I weren't never one for writing about my life. The king-priests of old deserve their stories told, but Drokt is a simple man. So this isn't no journal and I'm not telling any stories here. But this infernal machine done worked its way into my brainspace and I won't leave till it's figured out. The whole contraption just sets like a dead horker if it doesn't have the box. Putting the box in the hole made it all come to life. So I did. Tried to leave, but wolves to the top and them eyeless freaks outside the tower. Gotta stay here till I get it right. And I will get it right.
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