“Look at your hand, cold one, where you grasp the blade,” Tigarn Nocerre said coolly.
The lich heard the loud sound of the sword hitting the stone floor of the cavern. His right hand was gone! It was just bones to begin with, but now it was gone!
“Did you place Holy Water in the mixture?” the lich howled angrily.
“Don’t be silly! Why would I weaken my weapon with a conscience? The Death of Magick can’t grace the hand of a spell caster. Are you not a spell caster?” Tigarn said.
The lich howled again.
benjamintowe 