DAY ELEVEN

Day Fourteen, Plane of Weeping

After loading the last of the provisions aboard the desert skimmer, I set out into the Glass Ocean early this morning. I left from the standard entry point from Copperhead with no small amount of trepidation - alone. All familiar things were quickly lost to me, swallowed by the blushing horizon. My skimmer provides some comfort, though, as with its blend of gears and magic it glides over the sands easily and quickly. (Though, it sometimes has trouble handling large dunes.) I have food and water enough for a month, if not more, but it seems of little comfort. The atmosphere of this strange desert causes me much anxiety. While in the skimmer I do not have to fear that I will sink into the depths of the Ocean and be lost, I can only stop the skimmer when I come across a large sheet of glass to set it down on. (While the glass will eventually sink, the desert is slow to reclaim it. Currently, the skimmer is parked on one such sheet as I write. Larger sheets can be found every few miles.) I have taken many small glass samples and stowed them away in the magic holds of the Skimmer, but I wonder just how long magical assistance will hold out. The Skimmer seems to be fine, despite the malfunctioning compass which was expected, but my image magic is faulty. I seem to be unable to fix pictures to my journal as easily as I should, so I may be doing much more hand drawing in the future.