The blacksmith chuckled richly at his words and got up, moving over to a supply cupboard and hefting out a familiar looking suit of armour, the kind the guards wore. "This here will do. But the guards here use numbers set into their armour to tell one another apart. So i'm going to have to do a little work." he explained, sitting back down. "Coin's good and all lad, but it's ichor that pays a smith like me. If you've got a flask of that, I can do work for you." the old man nodded as he got settled upon the stool again.