Description

These sturdy shirts or hauberks are usually made of light mithril plates riveted to a sturdy leather backing. It is especially favoured in Varushka and Highguard. In the Brass Coast these suits are made of reinforced leather scales, and are often dyed blue or green and called Cerulean Scale, after the herb cerulean mazzarine. The name Cerulean Scale was once far more widely used until a successful play in Tassato employed the pun Splint Mail. The name caught on among the Free Companies who spread it to the armies of other nations who hired them. The Highborn troops resisted the comedic term, but it stuck among nearly everyone else.

The main advantage of this armour comes when the warrior has reduced coverage of arms or legs for some reason, especially among warriors who prefer the freedom granted by minimizing the amount of restrictive armour they are wearing. Archers particularly appreciate both the freedom of movement and the restorative power of the armour, for as it is said in the Marches there are few creatures as miserable as a one-armed archer.

Rhyv, the rune of blood, is fairly commonly employed on this armour for its general healing ability, though Bravash, the rune of fertility, is also used to encourage the bones to grow back together rapidly. The runes are often embossed into the leather, but some smiths cut the mithril plates into the shape of the runes, creating a bold form of decoration as well as anchoring the enchantment. Given the use of both Spring runes and the association with herbs, some suits bear elaborate floral patterning.

Rules

  • Form: Armour. Takes the form of a suit of medium armour. You must be wearing this armour to use its magical properties.
  • Requirement: Any character can bond to this item.
  • Effect: You may spend a hero point to use the relentless skill as if you know it.
  • Materials: Crafting a suit of Splint Mail requires three ingots of weltsilver, six measures of ambergelt, and three ingots of orichalcum. It takes one month to make one of these items.
The artisan looked up from his workbench, and put down his pliers.

"Ah, Wojciech, but we are not the Winterfolk to fight as heroes before solid ranks on a clearly defined field. Not the Dawnish, with their servants to aid them. We are wardens, and we must go wherever the wicked go, follow where they lead. We must depend on ourselves, and our skills, our preparation. Not on the sort of baggage train that might follow an army, with its medical supplies and chirurgeons and apothecaries."

He gestured at the half-finished hauberk on the bench, and on the pots of liquids, and stacks of rare metals that stood to one side.

"Take this armour. It is fronted with light metal scales, so it protects. It does not restrict my arms, so I can fight. It is light, so it lets me run. These qualities are common to any well-crafted armour. But I have imbued it with magic to be my physic, for I go where I cannot depend on one to follow. See this varnish? That is ambergelt, for healing. This caustic? Beggar's lye. These metals? Green iron, welt silver and orichalcum. With these materials, I have crafted my own physician, my own support. When a cunning blow hit to a limb strikes where the armour does not cover, or where an arrow pierces, I can call on this magical protection to remain in the fight, or to run if needs be to fight another day. The Highborn call this splint mail: it is probably the closest they will come to humour. I call it essential."