Sure thing, the other day a giant, winged lizard tried to gobble me up in the market square. I flicked a bottle of pepper‑oil into its eye, it shrieked, spun around and crashed into a merchant's cart instead. Now the townsfolk laugh every night they roast a pig that looks suspiciously like that lizard.

You’re right, aim for the heart if you want a clean kill, not a spectacular mess. I’ll keep my steel and wit polished for the next battle, just in case that lizard decides to go for a second round.