Armour Use Requirements

 

Gold is for the mistress- silver for the maid!
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.
"Good!" said the baron, sitting in his hall,3
"But Iron- cold Iron- is master of them all!"

Kipling

"After asking some blacksmiths and hearing of all the wonders of their products, you realise that, if you are to learn about weapons and armours, you had best ask those who live with them every day, rather than those who need to make a sale.

As the sun first clears the roofs you arrive at the guardhouse, where a large, burly fellow meets you. He has no hair on his pate and not a whisker in his face, his head is an expanse of leathery browned skin that looks as if it needs no helmet for to bounce off a sword.

"So what would be your pleasure, young sir?"

Showing the confidence of a man of war- for that you know you shall be soon- you tell him that you would like to hear his opinion of the blacksmiths of the town, so you may do a good deal.

The old man's eyes glint merrily and his lips tremble for a few seconds with a repressed smile. As you begin to bristle at his lack of respect he beckons you follow him and leads you into the guardroom.

Inside you see several other men, some with the looks of weathered campaigners, others looking inexperienced and not at all a big deal. Your guide exchanges a few nods with other old men and takes you deeper inside the building. You suppress a shiver when you pass doors with heavy locks and bars; that is the fate of the lesser thieves. The axe outside the main city square tells the sad story of the worse criminals.

Suddenly the man stops outside a large, reinforced door, heavy with age and steel. He takes a large copper key from his key ring and opens it, grabbing a torch from the sconce just outside the door.

"Come on in, young master. Here you will find the work of every smith in the town, aye, and of every part of the continent. If you have any doubts just ask."

The torch flickers happily, shedding its light on tons of the tools of war.

Right at the entrance are several sets of well-used armour, showing the shine of patient care. "What type are those?" you ask.

"That's two questions in one, young man. You see, you price armours for their type, and you price them for their material and craftsmanship. Can't confuse them, no siree!"

"What do you call the type?" you ask.

The old man walks to the first rack of metal suits and taps on a solid metal chestplate.

"Type is whether t'is a suit of plate metal, of chain, of ring mail, of studded leather and leather, also bone. Hmmm yea, that 'bout covers the lot, it does. The type of armour is what you notice first and sure enough, it makes a barrel of difference in how you wear and fight with it. Plate is the best protection of them all cause it is made of solid metal sheets which are a world of trouble to pierce. It be heavy and ponderous and it takes some getting used to it, ye just take my word for it. Chain comes next, as protection goes. Its made of tiny rings of metal interlocked together in a tight pattern. It is very resistant and flexible and lighter than plate. Ring mail is made of rougher rings, larger but not linked as closely. It offers a little less protection, but it is also lighter. Studded leather is made with good, hardened leather spiked with metal pieces all over.

Simple leather is made of supple leather, it is more flexible than the studded pieces but you really don't take it to a field of honour if ye wants to leave it on yer own feet.

Bone is something else. It is armour crafted to look like it is made of pieces of bone. Stupid idea, really, because for one bone is unsuitable to make any kind of armour and with all the decorations its not that good an armour, but everyone's got a right to bad taste, right?"

"What about material and craftsmanship?" you demand.

"Ah, young lad, there ye have the crux of the matter, that ye do. It don't matter just what it is, but how's it done. I'd rather go to war with ring made by a good professional than plate made by some snot-nosed kid still learning to distinguish t'ween pliers and hammer. Tell you more, quality is so important that there's regulation for it. Strict rules, they are, and I'd not be in the blacksmith's skin who tries to cheat them. Its considered aggravated murder, cause if you send someone to war with bad material posing as good that's about what you're doing, you're killing him. Come along, I'll show ye."

The blacksmith points disdainfully at a bundle of armour pieces. Even to your inexperienced eyes they look battered and ill-kept.

"That be patched armour, that is. S'what you get when you get an incompetent smith to repair broken pieces of armour that're really too bashed in to take the fix. No self-respecting warrior will be seen dead in that, I tells ya. Unreliable as hell, it'll break if hit proper. Orcs carry a lot of that, the stupid sods."

You notice to the side a rack full of armour. It is well used but also, on closer examination, of a rough finish.

"What ye gets there be apprentice armour, that be. See the sign? It's the arsenal seal, confirming that its not up to standards. It is a lot better than patched, but not what we use in the guard. We use this lot here for training."

On the corner are three full racks of shiny armour, well oiled and cared for. You can see some signs of use, but no indication of misuse.

"This is good stuff, t'is Arsenal armour. T'is called that cause it's got the Arsenal seal, t'is here inside where it does not get in the way and also to make sure people don't get smart and try to sell cat for hare saying the seal was lost in battle. If this thing here were to get torn off ye'd have to scrap the whole armour anyway. Touch it- yeah, you feel the tingle? Magical, that is. You can't forge the seal.

What you have here is standard guard armour. It be expensive and good an' it be worth every penny cause when the party gets hot this is what you want to be wearing.

Next to the Arsenal armours is a small rack holding two full suits, one of plate and one of chain. Both have some skilful decoration and on closer examination are perfectly finished to the last detail.

"Ha ha, ye have a good eye, I sees. That be Signed armour. T'is also certified by the arsenal so's it can't be faked, but the arsenal don't buy it. A pity it is, cause it's the best you can do with steel. Those two pieces there belong to the Lord Mayor and his son, they sent them down here for cleaning. I won't tell you how much they're worth as you seem to have a weak constitution, my boy."

The blacksmith next directs you to another room. "T'is where we keep the exotics, you see." Once there you are almost overwhelmed by the variety of colours and styles. You point at a set of shiny Bronze armour.

"Bronze? Why would I bother with it? Its good for young warriors, the sort that you get a dozen for a penny, drop the lot of them on a battlefield and see if any come out alive. What? No, it is not completely bad. Sure, it's a little softer a metal than iron, you see, but it weathers wear and tear well enough. But you don't want iron either, that's not good. Well, bronze is cheaper, that is for sure, but it's dangerous heavy my boy; it makes you slow as a pig in the spit.

It won't kill ya, sure. Only thing is, sort of fellas who gotta wear that crap, they be the sort of fellas will get themselves killed."

The old man sees you looking in wonder at racks of rusty armour of all kinds.

"That's the armour ye'll see the most, lad, t'is called "of iron", or it ain't named at all. T'is not of iron, truly not of that alone. It's steel, lad, even if the not the best of steels. It won't hold a sharp temper. Besides, those who work with metal of lower quality, be assured, won't care much about working it well. But don't complain if you get it, my boy, it'll keep most blades away from your skin"

To the side, stored with care, are a few suits of shiny steel. The old man nods approvingly.

"Remember this well, my boy, go for the good steel. It will take ye twice as much gold, but t'will be worth triple that each time you have to defend yer neck. Its harder and takes a greater beating, and yet it is also lighter and lets you move better. Good armourers also make higher quality armour of other types. Ti's a mix of better craftsmanship and materials. It is usually called "proof" cause it's been tested. You can usually see the armourer's mark next to a nick, called the proof, where it was tested by a falling weight with a tip."

"What sort of steel is that?" you demand, showing him a couple of sets of black metal.

"Ah that's a wonder! Star iron. T'is made for the strongest warriors, my boy, only the strongest. The metal is as black as the night sky from which it fell riding a ball of fire, and it is true metal. T'is heavy as sin, hard to work and even harder to pierce. It is tougher than good steel, and will take twice as hard a beating before t'is ruined."

As you move around you stumble on something. Stooping, you pick up a shoulder plate made of some blood red steel.

"That bit of red metal you have there, boy, that's Cinnabar. T'is said it means "Dragon's blood", only it comes out of the earth like any other rock. T'is a wondrous strange metal, that one. The colour is of blood, and it lets you move fast as lightning, while t'is also harder than steel, yea, than Mythril even. Aye, I seen it at work. A young lord, I knew, a merry fellow, he had one of those. He could ride all day, fight like a devil and still hit hard when the sun set. Only that thing, he had to keep having it fixed. One day in a long battle he got killed cause it broke. It's the best thing for a quick fight and the girls love it, but for honest work, I'll take Steel every day of the week."

Trying not to look too ignorant, you ask if you can see a shirt of mythril chain.

"Mythril? You dreaming, boy? That's not what the likes o'you or I will ever wear. Some call it True Silver, and well it may be. It won't rust, you see, and it is as shiny as silver, but it is also better than steel. I once served under a lord who had a full set of Mythril plate, and with it he could move faster than we in our good steel. Aye, and he felt confident enough to lure a foe into striking hard and expose himself, and when the poor bastard saw that his blade didn't pierce through it was too late. There's no fault I can say about it, my boy, unless that be its price, the earth's curse on those greedy blacksmiths."

To the side is a jumbled pile of armour pieces. They're all dark grey, and some still have stains of blood. The old man laughs cruelly as he notices your interest.

"Shadow steel? You telling me you don't know? That's merc iron, lad. T'is called that 'cause mercenaries use it a lot. It's a mix of steel and sky iron. T'is called shadow cause its neither silverish nor yet black, sort of in between you see. Its good metal, I've worn it myself. A bit heavy, but it is as hard as a decent iron piece and it also lasts a good while longer. A hell of a lot longer, and when you're in the field that matters. A lot. Course, that alone won't save you. Those boys there, they had left their unit and were playing brigand. Do not pity them."

In the opposite side of the grey armour you see and point at three sets of shiny armour, one of bright gold, one of metallic green and one of dark, painted blue.

"Figured you'd like that.
Just as mercenaries buy shadow steel for themselves, captains and lords buy colored armour for their retainers. You see, it lets them make their men all wear their colours, and it also looks very good. This kind of armour is made to be painted well and often, its got a special rough finish. You'll find it made of iron and of good steel as well. They're as hard as that of which they're made, but they get damaged just a little faster, cause of the finish getting ruined you see. That also makes them just a bit heavier, but nothing that will trouble a warrior. Got a good advantage, though, they don't rust easy. That, my boy, is something every soldier is thankful for."