Sinclaire: Indeed, I am. *He reaches forward and gingerly holds the weapon, turning it over from end to end and inspecting the blade. He rubs his gloved hand across the Nordic runes on the handle, causing small snowflakes to waltz through the air* ...Well, it is clear that this weapon is real. *to the thieves* Who did you steal this from? Girard: Some sort of elf. He seemed rather...dark.