Tattel had slipped away some moments ago, but, true to his nature, no one save himself had noticed.<br/>He traveled leisurely down one of the ships many corridors, on some begotten deck. "A lonely tunnel," he thought to himself, "wrought of iron, shaped by fire, just like everything else in this 'age of man'..."<br/>He kept walking toward the end of the hall, "My fellows...A motley crew to be sure...I wonder where they will fit in all this....What the world awaiting us has in store for them..."<br/>Tattel look at a series of whirring machines, tools of metal and heat that kept the massive Goddess moving. He had reached his destination. He smiled a smile that seemed more fitting to a serpent cornering a mouse, than a man exploring a ship.<br/>"Time to see what makes this place tick."