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Larry saw the Nightblade begin to glow brightly, moreso than he’d ever seen it occur before and as he touched the hilt, it was found freezing to the touch, and he remembered the last time it had been so cold, years ago. This did not bode well, but as suddenly as it had registered high magic nearby, it went blank as though “defeated”. That had never happened before…and while he was yet sorting it out, he had been approached by what appeared to be a lich or other undead creature. Larry was so paralyzed with a fearful shock that he knew not what to do even as the lich removed his weapon from his own hands as though taking a toy from a child. However, no attack came, and the lich gave the sword back to him and retreated a few steps, seemingly amused at the Nightblade but at the same time rating it with a critic’s cold opinion and claiming that it would not work.
Does he mean to say that attacking him would be fruitless, seeing as his power is greater than that of the Nightblade’s usefulness against him?
Just then Larry’s heart calmed a moment, for his mind had been racing and he’d finally discovered an answer to this mystery. This had to be a baelnorn he faced. He was in an elvish settlement, albeit outside the town itself. Baelnorns were good-aligned elven liches. The fact that the once-great Mage of Ironworks was here, so close by…having brought problems to this very town previously four years ago…this protector was now come to observe what Larry Silverfall was doing back here again…to ensure that no trouble was brewing.
With his composure returned, he responded to the baelnorn.
”Fear not Great One, as I shall not attack you for I have not come to destroy nor desecrate but to alleviate. I have come to reclaim my sleeping wife with magic that is safe to use here, and will only be directed at one single target, and she lies here, dead. I am her husband and I tend to resurrect her. I ask of you only to allow me to complete my duty.”
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