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Crystal Dust - Research into Unconventional Alchemy IX

Journal of Conrad Azohi - Day 622 after embarking

Summer is ending soon, and with it, my time here, in this cavern. Traders will be coming, and I am to leave with them. My host says that he doesn't know which nation they hail from, but they don't speak the Imperial tongue, so I will need to communicate in more rudimentary ways. I don't know where I will go after we make it to their homeland, but there will be more options than are currently available to me, so I look forward to the event.

However, at the same time, I feel that I will miss this place, and my host in particular. In these last few days, he has opened up to me, and begun speaking about himself. I was so used to his silent manner that it shocked me when he began to talk about himself, and it left enough of an impression that I can clearly recall the first things he told me about himself:

"You're lucky, Conrad. Not everyone has a chance like you had. The funding you received for this project of yours was more than I would have ever imagined receiving. In my days as an alchemist, I was stuck brewing stain removers and alcohol to peddle on the riverfront. Sometimes I even had to collect scrap metal to purify into gold to bay bills with. I thought I was lucky when someone came and commissioned something from me. They wanted a kind of powder that would be easy to pass off as a gift or a decoration, but would act as a contact poison. I knew I was being commissioned to kill someone, but the payment was too tempting. I thought, for sure, that they wouldn't know it had been me who made it. I was wrong.

"The law came along and tried to arrest me, so I ran. So many years ago. I didn't know what I was doing. I used the money the man had payed me with to purchase a way across the ocean. After a while I ended up in this desert, lost like you were, wandering in the uncharted western reaches with only a little food and water left. That's how I ended up here, in this cave. I've been here decades, now. I've grown to where I prefer it to my old life. There's no stress, and I occasionally find people in the sands who I can help. In fact, I hadn't even thought about home until you came along. You should try and go back, though. You have a chance to make a name for yourself."

Afterwards, he agreed to tell me about the toxic compound he made. It is a unique kind of poison, which operates without the presence of mors. This is such a strange quality that I deemed it a valid entry for my journal.