Crusader Armor Novels & Stories

The fate of his kind depended on it. Draco took a deep breath, the pain in his head still nagging at him as he stood up from the Jacuzzi. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to his closet to don his war clothes. The black leather armor, decorated with silver studs, hung on a rack beside the door. He slid the shirt on first, feeling the leather creak as it molded to his body. Then he reached for the pants, the material thick and heavy, and strapped on his boots.

There was also a shield, with a magnificent and ferocious griffin embossed on the face of the shield. The only other things in the trunk were the full chainmail armour, an elaborate waist belt, a leather pouch, a set of tubular bells and cloak with the coat of arms of the Zumerongs which was a magnificent and ferocious griffin, standing tall and proud, embroidered with threads of gold, silver and copper; the image was so life like and imposing that just a glance at the magnificent image commanded respect.

Rain was the closest to the armor, but she kept a safe distance for the time being. Creed's motions were substantially more unrestricted now that he was wearing combat armor around his body. His massive rucksack was also no longer visible on his back. He wasn't even holding his bow either. Creed had already reverted to his old freestyle combat patterns for some reason, as that was the single combat methodology he felt most comfortable with in melee combat. However, as a direct consequence of this, he was getting a lot of damage while fighting the Angel. His makeshift patterns were barely keeping him alive. Though it was somewhat working, it was far from adequate.

With swords on their hilt and spears raised high, they rode to the battle line. They did not need armor for battle but it was a habit passed down to them from the first Versipellis who were once human and were used to wearing armor for battle. Now, it was like a culture, a religion to wear armor and hold weapons in battle. They did it to honor their fallen comrades. Not that they needed it with their claws and regenerative abilities. One interesting thing they noticed was that the Vrykolakas had a weakness, and that was steel.

James asked as he looked at the wrapped package. “Open it and find out.” He smiled as James started ripping the paper off and unfolded the leather vest. “What does it say?” “That’s a phoenix rising from the ashes, same as my jacket. But below it, it says, ‘Blood of Wrath’. That means every biker that sees it will know you’re my son,” he said. James looked up at him, his eyes glistening. “Really?” “Whenever we go to events like today, you can wear it and people will know exactly who you are.” He could feel that tug of emotions in his chest and when he looked up, Jenna was smiling brightly, he could feel that in his soul too.

I have a blue cape that reaches my knees, and long armored white boots that cover above my knees. Val wears almost the same design as mine, but her armored color combines red, black and yellow. Her cape is red, and her armor was black and yellow. “This is our battle attire, Azrael. Stop gawking at Alice's cleavage. Tsk.” Val said while smirking, and Azrael’s face turned beet red that made us laugh. Azrael is wearing a black armor attire which has a hidden weapon he could use in case of emergency. He requested that on the bladesmith and crafter.

After the armor was crafted, it was sent to the fae to enchant it with high magick. They placed enchantments of increased stamina, endurance, healing, quickness, and strength upon it. They were each given to members of supernatural royalty; vampires, werewolves, warlocks, fae, angels, and so on, received the armor. Mine is attuned to my electrical energy. It is a deep dark black with veins of crimson-colored living blood flowing through it. It is light armor and fits me like a glove. The matching sword is called the Deathslayer, as its power is that which can even defy death, himself.

Beside him stood Lyra, in dark leather armor, the crest of the Sun-Marked on her sleeve pulsing with a brilliant white-gold radiance that lit the shadowed battlements, a beacon of hope. "The defense's shield won't hold up to a sustained salvo from three capital-class dreadnoughts! Beta Marcus ducked behind a stone merlon, his hand clenched on his shadow-forged broadsword, and roared above the deaf thunder of the artillery. "Their black-silver shells are eating through our runic anchors!" "Then we stop playing defense," Caelum rumbled, his deep voice carrying over the roaring storm with low, terrifying authority.

The one who spoke was a muscular and fierce-looking warrior with a long scar running down the left side of his face. He wore a dark suit of armor engraved with strange glowing symbols and mysterious patterns. At first, I didn’t understand why so many people stared at him with excitement, jealousy, and admiration. But from the crowd’s whispers and Linda’s explanations, I finally learned something shocking. The armor was enchanted. Apparently, this world possessed enchanted weapons and objects capable of carrying magical abilities and supernatural powers useful during battle. From the crowd’s murmurs and Linda’s patient explanations, I discovered that enchanted materials were divided into diff

Days flew quickly, Hagrid was tensed, soldiers moving round the communities, and war had been declared between Witches and vampires. King Cassian's palace was heavily guarded, the soldiers and armies coming out, in a uniformed manner. Wearing Scale armor, and metal caps on their head, protecting their bodies. The most elaborate and protective armor was reserved for the charioteers, both the driver and warrior, who were singled out as prized targets for enemy archers, especially those with long-range composite bows.