Orc Heritage Armor Quest Novels & Stories

“They sent me a piece of my sister’s cloak.” The room went cold. “Blood on it,” he added quietly. “So I obeyed.” I studied him carefully. “Did you ever meet the one giving orders?” “No.” “Not even a description?” Varik hesitated again. Then nodded slowly. “Once.” Jaron and I exchanged a glance. “When?” Jaron asked. “Three weeks ago.” “And?” Varik’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They wear a silver wolf pendant.” My breath caught. Because I had seen that symbol before.

It looks like bronze but the aura and a strange power emanating from it was telling them that the material that made it was not as simple as it looks. Since Aurelia's body had undergone reconstruction and was much much stronger than the native of her world and she even has some cultivation and spirit-qi within her body. This enabled her body to perceive some of the strange power that came from the bronze-looking armors and spears that the guards were using. “I bet that was not bronze. What was it made of? Mr.Mars?” Asked Aurelia “Oh? It’s Orichalcum.” Mars smiles at Aurelia before leading them past the giant golden gate.

Raven's POV "Ready?" Osric asks, once he has tightened the last buckle on my new, black dragon scaled, armor that Draig brought me as a gift. "I think so, this armor is incredibly light and flexible," I mention while twisting and turning to test how comfortable I am in it.

Nova ran and let the harpoon sink instinctively. The middle of the three figures occurred. She wore some kind of armor from shed, black chitin and held a long spiral trident from pure Consortium titan. “You stayed dry,” said the figure. Your voice was that we were talking about had heard – gurgelling, vibrating and characterized by a strange accent, as their voices would not have been made for speaking in the air. Kael lowered his rifle, but turned half in front of me. “We are the heirs by Ouroboros. We come from the light of the sun. Who are you?”

(SHEILA’S POV) As Orion and I made our way back to the village, the scent of pine still lingering on our skin from our afternoon gathering of herbs and medicinal plants, we noticed a group of soldiers passing under the wooden beam of the haven's doorless gateway. Their presence immediately drew my attention, the emblem on their shields—a majestic werewolf head crowned by a crescent moon, entwined with vines and leaves—marked them unmistakably as soldiers of the Harvestia Monarchy.

Chen uttered calmly. The woman was stunned. Now, it was her time to speak while Chen would grunt in response. Her reasoning was impeccable. These items cannot be easily worn by others in the Balak Kingdom, not after the recent affairs, and are only valuable to nobles who love collecting war items. She, of course, wouldn't mention the greatest use of these items but that doesn't mean Chen wouldn't. "These armors can be sold to spirit masters who will wear it and approach the enemy's camp to strike surprisingly. This will earn them merit points. Stronger Spirit masters will even buy more than one in case they are in a group. 12,000 gold coins. Not a copper less."

The heavy oak doors creaked open. I walked into the council hall, my leather riding boots clicking against the stone floor. I was not wearing the silk gowns or velvet dresses the servants had placed in my suite. I wore my tight dark leather combat armor, my mother's silver Solis medallion hanging visibly against my collar, my bear-fur cloak trailing over my shoulders. Behind me walked Alpha Hector of the Sun-Spire Pack and High Alpha Rebecca of the Black-Ridge Wolves, their weapons drawn and resting at their hips, serving as my personal sovereign guard.

I reply. I take the heavy silver chalice, taking a small, slow sip of the cool, iron-laced liquid. Even with my face obscured by the scarred mask, I can feel the weight of every eye in the lower ring burning into my back. Their whispers ripple across the hall like a low rustle of dry leaves. Look at that scale-weave. That is the Ocean-Forge armor... the legendary moon-iron set forged by the Healers' Guild master! That single chest-piece took five full lunar cycles to temper in royal blood. The northern matriarchs offered five hundred head of game and three silver mines for it, but the master refused to yield it to the market.

“Isabella came here with an ulterior motive Kaelan but you didn't listen to me. Now the entire pack is thrown into chaos.” Anger flashed in my eyes. "You’re wasting time accusing me when that thing is out there slaughtering our people?” I turned to Owen, who had returned with a small group of warriors. "Search the entire packhouse," I commanded. "Check every room, every hidden passage. The armour might Still be here." Everly was already moving before I finished speaking. I watched her go, and wondered where she was rushing to. An hour passed, but there was no sign of the armor. My patience was running thin. And then… A warrior came running towards me, panting. "Alpha! We found something!"

Horses readied. Aria stood in her quarters, strapping on leather armor reinforced with wards Sera had stitched herself. The silver pendant hung at her throat, the mark on her neck thrumming beneath her skin. Sera entered quietly. “You’re certain of this?” Aria met her gaze in the mirror. “We need allies.” Sera hesitated. Then, softer, “And Kael?” Aria’s throat tightened. For a long moment, she said nothing, staring into the darkness beyond their camp. Finally, her voice came, low and honest: