The noble house of Silverbrook

"They're all dead?" Michael inquired, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"It's just you and me now, lad. I never even asked your name," Rurik remarked, sighing.

"John," Michael offered a fabricated name.

"Alright, John. Do you still want to join the guild?" Rurik asked, and Michael casually shrugged.

"Yeah, unless you go back on your word," Michael reminded him. Thankfully, Rurik shook his head.

"We did suffer a significant loss. But fortunately, most of the master blacksmiths aren't here in this guild. We can replace the guards. It's a pity we lost Aranion and Nazrag," Rurik lamented as he gazed at the lifeless bodies of his fellow master blacksmiths.