Togali cocks his head to the side when you present the blade and the story, and a strange little half-smirk flickers across the ancient creature's lips.<br/><br/>"Well, that's a discovery in and of itself... Even in death, Curchanus still holds some degree of power." The dwelf reaches out and hefts the blade in one hand, letting the point angle down to the earth as he looks at the bone-like hilt and pommel in closer detail. "Ah... this is the same sword I gave your little gnome friend, I see. Forged by a man back in my hometown, when I was still just a lad. As far as "potential" goes, I'm afraid that the blade has only as much as any other sword... it's the guardian spirit residing inside that has the power."<br/><br/>For a few moments, the ancient wizard chants minor spells and runs simple tests. Hefting, swinging, thrusting (all awkwardly- but he obviously has never been tasked with using a sword of his own, so it can be forgiven); until finally, he thrusts the tip of the blade back into the earth, as if rooting it into the ground.<br/><br/>"Well, Lisra, I will say this: the spirit in your blade is still very inert. I could give it a little shot of arcane power, and perhaps wake it... but you would have to coexist with that spirit whenever you wield this blade. And the Tyrant of the Earth can be a bit much to handle... He is the embodiment of Nature's power, after all..."