A Battered Worn Journal


Following a lead I came to this battered hell hole of a town filled with mutants and people getting along. Nice not to have to hide myself.
They told me that the bastards were last seen this way, apparently working with a gang called 'The Jokers.' They said they would give me their location, but first I have to help with some sort of 'water problem.'


Fucking water. Give me a man and I know where to shoot. Water is a different story. Working with a ragtag group at the moment. The villagers said they had experience with the Jokers before, but so far all they have done is taken field trips to find a pump to try and fight this weird ass black water. Ran over a guy. That was interesting.


More delays. Food shortage, wendigo hunting, mechanics talk. Feh. I'm getting restless. The more time we waste on frivolous matters the bigger the chance that my leads will grow cold. I'm close. Nothing matters except hunting those bastards down. Nothing.

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