First Day of the Hunt
They tell me the beast is no typical monster. Bound to the very planet by infernal root and treacherous stem, the Hybrid is as much plant as animal, a demon and a blossom of death. It will not be the first such creature I have faced, but I must prepare. Every hunt is unique. I shall take my time, and study the beast.
Second Day of the Hunt
The jabbering little Lopp are little more than prey dressed up as merchants and playing at the hunt. They are not my targets today, but they
will tell me of the Hybrid. This “stemdragon.” They say it hoards some fantastic treasure, but I care not. The only thing I want from this Hybrid is a truly challenging hunt.
Third Day of the Hunt
I have followed the course the Lopp gave me, and told them I would bring news of any “shinies” I should find. A promise I shall keep, ridiculous as it may be, if the Lopp have treated with me honorably. They have no reason not to. The hoard is of no use to me. It is only the head of the Hybrid, my trophy, th
at I seek.
I have emerged from a hidden cave network into a secluded glen cut off from the rest of the region. Now to study my prey from a distance… if I find it before it finds me.
Fourth Day of the Hunt
The Lopp will pay for this. This is no Hybrid! No “dragon”! There is nothing of the beast about this creature at all! It is a flower, nothing more. A large flower, true, but nothing a sharp blade cannot slice down in a single blow.
Still, only a fool rushes the hunt. I have found a place to
observe the creature. Perhaps there is more to it than meets the eye. I released a few small decoybots disguised as jabbits to see what this stemdragon made of them. Then it came to life in an instant, snapping at one of them immediately. It barely damaged one of the decoys before giving up, however. The Lopp insist the thing ran them out of the valley. How? It is rooted to the very valley floor! Not even a robotic decoy was able to get itself caught by the stemdragon. What danger could
it have posed to the Lopp? The vermin are making sport of me, I think. Tomorrow, I shall begin the hunt. I do not expect it to take long.
Fifth Day of the Hunt
The Hybrid fooled me, and earned its name, for my hunt does not go as planned. I knew it was fast, but it can move. I mean, really move – it erupted from the ground in a shower of earth and stone, roaring into the sky, and charged on strong legs of fibrous sinew! A dragon indeed, big as a shuttlecraft and fierce as a space-crazed pumera. Now I
have become the prey, or so it must believe. But I am patient. This wound is not mortal. I can wait in this tree for some time. It must return to the soil eventually.
And when it does, I have a new plan. Trophies are overrated. I will burn this creature to ashes, or I shall die trying.
[The state of this journal and the lack of subsequent entries seems to indicate the Draken hunter who kept this journal went with the latter option.]