’t breath. He convulsed for a moment, and then vomited his share of the meal and drink we just consumed and grew still. Goldrinder soon succumbed to his larger dose, thrashing and writhing, and we took the purple crystals when the creature's mouth finally stopped spewing froth and bile.

My son did not seem affected by the creature’s death or my killing of the old warrior. To him, these were simply tasks to carry out during our expedition. Since using the saffira stone that Dashyl took from the Akrasa settlement, my ribs have healed nicely. I feel I am almost at full strength. We are in range of the creature we seek and fortune has been on our side since leaving the canyon. I am optimistic our expedition will find a successful conclusion. Dashyl and I seem resourceful enough to survive.