March leaned over the bubbling waters of the small creek that led down to his target's camp, fingering a small vial of reddish-clear liquid. He had just arrived, and he intended to leave sooner rather than later.
Uncapping the vial, he gazed at the Idel poison with a colorless eye underneath the helmet.
He had spent the last few hours of last night distilling this poison, making sure there'd be enough that, if he put it in the creek a few hundred feet upstream to his target, that'd it still poison him…
And, at the amount he held in his hand, this creek for several miles downstream would be fatal to drink from for the next week.
Fifteen Idel berries…
Enough to kill over a hundred men…
March slowly tipped it into the water, watching the red disappear into the clear bluish tint and white foam. Stepping back, he cocked his ear up and listened intently as the Imagineer's camp reveille began a few hundred feet away.
He smirked and slunk back into the bushes.
Just a few more minutes, maybe hours, and then…
His target and his companions would be drinking to their deaths.