Crusader Armor Novels & Stories

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.

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

They found the first skeleton twenty minutes later, slumped against a fallen column, and Caierre nearly missed it in the dim crystal light before Grant's sharp intake of breath made him look twice. Armor. Old, corroded, but unmistakably fine even after centuries—inlaid metal, a design worked into the breastplate that matched nothing Caierre had seen on any soldier in living memory. Two more skeletons lay a short distance on, arranged like they'd fallen mid-retreat, weapons still gripped in bone fingers, facing the same direction like whatever had killed them had come from behind and they'd known it, at the end, and hadn't been fast enough. "Guards," the old man said quietly, crouching near t

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.

Brooklyn was outnumbered and the tide was turning against him. Alexander, a spectator with a keen eye, murmured, "Impressive armor, but it's a bit too heavy for its own good." The black armor was not just tough. It was rigged with clever little traps that could spring on an enemy without warning—deadly in a close-quarters fight. However, Shannon, overhearing his critique, snapped, "Hey, quit your griping." To those in the Zenith Order, the Darkhelm Armor was a legendary treasure, a sacred heirloom.

Exquisite… the color and every detail on every part were what I call fantastic. All dark, like the color of the night. Every buckles and clutches were perfect places to hide and settle multiple daggers. Metal plates on the shoulders, arms, and down the knees. The boots were light and easy to move for its spikes like it is intended for leaping and landing on high areas. “I’ll assume you’re done. Follow me.” Edith appeared on an earthen brown armor. It was recently I realized that the combat armor I’d been staring at a while ago was what I am wearing now. The same kind of side braid fastened my hair and the black cloak aside easily clasped on my shoulders as I hurriedly catch up Edith.

They all only took their standard armor, having had years to work out the kinks of fighting in them exactly like this. “Are you guys not going to put on more?” Steve asked as he walked up to them. He was in full armor, bullet proof vest, shoulder, knee, and elbow pads, and some thick leather gloves. He even had one of the very few visored helmets. It wasn’t something made by the rebellion, but found in the city. “We’ve spent years like this. Countless missions, from scouting to full on attacks.” Chriso told him with a lopsided grin. He, like the rest of his squad, only sported a bullet proof vest, pads for the knees and elbows, and thick gloves.

She needs a friend her age, so he agreed unwillingly. Kaylee on the other hand could also see that her father had not wanted to agree but whatever. She just shrugged it off. ... The next morning... "Good morning", Kavinsky greeted with a cheeky smile as he took in Kaylee's appearance. She wore a white tank top that reached just above her navel and a black baggy trouser. She held a black Jean jacket in her left arm and he assumed that she was going to use it on her clothes to cover herself later.