"Scouting party? You weren't my reinforcements? Hey! No, no, no." Yvain leaned forward and shook the male by his collar and shook his limp body, but it wasn't of any use. He was gone. She pulled back and scooted out of his pooling blood. The only civilized voice she had heard since the battle and now it was silent forever, unless one of those dammed necromancers had made it through unscathed but she was sure this place would already be flooded with zombies were that the case. Just one more dead dark elf. She didn't even know this ones name. 

She sighed, rubbing her head, and took a look at that sword he had been so insistent about in his final moments. To her surprise she found it looking back. She jumped to her feet, slapping her hands over her mouth to keep her yelp from alerting any vicious murderers that happened to be lurking in these tunnels. 

She held her pose and had a staring contest with the sword. 

It blinked first.

She didn't think it knew they had been playing a game, but she was more confident now that she had beaten it.

Slowly, carefully, she reached down and laid her hand lightly on the blade. No burning. No immediate possession. She hadn't switched alignments, she didn't think. She picked up the sword, a genuinely magic sword. She had never held one anymore. Who was this guy that had been cut down in the dark that he would have a honest to gods magical sword? "Then again, it's not like it did him much good." She said, without even realizing she was speaking. She examined it, trying to find some sort of button or magic word carved somewhere that could activate it. "Maybe all it does is look at stuff?"

[@Dark Light]