The Armourer Novels & Stories

Xolvion said, giving him a serious look. "Jezz, you drive a hard bargain, mister... You remind me of my daughter in that way." He said scratching his head. "You could say I learnt from the best," Xolvion said, smiling at him before he took his money and left. "Now that I have some money, I should get some new gear. After all, these clothes won't last much longer." He said looking down at them. Xolvion wandered through the city until he came to a small yet popular weapons and armour shop. It had been recommended at the adventurers guild due to its price and quality.

At the back of my head, I understand that he is just a messenger- albeit a very foolish one- but I am unable to bring myself to care. Dominicus’ other hand twitches and starts to slowly come up and I can see the despair in Nigel’s eyes. Suddenly, heavy footsteps approach, and strong arms grab the shaking man, roughly pulling him back and away. In his place stands a tall, muscular warrior. Unlike the others, his black soft armor bears a gold emblem on the shoulder, and a sheathed longsword is strapped to his hip.

The Archon Ergonus was afraid. Staring at the dirt below him, he contemplated his decisions, his role. The pride and glory that his position brought him. What did it mean? It all seemed to be pointless. “Ergonus.” Another of his warriors approached him. Guldar’s armor was showing weakness. The living leaves and vines that comprised of his helmet were no showing sings of graying. The miniature gardens of grass that once grew on the trenches of his armor was now torn, what remained had withered and died.

The ruins came alive with the scent of oil and steel. Our recruits arrived in threes and fives, mostly young men and women with old eyes. Labourers. Butchers. Former scouts. One was a baker who had once served in the queen’s guard. Another was a mother with vengeance in her blood and a blade she named after her murdered son. They were broken people. But broken things, I’d learned, made the sharpest weapons. Brim oversaw the forging—armor from stolen scraps, swords from melted wagon hinges and farm tools. Lorian worked with the others to sharpen weapons and spirits alike.

Pure theater. Even a halfwit could see the setup—this was calculated. Maybe political. Maybe a trap. Get close, get killed. The plot armor routine? Dress Willa up like a saint, shove me back into the maid role—same old script. And yeah, I was paranoid. But with plot armor, paranoia was just common sense. I didn't play along. No warning—just snapped a vine at Willa and spun her like a top. I didn't go full force. Just enough to mess her up.

The newcomers were distinctly different from each other. One of them was concealed fully in a golden armour that shone as brightly as the sun. The armour was as thick as several walls of steel, standing at several meters in height! The armoured man was Frederick, and in his hands was a huge sword that towered above every living person here!

the healer said. He wore a suit of armor made of silver and steel, with intricate engravings that depicted the history of his pack. The armor was polished to a shine and was adorned with symbols of his rank and authority. The chest plate of the armor was emblazoned with the symbol of the wolf, representing his strength and leadership as the Alpha of the pack. The gauntlets and greaves were adorned with intricate designs, and the helmet that he wore was adorned with a fierce-looking wolf's head.

shouted Khalid, who was getting angry because he felt trapped by everyone's game in front of him. "It's not just us warriors," said Wang Ge, the warrior who was nicknamed the Asura Monk because of his strength he was ranked second after Swordsman Zou Fan. After Wang Ge said so, hundreds of swordsmen started to come out of their hiding places. chyou Chen started to grin, as the sensation of his heartbeat starting to race was getting stronger. "Is this going to be the end for me," thought Chyou Chen who started to feel a tremor in his legs.

Aurelia looked over at her big companion, "Well what is the quality here like?" A nose pressed against the supple leather on the stand. Zinjo examined the seams and the kirtle. "This forger knows their craft. I'd wear this armor into battle confident of its protective capabilities." "High praise from a foreigner," A gruff female voice said from behind him. The pair turned and saw a short woman with powerful arms, and half her face burned. "Princess Aurelia? What brings you to my humble shop. Wouldn't the boutique down the road suit you better."

He silently made the first set of golden armor little by little. The armor was made of gold and shining with golden light. Under the serious polishing of Samuel bit by bit, a suit of armor was slowly taking shape. Looking at the results, Samuel was very happy. However, Samuel did not intend to end it so hastily. On the contrary, it was not a simple first meeting gift for the scarred man, the absolute first commander of the Heavy Armor Corps. As soon as it was born, it should have caused a sensation among the crowd and made people envious.