JOURNAL ENTRY #4: KITCHEN

Just entered the Dixie Pig kitchen, where the horrendous animal smell is strongest. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, since this kitchen was the center of the Pig’s vilest activities. I’ve counted three major kill zones, all of them ancient. One is in front of the sinks, another is splattered on the wall near the entrance to the dining room, and the third is by the stoves. In addition, I’ve found two ribcages skewered by an iron spit, and what appears to be a human backbone on one of the steam tables. There’s a desiccated Grandfather Flea on a countertop—Jake’s bumbler must have taken out a few vermin on his way through here.

When I stood over the stove bloodstain I picked up the image of a grey-skinned warthog, but in chef’s whites. Some kind of can-toi? By the sinks I sensed a cat, but it stood on human legs. In my mind’s eye, I saw the cat’s head sliced off by what I can only think was an Oriza. That must have been Jake’s handiwork! While in this kitchen, he held back a veritable army of hume and can-toi Sombra operatives before escaping into the tunnels beneath the Pig. I can only hope that he took out at least a dozen of those monstrous Sombra bastards.

No sign of an Evermore battery yet. No surprises there. Right now, it looks like my ticket to the Dogan of all Dogans might be one-way. Let’s hope luck is on my side...