We were crossing a ridge when Corgan was lifted off the ground by something. "Shoot it! Shoot the tyrannosaur!" he screamed as blood streamed from the puncture wounds that had opened up in belly. I fired into the empty space above him to no effect. Then Corgan's ragged corpse dropped to the forest floor, and I was alone. Utterly alone. There was no dinosaur. There was nothing.
A sentiment weapon that is very impressionable in terms of what is right and wrong, akin to a child. Currently, being ownerless, it is not very powerful. However, once it has found an owner, it can provide significant boosts to the wielder in an area or areas the wielder most desire. What adventures will this sentiment weapon go through? How will it develop itself in terms of power and personality?