Living in the undercity, or Zaun, can be quite a battle itself. Fighting to survive, really. Having to haggle, scrap, steal, and even at times nearly kill to get what you want…well…used to.

They — the people of Zaun — still do, but with how things changed now, it’s becoming less. Less with The Hound making sure all peace is around, that is. That man he is. Remarkable.

Everyone is more united and more of a community, but the struggles to even survive for food is still there. Goodness was it a headache to eat the same indistinguishable slop everyday…but it was meals nonetheless. Better to eat something unidentifiable than fight over some mere fruits — that was a lie, hah.

But there he was, the man himself at his usual bar. Tending drinks, conversing with that same pipe in his hand — you always did wonder what the flavor was but never did dabble into such things. Ugh! Even the smell. You either get used to it or not, down here—

Ah, right…what are you doing here anyways? Easily so sidetracked you were.