Sylvar takes the dagger, he feels the balance, the craftsmanship, the magic...the weapon is special, he knows that for certain. He walks closer to Dewyyd, holding it upright, examining the runes in the light provided by his cloak.
In a moment of recognition, Sylvar's eyes widen. His expression changes quickly from puzzlement, then disbelief, then awe, until finally it settles in a large smile.
He muses internally ~~That little devil has some luck, how he managed to run across that I'll never know~~
Sylvar hands the dagger back to Tam...
"That, my friend, is none of other than "Darkfang" it's 650 years old and quite magical. Though I can't tell you in what way, perhaps one of the others can examine it and determine it's magical properties.
It was created by Arch Mage Yyrdrok for Sir Farris of Veluna. It was lost along with it's bearer in a failed expedition.
Well done, Tam, well done, that's quite the prize you've got, it'll fetch a pretty penny if we make it out alive. Though I dare say it's quite priceless for it's historical value."