[Tancred]

Tancred sits at the table glumly, his own pride injured by the wound he took. He concentrates on some crumbs of bread on the table, playing an impromptu game of chess with them. He is glum and depressed.
Karnas lies propped up in a chair, gradually getting more frustrated. Look into the mind of a sword, even a sentient one, and you will see its' nature; a thing made for battle. It longs to be used. It loves whoever wields it with fanatic dedication if treated well, and rewards such care with good service. But an idle sword is an affront to the very soul of all swords everywhere. Right now, Karnas can see the future - a future hung over a mantlepiece while he watches his wielder grow old and weak. And it terrifies him. Suddenly, even the coarse soul of the golden blade cares.

"Um... holy-boy... are you alright over there?"
No answer.
"Uh... you there?"
Silence.
"Look, I know I laughed and everything, but... well, come on, it WAS funny."
Chilly silence, slouch further into chair.
"Can't you take a joke?"
The very sound of silence.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
Turns further away.
"Holy-boy! Come on! Stop acting like a baby!"
No reaction.
"Awww, fine! Be like that, then!"
Still no reaction.
"Come on! Snap out of it! Or are you really the spineless virgin I always thought you were? Come on, be a MAN!"
There is almost no reaction. There is silence, punctuated by a small, solemn (snif), and a slight shiver. The sword sees a small tear fall from the Paladin's face. With a guilty twinge, Karnas realises he might just have to change tact for this.
"Um, er, look, I'm sorry, ok? Come on, pull yourself together..."
Another tear.
"OK, look, what they did was a shock, I'll bet, and I know you weren't in the most stable frame of mind... don't worry, they're all sorry. Look at them."
More sniffing, and a slight choke.
"Come on, don't do this to yourself! Think of the good times! Caleb's cock-ups! Shieldy's benevolence! Mel's smile(holy pants, what a smile)! Come on, man, times are good! Live with them!"
Slow shake of head, another tear.
"PLEASE! Don't cry! It's going to be alright!"
Silence.
"There's quests out there! Dragons to slay! Damosels to rescue! Maidens to woo! Treasure to collect! And it's still waiting! You're too young for all this wounded pride Paladin hero angst crud! Don't let the Realms pass you by!"
Slight straighteneing of back, perking up of head.
"Look at me. Once the most powerful of an ancient order, now nothing more than a sword. Does it get me down? NO! I learned to take pleasure in the simple things. The feel of battle, the triumph, the rewards - yes, even your company! You aren't so bad! OK, so I make fun of you occasionally, but hey, man, I'm trapped in a SWORD! I'm hardly likely to be completley well-balanced personality-wise, am I?"
Slight turn of head towards sword.
"Come on. Pick me up. Find some quest. Kick the hell out of some Undead." Karnas hates himself for dropping the bomb, but decides there's no other way. "What would Siona say if she found you, in ten years time, an old sot in a bar? A has-been Paladin? What would she say if she found you NOW? You're better than that, man. And she knew it. So do you."
A slight glance to the rose entwined with blonde hair on the table, a nervous look to the sword. An expression of utmost regret crosses the Paladin's face, swiftly replaced by one of angry thought.
"Please." For once - anq quite possibly just this once - Karnas' voice loses its' wheedling, snide tone. "Tancred. Please."
For a long, tense silence, the Paladin weighs up the truth of his sword's words while Karnas anxiously watches.
At the last, after an eternity of heartbeats has passed, a fierce grin splits the Paladin's glum face, and his eyes sparkle with, not tears, but resolve. He leaps up, grabs his sword from the table, and charges towards the peril, screaming his battlecry and whirling his sword around his head, aflame with battlelust -
He stops when he realises there are no baddies left and everyone's having a barbeque. All eyes turn to the strange tableau of the suddenly frozen Paladin and a speechless sword.
Slowly, honestly, the pair of them begin to laugh, and Tancred wanders over to the grill to see what's cooking.