The Armourer Novels & Stories

The armory was towards the East wing of the pack house where the warriors kept their weaponry and vests used for war, made in bronze and metal that had exquisite detailing and the pack logo inscribed, and I was instructed to clean and polish each and everyone of them. Left alone in the slightly dark room I pick up a dagger twirling it in my hand before removing the scabbard the blade lustrous even in the dark, a thought crosses through me that I should take my life there and now and I revelled in it seeing my reflection on the blade trailing a finger through the edge. “Ouch!” I squealed, dropping the dagger. The small cut pulled me out of my trance, quickly I picked it wiping the blood stain

Lucas looked at Zayne faintly. "You and I are considered to have some fate," Lucas said. Subsequently, Lucas bought a piece of armor from the Points Mall and named it Green Armour. "This armor is known as Green Armour. After you've put it on, your defense will increase by a few times." Zayne was stunned. He had never imagined such a scene to play out. He initially thought that he would part from this world for good. Never had he thought that Lucas the Demon would bestow him such a terrifying treasure.

Cause I know of some people who would have got the need to use the toilet at the feeling of nervousness. "Adamu! " He called out as he kept horning. Suddenly a man in an army coloured uniform opened the gate. "You are late but not too late" The man I guess must be Adamu said. I was expecting the man to smile but I don't think he has ever smiled in his life before. He was really dark and tall, with a large scar on his cheeks. "Whatever" kene replied as he drove into the compound. I was marvelled at the sight of the building, It was really huge and beautiful. Even though the White colour used for the painting made it look odd. The way it was fenced will make anyone passing by wish to have a lo

I don’t know if the hammer was actually made of silver, but it was very shiny. A young man with skinny arms, wearing a stiff leather apron that looked like it was brand new, stood at the front of the shop with a clipboard in his hand. “Place your orders here!” he called out. “Waiting time is only two months. Strike now while the iron’s hot, hot, hot. Master Akrote produces the finest weapons and armor in the city.” No one approached him. The crowd seemed to be here to watch the blacksmith work. I pushed my way towards the young man and waved my hand in front of his face to get his attention.

' I smacked my hand free from his grip and continued going. Loren kept following me to the armour room where different types of weapons and the best quality of swords were kept. Treasure house of Crescent Pack. ' My pack is specialised in making strong and durable swords.' I walked around searching for the perfect, sharp rapier sword. Just when I was doing so I saw Loren pulling out one rapier sword. He stepped close to me , cornering me against the wall and while brushing his fingers on my lips he softly said, " Allow me fuck you right here."

The right rings on his long aristocratic fingers, the well brushed hair, the soft skin on his pale hand that had never seen the rough end of a well worn sword but certainly knew how to yield an expensive one. His robes weren’t plain ones either. They usually had patches of gold and silver, sewn with several symbols, some for protection, others as ornaments. They frustratingly always went over stupid breeches made of strong looking cloth, and Alarick always thought they were useless. His high cheekbones and soft looking jaw molded a beautiful face that was gentle and trusting. Like mages, druids were usually scrawny, but hunter types like Erriene had to climb up trees and actually trek the wo

“Guardians, please, come with me.” As they stand, Amir grabs my mate’s hand. I’m just about to step in, when she handles the situation, Guardian style. “I warned you not to touch me again, Amir,” she says and I watch her wolf push forward. Amir screams as he is turned to dust. My father’s eyes go wide as he sees his second in command disintegrated in front of him. The entire room goes silent around us. “Yes father. You would be wise to remember that they are called the Guardians of the Realm for a reason.” I snarl at him. “Ladies, please, come with me.”

Would I? I looked at Declan, really looked at him. Saw past the expensive suit and the carefully controlled expression to the man underneath. Damaged, yes. Controlling, absolutely. But also protective, honest in his own broken way, and trying so damn hard to be something he had never been before. "I do not know," I admitted. "And that terrifies me."

But the others were already moving, their swords ringing as they cleared leather. Fletcher parried furiously; his craftsman's hammer was useless against their practiced blades; steel clashed against steel. He was able to damage one of his attackers, creating a gash down the man's sword arm, but a pommel strike to the back of his head brought him falling to his knees. As they bound him, the rope sank into his wrists. Blood dripped down his brow and matted his red-gray beard. "Kael will be pleased," the leader growled as he pulled Fletcher onto his feet. "The master armorer knows every secret these walls hold. "

Arthur, the Eighth Brother. He looked like a man who had spent his life building bridges of steel while his brothers built bridges of starlight. He carried a cane topped with a simple silver wolf’s head, and behind him stood a legion of soldiers in "Null-Armor"—suits designed to absorb kinetic energy and ground it into the earth.