<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Personal Log of Rudolph Hurricane, Capt.<br/>On this day, August the sixteenth, in the year of our Lord one-thousand eight-hundred and twenty-one.</span></span><br/><br/>The Steam has reached the coast of the continent Ozira, without incident.  From here on out, weâ€™re relying entirely on our stealth.  Admittedly, I have faith in our ship and crew, but even I havenâ€™t been briefed on the specifics.  Even if the nagae have their means of combating aerial threat without a real, working airfleet as of yet, that would explain neither the outfittings of the ship nor the measures weâ€™re taking; the crew has had to become slowly acclimated to this height weâ€™re at, and even I have become a bit lightheaded as of late.  Shouldnâ€™t w be able to take two or three scalebelly airships?  They have not nearly our capacity nor experience yet, I should know.  Hardfall sent one fellow, by the name of only Blakeâ€¦ he hasnâ€™t spoken a word since heâ€™s come aboard, and Iâ€™ve been given orders to treat and trust him as though he were the madame president herself.<br/>I donâ€™t know what this guyâ€™s up toâ€¦ and as much as I am expected to act as becoming an officer, I canâ€™t help but wonder whatâ€™s in that damn giant metal suitcase he lugs around.  With one hand, too, the skinny bugger!  I offered to take it from him earlier and it nearly flipped me when he let go of the handle.  How embarrassingâ€¦<br/>At any rate, this is a cloudy landâ€¦ the climate here is pleasantly warm, at least Iâ€™m told, on the ground, but itâ€™s becoming difficult to navigate when we have to stay above the damned cloud cover all the time.  Iâ€™m sending out two scout ships this afternoon to get a look below â€“ theyâ€™ll have to be our second set of eyes for the remainder of this tripâ€¦<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Subject:  Karen  (DarkEvilMe)<br/>Authority Level:  Ensign (Independently Contracted)<br/>Current Assignment:  Scouting, steamscouter pilot.</span><br/><br/>1550 Hours:  A young woman with midshipman insignia timidly approaches you, seeming afraid to disturb you, but finally speaks up.  â€œErrâ€¦ Ensignâ€¦ Karen?â€