The question Trilk posed was most intriguing. "Hmmm. Iron Death." Unim's eyes suddenly became more serious. His smile faded and he looked more closely at Trilk. "I presume you are not speaking of the the iron death that all dwarven constructs face nor the disease converts flesh to iron until the patients final fate. No..." His eyes focuses on Trilks heavy clothing.
"I suppose you must be speaking of the vulnerability of all the children of Oberon, king of all the Fae. Yes. There is no mistake about it. That is the Iron Death you ask of. Be fearful no longer. I am quite the physician." All the seriousness leaves him and he smiles once more. "I know about your kind and sadly there is no treatment nor cure for such a thing for the Iron Death is no disease or ailment. But as you must know already there are safeguards and wards most helpful. If you are in need of my services, I will treat you properly."
Unim pulls out several four surgical knives with his left hand. "Ash, Elm, Hazel, and Oak. These are my wondrous friends, savior of many." He makes them vanish and with his right hand he reveals four more knives. "Silver, Gold, Obsidian, and Jade. These are my companions, peace bringers and guardians of balance. With these no fae may be harmed. With these creatures of land, sea, and sky are soothed." Unim snaps out of his reverie and puts away his knives. "Sorry for such an outburst. But I wish you not to fear me, for I am here to help." He looks away as if embarrassed.