Traveler Ships Novels & Stories

He was so shocked that he rubbed his eyes to make sure what he saw was not his imagination. Although the darkness had prevailed, he could clearly see that not a far distance from the beach, many ships were cruising toward them. The ships were all painted black. Under the dim light from the moon, the ships were as massive as a sea monster, and they were full of people standing on board. They all had muscular bodies, and they held long sabers in their hand, looking very fierce and undefeatable. The leading ship had a giant flag. It was raised more than a few feet high above with three words written on it.

I looked at all the moored steamships we were passing by. The Steward probably couldn't hear me because I didn't get any answer from him. As we approached the end of the wooden pier, he stopped and looked at me with disdain. "Have you ever heard of a luxury schooner? They are popular for their excellent speed and maneuverability. His Grace uses this for his coastal pleasure trips instead of traveling with the peasants," he said, gesturing at a ship with huge masts and sails. I ignored his belittling attitude and looked at the ship in awe, reading the words 'Transatlantic Voyager' carved on its stern. With a deep navy blue hull, creamy white sails, and rich polished wooden deck, it was a beau

Alex and Sawyer drag Logan, now groaning softly, through the trees and onto a beach that opens up to a lagoon, where three massive ships bob in the calm water. They have to be… very old or exquisitely crafted replicas of the kind of ships Aviva mentioned used to sail the seas during the golden age of the Firestone witches. Several stories tall and made completely out of wood, they gleam like gold in the sunlight, their massive sails pulled in and anchors dragging on the seafloor. Pirate ships. All three of them. I might actually be dead. That would make more sense than what I’m seeing.

Although Peltratria laughed as he said that, he picked up the pace. As they got closer to the door, Chasm recognized this type of ship as a transport instead of any sort of fighting machine. Before he had a chance to get a good look at the carrier, a set of steps whooshed down to the ground. Rhylent walked up and into the vessel behind Norwell and Peltratria.

A blast of cold wind hit me right to the face, and then, we burst out into what looked like a coast. Dirty wooden floorboards, lanterns swaying overhead despite the sun still being out, numerous and endless stacks of crates in every corner. I mean every corner. The sound of hissing from different steam engines combined together, drowning out the chatter from the men around—some loitering, others stacking things and leading people into boats. I’d never seen so many ships packed into one spot—cargo transport, weathered fishing boats, even some shiny passenger ships with polished rails that reflected like a mirror. But Vladislav didn’t pause. He kept moving, straight toward one ship in particul

"Did you see that? They shot at our plane." Another young soldier, his body trembling, said, "This is crazy! The competition hasn't even started yet, why are we being attacked in the middle of the journey?" Upon hearing the conversation, Niall turned to Elliot, who was silent, deep in thought. “It seems we’re not the only ones experiencing this. Everyone else is too.” Kharel adjusted the position of his backpack and said, “Enough! Let’s go. We still have a long way to go.” Apparently, there were twenty-six small ships, corresponding to the number of kingdoms participating in the competition. The ship with the words Kingdom of Ans De Lou was located in the middle.

"They're planning something. They wouldn't just leave us alone." "Maybe Evelyn is keeping them away," I said. "Or maybe they're waiting for something worse." Miro surfaced that afternoon with news. "Ships," he said. "Not Council ships. Different." "Whose?" He shook his head. "No flags. No markings. But they're big. Bigger than anything the Council has." "How many?" "Five. Heading this way. Fast." I climbed to the summit and looked through Leo's salvaged telescope. Miro was right.

On the day the market reopened, the merchant ships brought not goods, but a sentence. "Shallow Bay cannot be violated."

The spot was extra wide and we had a lot of larger ships around us, but no one seemed to pay us any mind as Icaan touched down and slowly turned off the engines. I stayed in the co-pilot's seat for a moment, watching the Frentin outside the ship. Similar to Antiga, there were a lot more men than there were women and the vast majority of females were on the ends of chains or flanked by several male Frentin guarding them. There weren't many of them however, the ships around seemed to be larger cargo vessels, lots of them being unloaded and crates being stacked all over. So far so good, I thought as I watched. If there were a lot of crates around and people bustling back and forth with large he

"How many ships?" "Six iron-clads, sir," the scout replied, looking up with wide, anxious eyes. "But they aren't firing their batteries. They are moving slow, towing a massive, floating iron platform behind them. High Alpha Torin says it looks like a deep-sea siege crane." Natalia turned her gaze toward the open horizon. Through the thick, swirling sea-mist of the Midnight Sea, the familiar, low-profile silhouettes of the western warships began to break the gray winter light. They didn't sound their mechanical horns this time; they moved in a synchronized, eerie silence, their smoke-stacks belching thick black soot that cast a dark shadow across the frozen water.