The ship was at least thirty meters tall and more than double that in length. A rough-looking hull of blackish brown, visibly reinforced by some extraordinary means, encased the exterior, showing none of the usual armaments that sprang open portions of regular vessels of the same type.
The vessel had no sail, or even mast of any kind. All that could be seen above its large body, was a stream of disjointed golden lights in an umbrella shape, reaching down in an arc to cover the whole deck – hiding and shielding it at the same time.
At the front end of the ship, a figureless bowsprit stood erect, pointing yonder, looking more like a stabbing lance than a mere pole awaiting decoration. At the back end, what looked like long, brown thorns jutted out, their ends tinged with a dim orange light that hissed faintly.
When Replicus had first seen this, he had identified a heavy element from that glow, something like fire, but much greater.
