Lorsan arranged the strange shield in the only chair in his room, staring at it as it gave him its own puzzled look. Summoning Mercy, who was now back to their usual whip form, he laid the Hexblade just in front of the shield in her chair.
“Here goes nothing…” he said to the empty room.
Mercy, are you there? Can you hear me? he thought.
Child, I am always present, in your thoughts and in your actions. Mercy responded, slightly bored.
“Well that’s creepy” Lorsan whispered. The face on the shield grimaced at him. “I really need to stop with these grab-and-go decisions.” he said, glaring back at the shield.
I have a question that I think you’re well qualified to answer… he started.
Mercy silenced his thoughts. No, you should not seek vengeance on the grave robber. It is none of my concern. You took without asking as well, after all.
Lorsan was puzzled at the response. What? No. Not that. The shield. I wanted to ask you about the shield.
He felt Mercy’s gaze settle on the shield’s now worried face. It keeps making those faces, like it wants to say something but never does. I’m worried it’s sentient, but it forgot how to talk being stuck so long in that tomb. You’re at the very least sort of a sentient weapon
Again Mercy silenced Lorsan, first with cruel laughter then a disapproving clucking. Never again compare me to … that. It is hurtful that you might compare me to such... lowly theatrics. It is little more than a shield. The face is an enchantment. It morphs and changes to match the feelings whoever handles it. Utterly useless. A quite odd waste of magic.
Lorsan’s shoulders sank. Well that’s… not what I had hoped. I already have a face. It already pretty much shows what I’m feeling. Not much point in doubling that.
No, one of them is quite enough. Mercy replied drily.
Did, did you just make a joke? Lorsan laughed.
Mercy sighed. Our time together is collaborative. I will teach you many powerful things. And you will give me bad habits it seems.
Lorsan smiled. The shield smiled. Lorsan’s eyes rolled, and so did the shields. Okay, this is not helping me. I wish I could just talk to you, face to face I mean. This brain-talk stuff is… I don’t know… weird? I’m used to seeing faces, sensing people’s moods.
I cannot pull you into a dream everytime you want to chat. Mercy chided. That is a waste of my powers and, frankly, an excuse for you to nap.
The laugh tore from Lorsan before he could stop it. Okay, I admit, that sounds like me. But hear me out. The shield right? What if you were linked to it instead of me. Then we could talk face to face whenever. Plus you could glare and shout at our enemies!
Again, It cannot talk. Mercy reminded him.
Well, you can glare at least! That’s more than now. Besides, you know there have been times you’ve wanted to stare down and curse at people I’ve met. You could do it with this!
This is absurd. Mercy responded, however she did not sound as dismissive as before.
Tell you what, Lorsan thought. I have to go see Forge about my armor. I’ll leave you here to ponder it. If you hate the idea, just poof back to wherever you hang out these days. If not, you’ll have time with just the two of you to talk? it over. I don’t know what you’d call it actually/ Meld with it? I’m sure there’s a word for it.
Walking towards the door, Lorsan removed his chainmail from its hooks and rushed from the room before Mercy could object any further.
In his mind, he felt Mercy sigh. The shield rolled its eyes.
Then, the shield smiled.