"I think you would have had to actually kill one or two of them," he says flatly, "and those were the two whose families were not to be crossed." He nods.
"I believe this during in his living-in-the-forest-and-appearing-mad phase," he explains. "He showed up on a stag, leading a herd of deer. You'll appreciate this, though--when the man laughed at him, he reputedly ripped an antler right off the stag's head to kill him with."
"In aid of your simplicity guise," he explains.
"Actually, it was quite a tall person," he says absently, frowning. "And almost certainly mad, there was just something about him... something dark, I think." Trying to rake him over the coals for using 'white' magic, whatever the hell that was supposed to be, might have been a clue, but really it was more a sixth-sense thing. The giant in the yellow raincoat had made the hair on the back of Severus's neck go ruler-straight just by standing there.
He shakes his head. "Doubtless you can, but transmuted metal never has the effect of the true earth's blood. I'd better loan you one; here." His hand goes into his coat, moves for a few moments, and then emerges with a doll-sized copper sickle. "A finite will un-shrink it. Please don't use it on the chupacabra if you see one; their planetary effect is never as strong or reliable once they've drunk blood." It takes bloody forever to cleanse a copper knife that you've even nicked yourself with quite accidentally, without emotion or intent. Venus is, after all, infamous for having fits of the vapors.