Moor Ship Novels & Stories

"Mom, he's amazing." "He's a child who survived," I said. "Just like you." Jaden thought about that. "Am I amazing?" I pulled him close. "Yes. You are." An hour later, we saw it. A cargo ship. Huge. Rusted. Listing to one side. It had run aground on a reef years ago and been abandoned. Now it sat tilted, half-submerged, like a dead whale. Miro surfaced beside the boat. "They're inside," he said. "In the belly. They don't come out much."

We hear the roar of Thypon in the distance. ‘We must all go, now! ‘Towards the ships!’ Damon shouts. We shift into our wolves, and the little orcs and sprites are placed onto our backs. We race along the shoreline until we reach the docks where the ships are anchored. I look at Magnus as we see they have been destroyed. We shift back and cautiously approach. I notice a lot of movement in the water beyond the destroyed ships. ‘There’s something in the water,’ I say, pointing at the ripples.

Moorewell Shipping was the exact opposite of Blue Star—Their cargo ships only traveled between Aldovia and Epoth, so losing orders from Kymin was not a big deal for them. "This is only temporary." Lewis was rather confident though. "It won't be long before the virus spreads all over Epoth and Aldovia. Moorewell will only be worse than we are by then." Larissa did not know where Lewis' blind confidence came from. "If the virus spreads in Epoth and Aldovia, aren't we goners as well?"

Doreon The port of the city where they had arrived, after days of walking, was full of ships departing and even offshore. Doreon looked at the surface of the open sea and all he could see were hundreds and hundreds of ships of different sizes. Some were gigantic, capable of carrying hundreds of people, others had compartments to transport animals. The sails were colorful. Some were green, like the banners of Haefest, others were gold, like the banners of Aeris, still others blue like those of Locrand and in the distance Doreon could also see some white and gray sails like Devian's sigil of arms.

"Good. Let's go on board." They climbed the ramp. The ship was big inside. It had a control room with buttons, a deck with rails, and rooms for sleep below. As they walked, more Moonclaw men died behind them. Quiet kills. Their bodies were thrown into the water. Darius's men were fast. Like shadows. The ship pulled away from the dock. Waves splashed. The engine roared. The dock got small. Lisa stood on deck. The wind was cold. She hugged herself, scared so much her teeth chattered. From far away, a dark shape appeared. The island.

He just pulled back, and another hand took its place. "We're overrun," Vance said, checking his magazine. "Two rounds left." "Use the flare gun," I said, handing him my launcher. "Against a mob?" "Against the spores," I said. "Fire keeps them back." Suddenly, the ship lurched. It wasn't the kelp pulling us down. It was a vibration. A hum that started deep in the keel and rattled the teeth in my skull. The light outside changed. The moonlight on the water vanished.

A high-pitched shout tore through the morose atmosphere, startling Mel, "Coast!" Mel stepped away from Harriett's embrace and watched as the Orion ship loomed nearer, almost twice the size of her father's largest ships. She stood, transfixed as she watched the decorated carvings along the hull of the ship, snaking around the ship's base to form a clan symbol she was unfamiliar with. The vessel finally docked at the harbour and Mel tightened her coat around her, warding off the cold wind that brought a renewed anxiety with the ship's arrival. A long bridge stretched out from the side and two large figures made their way down to them, garbed in luxurious fur clothing.

The New Mooring The chapter concluded with the sound of wood groaning against a heavy tide. I opened my eyes to the deck of a real ship. The timbers beneath my feet were thick, dark cedar, sticky with fresh tar and smelling of brine. Above us, the sails were three massive sheets of glowing, jagged light that cast a sharp, bronze pattern across the faces of the survivors who were sprawled across the hatchways, gasping for air but entirely whole. Mia was standing at the bow, her small hand pointing toward the shore.

That morning, Yin Mimi Bay – which had looked calm and deserted a few days earlier, had now become crowded and noisy. The commotion at Yin Mimi Bay was triggered by Mao Mingzao's decision to get Louchuan out of his cage. Louchuan was a Caihong naval ship that served as a floating fortress and was usually the main ship in a war fleet.

“Lady Ever—” “No names.” Becky lifted a hand without slowing. “Not mine. Not yours. Not tonight.” The man bowed his head. “As you wish.” “Is the ship ready?” “Aye.” He jerked his chin toward the vessel moored at the far end of the dock. It was a weather-beaten cargo ship, hull patched, sails rolled, the Eastwind insignia freshly painted over with a darker, unfamiliar crest. “False flag, false registry, false manifests. No one’ll track where she’s goin’.”