Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 5]

I nodded and stepped toward the servants, letting them help strap the armour in place.

It was fantastically heavy. The plate was solid and covered me from shoulder to toes in thick, silvery metal that glinted in the sunlight. Great pauldrons covered my shoulders and even obscured my vision somewhat if I looked to the left and right. The graves were segmented, and the breastplate extended downward with chainmail hanging from the bottom interwoven with golden badges marking the emblem of Vale. Another was stamped over my heart, while a buckle on each shoulder held up a royal blue cloak that fell and flowed down behind me.

A helmet was offered, full faced, but Ozpin stopped me from putting it on. "Keep it on your belt. Fully arming yourself is reserved for war. It's considered a sign of peace to show your face at times like this."

"Do you think Salem knows that?"

"No. But our people on the walls do."

I surrendered to Ozpin's knowledge and hooked the helmet onto an attachment designed for it. Apart from being heavy, the armour made me feel like a golem. I could move in it, but only because of my frankly ridiculous Strength stat. Most people would have toppled under the strain of it. Perhaps that was the point; that to be a Royal Guard you needed to have such Strength as a minimum. I stooped and picked up Crocea Mors from where I'd laid her, attaching her to my sword belt.

[...]

If anything, Faith was calmer than I was. That might have had something to do with the other mounts, who she naturally followed and took lead from. My never-quite-faithful mount had taken the increased weight of my armour with ease and honestly seemed pleased to be outside the walls again.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 5]