DEC. 5TH 7:28 PM
Hustling people outside of the tunnel is getting old, albeit hardly nobody comes around and its mainly myself with the piss mildew on the floor. I set up a makeshift den in this place as to suit my needs; its really just a quickly thrown together hovel that I furnished with a bunch of stolen imports. Rugs, and the like, see?
I've yet to meet the owner, or should I say, matriarch, of this place. From what I can make out from this man's journal and the folks around here, she is some sort of greatly feared warrior who has ties all over the place. This Dakki or what have you seems to be some derivative island daemon with no regards to her culture, being that she doesn't observe any. The most curious thing I've found, though, is the fact that she now possesses The Eye, that is that old ne'er-do-well Leon Wickit's orb. Interesting that he still lives, but then again, I am up and about, too. Never the less I need to meet with this woman in order to cement my residence here, and to gain access to whatever they have down here. Strange folk, though.
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