The Alistair family, frustrated and determined to claim the liquid armor, shouted across the auction hall at the Blacksmith Guild pavilion. They directed their words at Rurik, mistakenly assuming that the one bidding from within was a blacksmith.
"You there, blacksmith! Do the right thing and let go of the armor! It belongs in noble hands!"
Little did they know that it was Raphael, not Rurik, who had been relentlessly raising the bid.
Other noble families, not wanting to be outdone or bullied by House Alistair, chimed in, rebuking their audacity.
"Who do they think they are, trying to dictate who gets the armor?"
"They're just scared that they won't be the ones to claim it!"
Amidst the tense exchange, Rurik responded with a jovial remark, attempting to diffuse the tension with humor.
"Well, if you're offering to buy me a drink after I let go of the armor, maybe we can talk!"
