Throat and Groin

When Dardalion joined him Waylander blinked in mock disbelief. A white horse-hair plumed helmet was buckled at the chin, and the leather-trimmed cloak lay over a shimmering breastplate embossed with a flying eagle. A leather kilt, studded with silver, protected Dardalion’s thighs, while silver greaves were buckled to his calves. By his side hung a cavalry sabre, and on his left hip a long, curved knife sat in a jewelled scabbard.

“You look ridiculous,” said Waylander.

“Most probably. But will it serve?”

“It will serve to draw the Vagrians to you like flies to a cowpat.”

“I do feel rather foolish.”

“Then take it off and find yourself something less garish.”

“No. I can’t explain why, but this is right.”

“Then keep away from me, priest. I want to stay alive!”

“Will you not get yourself some armour?”

“I have my mail shirt. I don’t intend to stand in one place long enough to be cut.”

“I would appreciate some advice on swordsmanship,” said Dardalion.

“Gods of Mercy!” snapped Waylander. “It takes years to learn and you have an hour, maybe two. There’s nothing I can teach you—just remember throat and groin. Protect your own, slice theirs!”

— Waylander, Chapter 7