Mordred Armor Novels & Stories

He gestured to a pair of mannequins at the center of the room, each adorned with intricate suits of armor. Lyra’s armor was a masterpiece, a combination of sleek silver and deep blue. The breastplate was etched with subtle wolf motifs, a nod to her Lycan heritage, and accented with shimmering gemstones that glowed faintly with protective enchantments. The design allowed for flexibility, ensuring that she could move with the grace and speed her wolf demanded.

Eya inspects her handy work making me smile at how proud she is. “It’s beautiful, you two did amazing work together,” I comment, grabbing the black leather pauldrons which are embossed to match the rest of her armor. The pauldrons are layered, almost like the scales of a dragon, working down covering Raven’s upper arms. I smile thinking of how Raven will look like a beautiful strong warrior queen in the stunning armor our vaari and her stepdaughter made for her.

“Is this hurt? He asked. I think for a while, hmm it does hurt though. I nodded, “however, I have to do the blood test twice a day. How can I think about the pain?” Arthur still staring at my hand, it's fat as it is full of IV fluid. “How long it takes to get my hands back to the actual size? Look, it's very full” I furrowed my brows, expressing my displeasure at these stocky fingers. Arthur gently stroked my hand, and I was stunned. A touch he didn't normally do. I'm kind of feeling so awkward, but he still did it anyway. Is he momentarily unconscious? Oh this bastard, he made me almost lost my heartbeats.

Morrigan’s sharp, shrill voice cut through the ambient roar of the arena. She stood in the center of the southern preparation ring, clad in gleaming silver-and-violet light armor forged from high-grade moon-steel. Her dark hair was braided tightly into an intricate war-crown, and her posture was rigid with supreme, arrogant confidence. She turned to face me, her dark eyes flashing with cruel satisfaction as she caught sight of the dark red stain spreading down my tunic collar. "Hand me the primary rapier," Morrigan commanded, extending her gloved hand without looking at me. "And if you drop so much as a drop of sweat on the leather grip, I will have Master Grendel break your fingers."

Warren says bitterly and I feel my anger rise. “HE’S the monster??” Morgana asks. “Can you listen to yourself right now?? Take a look around you Warren! This is a disaster! You’re working with fucking vampires! Capturing humans?? YOU’RE THE REAL MONSTER HERE!” Morgana’s eyes and hair turn red and her hair glows in a way it has never glowed before. I can feel anger emanating off her and it feels like she’ll soon explode like a volcano. “I’m going to kill you.” Warren says pointing at me and I may not have the serum he made for me in my system presently, but I’m ready for him. I’m ready to put an end to this once and for all. I’m ready to kill him.

I pick up a padded cream shirt, a pair of brown trousers, a chainmail shirt and a brown leather armoured vest and belt. 'These must be for you,' I say to Magnus. He takes them from my hands and nods in approval. Next, I pick up a black linen tunic with silver embroidery along the collar, a pair of black trousers, and a long gambeson coat lined with matching silver embroidery. As I hand them to Alec, I spot a leather baldric falling from the clothes pile. I pick it up and pass it to Alec. 'These are very fine clothing,' Alec says. 'How do I look?' Magnus asks. I turn around to see he has already changed into his new clothes. 'I'm getting some Robin Hood vibes from you,' I giggle.

She can sense that everything would backfire on her if she didn't do what's right, what her mother Aurora wants, and what her real intention is while she's at the mansion. Erina changed her outfit for their horseback riding, given by her personal maid. She wore white-fitting leggings, black boots below the knee, and a black coat with an inner white top. Arden matched her equestrian outfit, which made him look more honorable, like a king, with his dark features. Erina cleared her throat as she looked at his proud stance, looking like a soldier who doesn't need his own battalion to defeat a large group of enemies because he is his own weapon.

He sat on my bed, in full regalia, gone was the carefreeness he usually carried about him, replaced by an air of brutal efficiency one would expect from noble stock. His leather armor had been replaced with the plate mail he only wore during the Wild Hunt, a glossy Luna Moth green glass stronger than any weapon mortals could forge against him, including the Fae weakness of cold iron. If one stared at the plates long enough, they could just make out the spectral faces of those he'd slain in battle, souls forever bound in servitude to him until crossed the threshold between here and the hereafter. The Crown of The Dead, made out of the bones of his ancestors, sat heavily upon his spider-silk h

Her right breast is gone; she was chained and she is crying in pain. “Give me that!” She screamed but the scary beast appeared again from above. This time he has big, black wings that are shaped like bat wings and he is holding a metal stick that is bigger than the normal human arm. “No please… no!” Begged by the naked woman who is trying to grab my blanket.

I did a few jabs, and the sound of the gloves crinkling made me feel…powerful. I looked into the mirror. The armor made me look tough – tougher than I’d ever felt. It was mainly black, but a red stripe followed along the outside of the arms and legs, adding a pop of color to it that distinguished it from other all-black armor. I still didn’t understand why he had given me this. I was his fake Luna, not a member of his army. These leathers were prestigious, something that meant a wolf was a close member of his pack. They were earned, not given.