The mail saved his life on three occasions, deflecting a spear-point in the Mines of Moria, an Orc-arrow along the Anduin, and finally Saruman's knife at Bag End.

His mail saved him, though he had to gasp to breathe.

With a groan the victim fell, and at the instant Conan was dashed into the snow, his left shoulder numb from the blow of the survivor, from which the Cimmerian's mail had barely saved his life.

Only his mail saved him from being ripped to ribbons in an instant.

Again his mail saved him from cruel death, for sharp as were the beaks and claws of the young griffins, they could not pierce to any vital spot of his body.

Down along the river, half-naked tribesmen, waist-deep in reddening water, tore and slashed with helmeted warriors whose mail could not save them from the stroke of the Dalcassian ax.

The mail saved Frodo's life when he was hit by a Cave-troll spear during the battle in the Chamber of Mazarbul, and again when an Orc arrow struck him while escaping Moria.

But Conan's thews were iron too, and his mail saved him from the gnashing fangs and ripping claws long enough for him to drive home his dagger, again and again and again.