Vassal Weapons Novels & Stories

Heads turned and backed down just as fast. The Viper had arrived. I didn’t wait for pleasantries. “Show me the goods,” I said. A Bratva soldier cracked open a crate. Rows of assault rifles gleamed inside, serials shaved off clean, fresh from the ports. I bent closer, breathing in the faint scent of oil and salt, eyes narrowing. Everything looked perfect. Too perfect. Marcus shifted beside me, hands behind his back, posture a soldier’s calm. “Checks out,” he said.

The polished marble floor was covered in long, ghostly shadows from the last of the sun's rays as they passed through the stained-glass windows. Vlad's heavy overcoat, which was casually draped over his arm, moved slightly as he turned to give a junior capo his final instruction. Ever perceptive, Violet's eyes briefly glimpsed something hidden beneath its folds. With a start, she recognised it as a weapon, unlike any she had ever seen. Not the familiar glint of a knife, not his typical sidearm. There was more to this. Longer, sleeker, with a faint sheen that hinted at a repressed mechanism, made for quiet, accurate work.

And as he pulled off the cloth around her head, i stood while he grabbed the stack of drugs from the table. "Perhaps you would tell me at the cost of her life here-" He said pointedly to Wu as Tessa gripped my arms back while he let out a deep chuckle. "Or is the FBI?" He asked, picking up his cup from the table as he stood from the chair and opened the brief case on the table to reveal a collection of weapons. A collection of sharp metal torture devices. And i immediately froze, looking to Wu as she shivered on the ground, her hair a mess and some bruises across her face before she fell to the ground.

he replied, bow in hand. I moved on. On my right, the trench for spear training was filled with men in light armor. They practiced closing with their spears braced against the wooden stakes, each taking turns swinging around to face a new opponent. Their shields were small, square slabs of metal that matched the dark black of my army’s colors. I noticed several fighters wearing crimson sashes around their waists, my personal guard, always at the ready. “Commander Vash,” I said, voice loud enough to carry. Vash looked up, breathless from exertion but fierce. He had once faced Orion’s champions in a tournament and lived to tell the tale. His reputation as a spear master was well earned.

one deity said. He saw Valkash flashing a devious smile. He drew near to him and whispered in his ears, " I told you she's mine," he said. Tyr felt his temper rage up with what he heard. That was a forbidden word. No one should be saying that to me! No one can touch it here! No one can take her away from me! No one! He thinks. So, he raised his hand, and his weapon appeared in his grip. It was a crescent glaive, huge and spewing icy blue or sometimes scarlet fire.

Mell called out after he sipped his beer bottle that he always brought during bath. Lars lazily opened his eyes. "Uhh... nothing. Do I have to name it or something?" Vayu got in to the spring and sat next to Lars, his long hair tied on a towel bun. "A name helps you to associate with it better. A Scion Weapon is part of your powers and soul. It's not just a tool, it's a manifestation and part of who you truly are." "So deep down... I'm a sword?" "Not like that, you loghead." Vayu flicked his fingers and splashed Lars with them.

Fimrouck scratches his beard. "For the granddaughter of my old friend, I want to do something special. Have you ever heard of a vessel weapon?" He asks. "I've heard of them but I thought they were a legend," I reply. The dwarf sets down his glass with a half smile. "Aye, they may be a legend to some, but I assure you, boy, they are quite real. A vessel weapon is the hardest to forge. Only five people in the entirety of Midgar can forge them," he explains.

The water here was waist-deep, churning wildly as the external basin poured through the fractured gate. Standing on the iron catwalks above the rising water were twenty elite western guards—not ordinary marines, but the King’s Vanguard, clad in heavy obsidian-plated armor that bore ancient Abyssal runes. They didn't wield steam-blades; they held heavy spears forged from dark volcanic glass, their tips crackling with unstable violet fire. "The stray queen comes to drown in our blood!" a voice boomed from the center catwalk. "I’ve had enough of your speeches," Dmitry growled low, his voice a primal vibration that rattled the iron rivets in the walls.

He put his fingerprint on it, and the wall slid sideways, opening. From behind me, I heard a whistle in appreciation. “Wow, wow, wow, Erik, this is a complete arsenal. I'm surprised. I knew you were good at dealing with arms, but this goes beyond what my sources informed me about you. Where do you get all these beauties?” Vinci approached where I had my collection and with his hands began to touch some. The wall was covered with weapons, submachine guns, rifles, pistols, automatic, semi-automatic, crossbows, bazookas, grenades, knives, and even bombs.

And made a list of other items to order, as well—new and updated weapons we’d need for the coming battle. Many of the weapons in the palace armory were obsolete, relics from a time when my ancestors were fighting insurgents of our own kind in the werewolf wars of old. These weapons – swords, flails, steel traps – were of no use against vampires. But we did also have an ample supply of newer weaponry fashioned for the express purpose of fighting the undead. We finished our count in the armory and returned to my study to review the results. “I’ll send the orders to the palace forge tonight.” Kayden was typing fast at my desktop computer while I paced nearby, reviewing the notes he’d made on th