Smaar Janderfut's page

Smaar comes trotting out of the smithy carrying the shield you were looking at. "Ah, you forgot your shield, good sir. Can't have you getting banged around, now. You have a good day, and remember to hold it just like I told you." he says, before returning inside to the shop.

A masterwork heavy steel shield, with shield spikes is you! I mean, is yours.

"Other than marching straight up to the gates? Not really. You could ask a lot of questions around town; the guards are quick to jump on anyone they think are speaking out against the Baron. There's a rumour that there's a secret passage under the town that leads straight to the keep, but I don't know anything about it. It might just be a rumour."

Smaar takes a moment to make sure the guards aren't paying attention. "Now, you mentioned that there were other people here with you. If you guys need a safe space to say, I've got the cellar here outfitted with some cots and supplies. If you guys need a place to stay, you're more than welcome. The entrance is 'round back and the door locks from the inside. It's safe and discreet, if ya need it."

Smaar follows Guligak's eyes to the mistletoe wedged in his armour, and his eyes widen a little, knowingly. He turns his head just a moment to scrutinize the two guards at the entrance to his smithy. "Sure thing. I'm glad you like it. We can talk payment in the back."

Smaar motions for Guligak to follow him past the worktables, and over to where his oldest son is busy pounding away the beginnings of a blade at an anvil; the sound and commotion acts as a buffer to speak freely.

"Ok, it seems we have common friends. I had hoped they would send someone. Are you here to take out the Baron?"

"A warrior, through and through, eh? Well, my weapons are rarely dripping with gore of any sort. I haven't done the marauding adventurer thing for some time. Not since my wife died, anyway. I need to make a living to support my sons. They're too young to lose me too. But the weapons I make are solid, and they'll certainly be covered in the gore of your enemies. Your shield too, I'm sure. I've got something in mind for you."

Smaar brings Guligak over to a row of shields of all kinds. A number of well-made tower shields are lined against the wall, but Smaar pulls a particularly deadly looking shield off the wall. Studded with numerous bright red spikes, this heavy metal shield is obviously the work of a master craftsman.

Five young boys move about the workshop; obviously the owner's sons. They carry heavy things, fill buckets, polish armour, and generally work hard from what Guligak can see.

When you stride over to him, the large bear of a man smiles warmly at you, wipes his hand with a clean rag, and extends his hand to you. His grip is firm and steady.

"Trolls eh? Nasty, nasty things. I've faced a few in my day, and I can safely say that they are far too dumb to know what to do with a shield. No sense of self preservation when everything grows back, eh? I'm sad to see a piece of work go unused, either way. I've got a number of shields here, but if you were thinking of something a little more special, we could work that out as well. I'm Smaar Janderfut by the way, and these are my boys. What did you have in mind?"

Basically any PHB shield could be found here. If you have something else in mind, like a masterwork version, or one with spikes, or one that sprays acid, he'll have to make it for you. It shouldn't take too long with his help, though.