Dunstand grins at Sielwoodan’s obvious sarcasm and hummers the elf by making a pointless search of the decapitated serpent.
After giving the naga a last kick, he retrieves his daggers and lantern.
Tucking his daggers back in his sheaths he shacks out the lantern.
“I hope one of you has a second source of light, because this thing won’t be working any time soon, unless one of you has a ‘Spell spel Dry Wick’.”
Dunstand frowns at the overt blade.
“I thank you for the blade, but I think ill decline, I’m sure there is someone in the group that can put it to better use.”
“I do favor light blades but only go for a sword as a last resort. I favor my daggers that way I don’t have to be in the forefront of the battle.”
With a grin towards Sielwoodan he ads,
“That’s just the way sneaky rogues like me like to fight, a dagger in the back is better than a sword in the gut.”
Turning back to Aydan with a sleight bow,
“Still I thank you for this sign of trust, I know it can’t be easy offering a fine blade like that to a stranger. I’m not sure that I would, if the places where reversed, but you are a better man than me, and I can see why the rest of the group looks at you for guidance.”