A Change of Location
(It's unclear who wrote this journal...)
I have become used to hiding. I hid my arm from customers, not to mention my hag of a sister, when my skeletal curse first began to claim it. Later, I hid my name, then my voice, and – reluctantly – my face. Whenever a fresh start was needed, I would depart. Retreat, too, is a part of war. Thankfully, I have become quite adept at sailing beneath the waves, an advantage shared both by Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman itself. Jones was wise to ally with the Sirens. Temperamental as they are, their spires and fortresses are born from the sea, and Jones cannot set foot on land. As his allies, we shall soon carry the Eternal Bargain of Davy Jones to places he may not tread. I have arrived, and the Dark Brethren court is about to form...
