The Tankborn Spine is unlike any other galleon in design philosophy. Every inch of its interior is calculated not only for efficiency but also for morale and comfort, designed to foster cohesion among a crew of master operators. With a maximum capacity of 25, the ship is intimate yet structured, giving each individual space while maintaining open communal areas that feel alive and vibrant. The interior’s aesthetics are warm and welcoming without sacrificing the subtle intimidation of a warship: teal and black dominate, punctuated by polished hardwoods, brass fixtures, and the organic curvature of bone and armadillo shell supporting arches.
The ship is divided into three vertical tiers:
Lower Deck: Chow hall, storage, kitchen, cabins
Main Deck: Weapons, helm, communal walkways
Upper Superstructure: Lookout, jolly boats, observation platforms
Each area is a blend of practicality and artistry, reflecting the personalities and expertise of the crew who inhabit it.
The chow hall is the largest interior space on the Spine, spanning nearly the full breadth and length of the lower deck. Its design prioritizes communal interaction and practicality. The centerpiece is a large circular table, carved directly from teal-stained hardwood with a natural sheen that captures the warm lamplight. The table’s design mimics the curvature of the ship itself, as if the crew is seated at the very heart of the vessel. Built-in seating allows all 25 crew members to dine together, fostering equality and cohesion. Around the table, the floor is covered in a waterproof, soft-to-the-step carpet that dampens noise and prevents fatigue during long gatherings. Its subtle teal and black pattern hints at movement, almost like gentle waves frozen in time.
The walls of the chow hall are fitted with floor-to-ceiling shelving, each cubby behind a well-crafted door to prevent items from moving in heavy seas. Shelves hold provisions, utensils, barrels of rum, and jars of spices, all arranged in an almost ritualistic precision. Between the shelves, arched windows made from lightly frosted crystal allow the lower deck to catch soft, diffused light from above, giving the space a gentle glow that is simultaneously warm and slightly mysterious.
Hanging from the ceiling are chains and hooks where pots, lanterns, or signaling bells can be suspended. The arches above the table curve upward and outward, giving the impression of a protective shell while still leaving the space open for sound and light. Subtle carvings in bone along the arches depict the crew’s journey, etched by Barnaby’s hand, merging practicality with storytelling.
The chow hall also functions as a meeting room, where disputes are aired, plans discussed, and strategies mapped across small portable boards. The table has hidden compartments to store maps, tools, and writing implements. Lanterns along the walls, each fitted with mirrors and refractive crystals, provide soft illumination that can be dimmed for a more intimate atmosphere or brightened for full gatherings.
Adjacent to the chow hall is the galley, a compact but highly functional space that allows a single cook or multiple hands to work without crowding. The oven and stove area is dominated by reinforced bone and metal surfaces, resistant to heat and wear, with heavy hooks overhead to hang utensils, pots, and spice racks. Work surfaces of teal hardwood are smooth and polished, giving the impression of elegance while maintaining functionality. Shelving above and below the counters stores plates, bowls, and ingredients, each compartment labeled with neat, carved symbols.
A small herb rack extends along one wall, with potted flora carefully arranged to dry in the ambient heat and light of the deck above. Steam vents in the ceiling guide smoke upwards to hidden chimneys that lead toward the main deck, keeping aromas circulating rather than stagnating. At night, lanterns cast a soft glow, reflecting off the polished surfaces and creating warmth that permeates the adjacent chow hall.
Barnaby’s touches are evident in small decorative flourishes: a carved border of leaves along the counter edges, brass inlays that catch light, and tiny reliefs depicting joyful moments of crew life, subtly reminding all who cook or eat here of the ship’s communal spirit.
The cabins line the lower deck in two rows flanking the chow hall corridor, each designed for 1–2 crew members, with minor personal touches reflecting the occupant’s personality. Every cabin is rectangular but follows the ship’s curved lines, so the walls are slightly convex, giving a cocoon-like feeling. Each room has a sleeping loft, a small desk, and built-in storage. Doors are made from sturdy hardwood, carved with symbols of rank, role, or personal significance, but uniform in size to enforce equality.
Cabin details by crew member:
Garrick Ironbone: His cabin is austere but comfortable. Rough-hewn furniture is interlaced with soft cushions for brief rest after strenuous labor. Hooks for armor and weapons line one wall, and a small desk holds blueprints of ship systems. The air smells faintly of pine and metal polish.
Kethan: His cabin reflects a balance between utility and artistry. Nets and ropes are neatly coiled and stored, while a small collection of maps, charts, and a sketchbook rest on the desk. A hammock folds into the corner for naps, and his walls are adorned with small trinkets from ports visited.
Paris Oak: Her room is vibrant, filled with ribbons, small musical instruments, and acoustic enhancements to help her practice and project sound. The bed is curtained with teal drapes, creating a semi-private performance space. Mirrors strategically placed reflect sound and light.
Barnaby Buttercup: His cabin is organized chaos. Rolls of fabric and threads hang neatly from ceiling racks, a portable workbench sits by the window, and sketches of potential designs cover the walls. He’s optimized for creating, repairing, and imagining all in one small space.
Atlas Teant: Spacious and light-filled, with sun-dyed fabrics hanging along the walls, an exercise rope, and a small perch for Umbrix. Minimalist but airy, allowing movement for stretching and magic practice.
Kenjiro Oni: Sparse and efficient, almost meditative. His bedding is folded precisely, weapon rack neatly arranged, a small bonsai in the window, reflecting discipline and observation. He leaves space clear for sword practice in the confined cabin area.
Garrick & Kethan shared utility cabins: For tools, armor, and spare parts, allowing access without crossing main living spaces.
Every cabin has a small porthole with a thick shutter, allowing natural light and ventilation. Lighting is subtle: wall sconces with diffused lanterns ensure no glare or harsh shadows, promoting calm and focus.
The main deck is the operational heart of the Spine. Its gazebo-style roof, crafted from overlapping armadillo shell plates, allows a gentle breeze while shielding from the sun and sea spray. Walkways are wide enough to allow crew movement during combat and daily operations, lined with railings built from bone arches and reinforced wood.
Cannons are mounted symmetrically: five forward, five aft, each with ample maneuvering space for loaders and gunners. Swivel cannons line the sides, accessible from the walkways. Floor panels lift to reveal hidden storage for shot, powder, and cleaning equipment.
The deck is also a social space. Chairs and benches fold along the railings, allowing crew members to watch the horizon, enjoy breaks, or practice drills. The space is designed for visibility and accessibility, where a crew of 25 can work simultaneously without crowding.
Lookout Tower / Clam Pod: Positioned at the top of the ship, accessible via spiral staircase. Its semi-spherical shell is reinforced, acoustically tuned, and spacious enough for Paris Oak to project her voice across the decks. The pod doubles as a lifeboat, storing supplies and emergency gear within its curved walls. It is visually distinct, like a gem perched atop the spine, gleaming teal in daylight.
Jolly Boats: Stored along the sides of the upper deck, each clam-shaped boat fits 2–3 occupants. Suspended on reinforced arms, easily lowered or secured, crafted to withstand waves and provide safe transport for boarding parties or evacuation.
Storage Compartments: Throughout the ship, cleverly integrated into walls and under floor panels. Designed for provisions, tools, ammunition, and personal effects. Shelving and drawers are secured with latches, preventing movement during rough seas.
Observation Nooks: Small alcoves tucked into arches, allowing crew to rest, read charts, or spy on incoming ships.
Communication Posts: Located near helm and upper deck, connected via bells, pipes, and acoustic channels to enable alerts across the ship without shouting.
Walking the Spine is like moving through a living, breathing home that doubles as a war machine. The smell of polished wood, salted air, and occasional cooking wafts through corridors. Light filters in through crystal portholes, reflecting off polished surfaces and casting playful shadows across arches. Spaces are intentionally compact yet open, giving privacy where needed but fostering constant awareness and connection.
The crew’s personality is embedded in every corner: Paris’s musical flair in the lookout and cabins, Barnaby’s warmth and creativity in shared spaces, Garrick and Kethan’s practical, grounded presence in storage and maintenance areas. Even small touches — a carved handrail, a hidden compartment, or a carefully painted beam — tell stories of their shared life aboard the Spine.