Day Seven-Hundred-One: The Rightful Narrator

Wayback. 

The, uh, the town. The town I don't remember visiting at all. Its name is... was... Wayback.

Hi. My name's Dragomir. I've been absent for a while. I guess I'm back now.

I'm still utterly exhausted, so I spent all of today in bed. Doc's potion... man, I can't believe Libby let him handle the doctorin'... took a lot out of me. I have zero energy. Anyone who wanted to see me after my long nap had to come visit - and, nice boost to my ego, that was virtually everyone on the Dauphine. Only person who didn't was Grylock, and I don't mind his absence. Little bastard burned pages of my diary.

Thanks to the testimonies of my many visitors, I've more or less learned what happened while I was out. (The previous entries helped, as well. Nice to read back on what I missed.) After capturing Doc... and... blowing him to pieces... the crew of the Dauphine proceeded to utterly demolish the remains of Wayback. There were no signs of life in the aftermath, so we're forced to assume that Doc and his buddies  killed everyone living here before we arrived on Thursday.

Yep. We'll... we'll just assume that. Better they were already dead than being held hostage... and buried by cannonfire. Yikes.

Unfortunately, the only body belonging to the baddies found was that of the purple goblin bounty hunter, Chewtoy. He looked to have been killed by a slash to his midsection, so the cannonfire didn't kill him. Logan's blade did. It's entirely possible that the rest of the bounty hunters, as well as Titan Blue and crazy-ass CeDrisArd, managed to get away. I don't care about the bounty hunters, but I hope the rest got out alive. I don't think they'll bother us so long as Doc is dead.

Crazy fuck. He'd better be dead.

Unfortunately, Libby's rash act of blowing the shit outta Doc destroyed any chance of getting a pressing question answered: Why was he so obsessed with capturing me? Clearly Doc wanted to pick at my body. I assume the Crimson Catastrophe in my hands had something to do with it, but... well, I think there was more than that. He wanted more. Now I may never know what. Maybe I'm better off not knowing, but... shit, you know? Shit.

Enough grisly news. I'm really tired. I need more sleep. I'd probably already be asleep, but I've had to listen to Libby arguing with Traveller outside my door. He wants in; she wants him to go away. I'm all for him going away, seeing as how he put me in a fucking coma. Comas, I've discovered, are a good way to start a grudge. Why the hell is he still here?

We're headed... somewhere. I dunno. Don't really care at the moment. It's to the west, and west is good. West is not east.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Bedridden