Ship's Log, Fosterling, Mosquito-class shuttle

Date: On or about five months after yearspawn, 5165 Olven Calender; 2 Kab, Year of the Toad in local reckoning.

Position: Towed behind Tranquil Knight, On route to Kal-Tor, forbiddenspace (outer sphere)

Ship's condition: All fast and well supplied

I already regret leaving the barge behind at the shipyard, but am unwilling to return for it, and my former employer can well use it in my absence. The space could have been well used, I think, regardless of how it would impact our maneuverability. I have taken a short flight in an attempt to assay the virtues of Fosterling's new helm and controls. To date, I have few complaints. After a few maneuvers designed more as an attempt to familiarize the groundlings with where they will be in the way of the crew than any fault with the crew themselves, I have tethered a line, and am currently under tow.

As I gaze at my new ship, I feel compelled to speak about her. Her foreverwood inner hull is thin, like all such craft, leaving somewhat more room in each cabin. I have had few complaints about my adjustments, and little doubt, for I have employed many elven techniques as well as some tricks learned in obscure areas. On her main deck, the overly large captain's cabin I have surrendered, and replaced with a large lounge (The attached tail compartment is currently empty, but has an open top to host a sizable garden). My own cabin is in the room which traditionally hosts the helm (it more than suffices for my needs, and when I wish more space I have Fosterling; The helm, in turn, now resides on the lower deck, in the room normally used by the helmsman as a cabin. Moody, our primary helmsman, does not sleep, though the small room directly beneath the new helm room is assigned to him as well. The crew occupies the traditional cabin, along with the female passengers, while the artillerists and most male passengers occupy the room which normally hosts the galley. The upper deck has been fitted with a series of channels which feed into a small cistern partitioned off of the small room off of the companionway. That partition is repeated on the lower deck; a ceiling valve and ceramic basin creating a functional shower. I fear I can not claim complete credit for this innovation, as it mimics something I saw in the home I rented on Brindol, but the bravest portion is mine, namely the channels. I have placed bars of iron in them at present, but when we are close enough to spheres I know I intend to replace them with blue ice. Each time I cast a spell of fog to revivify the air, the moisture which normally causes so much trouble will flow down the channels into the cistern. It already functions marginally well with the iron when I also cast a spell to chill the metal, but it is a fearful waste of spellpower without the blue ice, and my amulet is far too small (and far too precious) to use in such a manner.

The main hold I have removed the central decking from. The support spars still remain, of course, but the effect is one large area with gravity bisecting it. The area gained by so revealing the stowage area is hardly worth the effort, but it saved me a considerable sum in building materials; foreverwood is expensive! The deck of the aft hold was raised somewhat, and a passage made to the lounge. This was largely done because I have installed a jettison there. While they are hardly the strongest weapon, naval life has made me accustomed to using the jettison to dispose of ship's waste, and the convenience to both garden, galley, and head made the positioning ideal. Beneath the jettison, on the stowage level, is found the head, as well as such of my not inconsiderable library as is not lounging under my bunk. I have already discussed with the crew the dire consequences of damaging any of the valuable tomes. Secretly, it is my hope that many of them will learn something, as they will certainly spend time there regardless. The mid-hold I have assigned as a mate's cabin, and have extended it somewhat towards the aft hull.. Gloval, the elderly officer I hired as mate, has commanded line warships in his time, and deserves the chance for some privacy. On the stowage level below him is the room I have called the solarium in my mind. It includes the area normally used for light stowage beneath the mid-hold, but extends all the way to the aft wall of the vessel (next to the head, though I have been careful to seal the walls there well). I reinforced the bracing in that area so that I can remove a section of the hull and replace it with a dome of enchanted glass. It may well be that I will substitute the kind of heavy crystal often used in other ship hulls, but I feared to damage Knight's seaworthiness too greatly. Now that Fosterling is powered again, I may soon choose to take that shortcut, and use her as a shuttle for water landings.

The other, and most obvious, alteration I have made is also the simplest. I placed a large lamp sphere atop the forward keel. The ship does not need the light to stay alive, but it will be useful for the other purposes I learned in the navy. The lack of a need for a sunlamp did get me thinking though. In many ways I am worried about what I will find when I have delved deeply into the lore concerning the foreverwood. It regrows rapidly. It needs no leaves, roots, or water. It is precicely like dead wood, but somehow alive regardless. Too much it reminds me not of endless life, but unlife. I think that the most disconcerting aspect of it is that it does not breathe. When I served aboard Flyer, I would often go out to lie on her livesail and feel the slow cadence of her breath. Aboard Sorrow's Fist, Sophie taught me to feel the rhythm of the spellship's lifecycles. I came to know how to influence the vessel to be eager and spry, or torpid to conserve supplies. I confess that I feel my time with the dryad was too short, but it was all the time she had. War brooks no delay.

Remembering the early days of the war has made me mindful of what Bron told me. He and Umber somehow took up the gauntlet with no common orcs. The “orcs” they fought were, in point of fact, a prince of the scro homeworld and his honor guard! Fortunately, the constabulary smiled on the struggle, about which I still know precious little, and they were each awarded the chance to take an item from the scro ship as reparation. Umber took a diamond the size of my thumb (which I recon to be worth enough to purchase a small ship), and the catfolk took a smooth sphere whose surface is reminiscent of the phlogiston. Bron, on the other hand, has showed his quality at last. He brought to me the charts of the scro captain! These enchanted maps are penned in the language of angels, which I do not read, but with magical aid I have little doubt that I can make good use of them.