The Steel Shielder

Metalic Meetings and Balancing Blame on a Beam

So Naofumi was still pretty jet lagged when he was shaken awake by a maid and told he was needed in the throne room, only just having the time to grab his once again bound stack of chests and his duffle before being shoved out the door with an apple by another, much more sympathetic, maid.

Quickly making his way to where the king wished to see him, only stopping when too-long pants tripped him or his lean-dolly got caught on the uneven floors, a groggy shield hero stumbled into view of his fellows.

Hair a mess from sleep and tracksuit jacket unzipped to reveal a tight leotard-like undershirt made of spandex or a similar material, it's understandable that he didn't garner much support from the adventurers that had somehow gathered overnight to support them. In fact, Naofumi was almost glad that he was going to be left alone for now before he was practically forced to party up with a red haired girl in impractical clothing who kept clinging to his arm and chest.

Despite his attempts to convey his sheer discomfort and fear to the other heroes and the king himself, Naofumi unfortunately found himself walking down the road to the blacksmith his unwanted companion recommended to him as she babbled in about how wealthy he must be to have so much gear already and such 'luxurious' material for his clothing.

He was honestly pretty scared of this "Myne" chick, eerily reminded of the people who would cling to him and his fellow big name athletes in an attempt to get money or scandal fodder from them. He had actually fiddled with his new weapon of sorts the night before in the bath, unlocking some shields and discovering a storage function for some items like soap, herbs and coins that he had in his wallet. As soon as he got away from the throne room all the money he was given was dumped into the shield, not wanting a repeat of the pickpocket incidents of Moscow, Rio, and London again.

Entering the shop was like a dip into a pool of nostalgia, the smells of metal, polish, wood, oil, dirty cloths from the maintenance bins and leather all reminding him of the huge storage closets at his training facilities and the homes and workshops of custom crafters he would visit for some of his own personal gear.

"Hey, how can I help you today? You looking to trade or something, kid?" Came the voice of a tanned man, the only hair on his head that on his chin and the slightly bulging muscles of a person who spent most of their time in an old-style smithy straining the rolled sleeves of a simple work-stained shirt.

His hesitation to discus what he needed with others around was probably evident on the athlete's face, eyes flickering between the young woman who seemed oblivious to his plight, the trunks he pulled along with him, and his lower legs.

"Hey, missy, do I know you? Ah, whatever, doesn't matter. This kid needs some armor I'm guessing and he's likely going to need custom fit based on how he's built which takes a while. Why don't you go browse the crafts fair a few blocks down until we're done. They got some mages and out of town smiths selling things so it won't just be silly baubles this time around if that's a concern of yours."

Myne seemed to want to protest at the not-so-discrete command from the older man, only caving once his eyes started to harden to the point of seeming to be able to crack stone with a glance. Gulping, she darted out of the shop and down to the aforementioned bimonthly open air market in the town square. She seemed only a few moments away from a tantrum not unlike a toddler to passersby as she sat on the edge of the fountain controlled by a runic array in the base of the structure.

Back in the smithy, Naofumi had just managed to explain what he needed and to pass over the contents of his largest 2 trunks in the back customs and crafting room when the shop's door bell tinkled with another customer's entrance. Needing to wrap up the current situation in order to have it written down properly, Erhart repeated what the younger wanted him to do before money changed hands and he left his workroom. The younger followed a few moments later walking differently than before.