Voltron Paladin Armor Novels & Stories

Vale moved in front of Lyra without hesitation, Ronan flanking her left side, Cassian her right, Malachai behind. “I hate that this formation makes sense,” Cassian muttered. Vale’s voice vibred low. “Silence.” The storm pulled itself inward, folding, compressing— until a figure stepped out. A tall silhouette in armor carved from pale bone. Antlers curled from its helm like sharpened branches, each one inscribed with lines of ancient script. The armor was not dead material—it breathed, faint flashes of silver and red pulsing under its surface like veins. And the air around it…

The warrior continued the vulture’s vigil, unblinking eyes washed over the armies gathered below in battle array, his Eben held before him like a walking stick. His polished bronze armor caught the setting sun, high collared chainmail to protect his neck in combat, patterned in the likeness of coral beads, bronze breastplate patterned in feather carvings flowed down to his knees and parted at the thighs, held at the waist with a leather belt made from leopard skin, with feet protected only by a pair of cowhide sandals, arms bared except a gold band hung around an arm inlaid with gourd charms and cowries, and the quadrangular warrior bell, Egogo around the other.

“Here is the armor of Vuolas, the ring of attraction. Unfortunately, I cannot give you a paralyzing blade, it was taken by the leader of the Fury Clan Lasters, so I dare to offer a protective strike gauntlet. This weapon is made of a unique alloy, the secret is unfortunately lost, it perfectly protects the hand and can attack from a distance with a powerful pushing blow with a minimum of magical energy, which is why it is valued. The keeper bowed his head meekly. Brook-ta-man looked at the artifacts with satisfaction. - Well, the glove will do too, I'll change the strategy, and that's all. He took the armor and deftly put it under his clothes. The steel plates of Vuolas's armor were unusuall

With a restrained bellow, he projected his pure vigor, casting it into the shape of a body armor with a golden-red sheen. The crowd around him was left gaping in shock—Troy actually had such a powerful champion under his command?! "Haha! This is a secret technique of Volsung Sect—the Golden Dragon Carapace! With this, I won't fear even peak Ascendant ranks!" Kilian sneered as he watched Frank charged at him, clearly overestimating himself. Given Frank's condition, the recoil alone would pulverize his body and kill him instantly. Troy's eyes had lit up when he saw the majestic armor covering Kilian too.

He looked like he'd just been struck in the head as he froze on the spot in a daze. However, a short while later, he recollected his wits and immediately hopped onto a nearby motorcycle to find me. Leon saw what he was doing and quickly went up to stop him. "You're going to be at a great risk of dying if you just rush in like this!" Yet, Vernon's eyes were full of deadset determination. He tightly gripped the handlebars on the motorcycle and said in a deep, powerful voice, "I would willingly die for her." So, Vernon braved the wave of bullets coming his way and charged forward on the bike.

He lifted the breastplate to Aletharin's chest, aligned the front plate with the back plate, and placed the leather straps in their sockets. “Do the plates match?” he asked. “They do,” Aletharin answered. He tightened the straps. The breastplate was decorated in a herbal motive. His mentor placed the gorget that was decorated in the same herbal motive. Aletharin moved, did a somersault and landed on his feet. “Good,” his mentor was pleased, “the armor doesn't stop your moment.” “True,” Altharin turned. “You still need the vambrace, faulds and helm.”

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.

- I'm tired as a mule! - Hey, Felix! - Tristan called out to the man, - It seems this is for you! Tristan pointed to a wooden stand nestled in one of the corners of the room, on which the armor hung. The white-silver metal shimmered, reflecting the light coming from the small oval stones on the ceiling. The engraved patterns were woven into a dragon design on the breastplate. The edges were finished with gold alloy. At the side of the armor, on an elegant wooden stand, rested a two-handed sword made of the same white-silver metal. The long blade tapered near the hilt and gradually widened towards the end. A thin pattern flowed down the center of the blade. The handle was made of amethyst, sh

Agreed, he felt the boy’s presence in the room, though reluctant, was a show of an understanding, be it all too little, of what duty entails. Grunald’s lesson was very much unlike the ones before it. The first thing Kilvic noted was the absence of the girls who had taken a different route as they approached the class. The next, though not as obvious as the first, was the instructor’s garment. It was far from anything close to being considered a robe. The man wore a leather vest adorned in scales of a nightingale fish, a water demon from the vasimil sea of revindal, although, Kilvic was certain the instructor lacked such knowledge. The dull scales were known to be the sturdiest piece of armor

"What do you want." He held up the metal bundles. "Nero's orders. Both of you wear these tonight. No arguments." He dropped his eyes to the gown Isolde was holding. "As beautiful as that would be — and it would be genuinely beautiful — tonight is not the night." He held out the armor. "Warriors only." We looked at the armor. Then at each other. It was metal. Heavy. The kind meant for wolves twice our size. Chest plates. Arm guards. Something that was either a helmet or a very aggressive hat.