The Charmed Pendant
Something in you hesitates. You're not quite sure why. The monster's slitted gaze doesn't leave you, and for a long moment, you both just stare each other down.
Then, after that heavy silence has grown more curious than dangerous, a rattling sound, bristly and coarse, travels across the chasm towards you, and you realize the monster has begun to chuckle.
((I thought you would run.))
Its voice is unlike anything you've ever heard before. You're not sure you could even call it a voice; but you can understand the words nonetheless.
((Don't worry. I wouldn't have eaten you once I realized you were not a simple beast of the wilds. But I decided to bring you here even after I recognized what you were. Just to see if you were brave enough.)) The monster leans into a crouch that you could almost call friendly. ((I am no ordinary mimic. I was created as a sorcerer's thrall, though my original master is long gone from this world. I can dedicate myself as companion and servant to anyone I deem worthy.))
You're not certain where the mimic is going with this. Bewildered, you point to yourself,
brow raised in surprise.
((I mean you no disrespect, but I have waited so long for anyone to even stand in my presence without cowering in me from terror that I am not particularly concerned with worthiness anymore. I am bored and lonely. And I wish to leave this muddy trench behind. Good or evil, I would be willing to join you if you'll simply have me.)) The mimic's eyes glitter. ((I can transform into a pendant to be worn around your neck, if you agree.))
You consider for another long moment. The silence falls again, but the mimic doesn't seem perturbed by your need to think carefully. You wonder if you can really trust it, but then again, if it had wanted to do you harm, it could have done that on the trip down here to begin with.
Finally, you give a solemn nod. The mimic's wooden maw turns up at the corners in a smile.
((Very good.))
A wispy black smoke begins to dance around the mimic's strange limbs. It begins to collapse in on itself, individual slats of wood folding together tighter and tighter until a small shape begins to form at the center. A quick golden gleam precedes the forming of a chain, then the solid shape falls into your grasp. It is a noble and stately wooden heart.
Taking a breath, you slip the gold chain over your head and let the pendant fall against your chest. It pulses with something you're certain is magic, but you don't feel afraid. The only aura you feel able to detect from the mimic's diminished form is something like eagerness. Maybe even joy.
This is certainly not how you expected your afternoon to go. You look around, and see a series of roots that lead back to the top of the chasm. It's going to be a climb, but once your feet are on the ground you know once more, you'll finally be able to make your way home.
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