Crew Logs:  Finally Finality
    
    
    
    Alberecht's Journal
    
    Dearest,
    
                   
    We are become a crew! I have at times despaired of us ever working
    in concert until we meet some unpleasant end. But this day we have
    been flung upon the forge and emerged unscathed – nay, tempered!
    
    Upon arrival at Foulstone, our captain gave chance to a scoundrel
    which fled from us behind Foulstone 3. On rounding the rock, we were
    set upon by it and a companion in ambush.
    
    The scene, for your dead eyes, were two fearsome Onslaught class
    raiders: Much lesser in stature than our Frieze, yet comparably
    armed. Each had two batteries in their prow, and another dorsal. But
    their guns were likely the least to be feared; Those vast gleaming
    prows painted in gruesome reds and blacks and fashioned like great
    sets of teeth - hinting of a terrible strength which could rip our
    Frize wide to a horde of merciless demons; and yet more hideous
    demons seeking to assault us in boarding craft.
    
    Against the pair, it would have been folly to stand toe-to-toe and
    let our broadsides alone speak for us. We engaged in a long drawn
    battle of maneuver. Keeping clear of their prows and giving their
    guns and craft only fleeting target. Meanwhile our chief gunner and
    Draconis himself manned our batteries. The distance and maneuver
    gave our shots small chance of scoring as well, but in time they
    gained fearful purchase on first one foe then the other.
    
    At one crucial moment, it seemed to me that we might snatch defeat
    from the jaws of victory…
    
    We had greatly crippled one of the raiders, and were wearing away at
    the other, when Draconis flung us between them and directly into the
    path of the cripple. Those teeth grew suddenly vast, and my knuckles
    white, but our stern cleared their prow by what seemed inches,
    leaving those teeth gnashing.
    
    Draconis certainly does not lack courage.
    
    A few more sharp turns, with our guns raking the cripple, rendered
    it a flaming hulk.
    
    The remaining foe continued to resist, but our guns soon found its
    vitals. And by stroke of luck, her treasury was left intact.
    
    Throughout all, the crew of the Frieze acquitted themselves with
    distinction. Against two creditable enemies, only the merest damage
    reached her worthy hull; just enough scar to signal her victory.
    
    And now, she calls me back to duty … though I remains yours first,
    forever,
    
    Alberecht