|NAME shot right back with a poem of his/her own. It was so sublimely composed, with meaning layered upon meaning like the layers of an onion, it left Byron speechless. A tear rolled down the wizard's cheek, for he hadn't heard a poem of such quality in many years. Byron the Silvertongue came quietly after that, returning the artifacts and facing his punishment bravely.
||NAME shouted some vulgarity back at Byron and charged. What NAME hadn't realized was that the wizard's words were also a spell, and he/she ran smack into an invisible wall of force, knocking him/herself out. When NAME awoke, Byron the Silvertongue was long gone, with the only remaining evidence being a small scroll with the poem inscribed upon it.