"Why all the yelling?" you ask.
"The..." the commander shudders again. "The pain... In our heads... It's unbearable."
You scratch your head. You have no idea why they are complaining so much. Your headache is bearable. Maybe they aren't used to being smashed on the head on a regular basis? Oh well.
You begin thinking how you could communicate with them while you are awake. Since they can access your senses, you can just talk to yourself, or write something down. Can they read English? Probably not. How will they communicate with you? You think on this or a moment.
As you think, your headache fades and the goblins get off of the floor.
"Oh," you say. "You've decided to stop your bitching?"
"Silence." The shaman says icily. "We are not conditioned against such tortures."
You think to reply, but decide not to. Instead, you say, "While I'm awake, how will you two talk to me?"
They remain silent for a long while. Finally, the shaman speaks. "You've been searching for the large beast in the caves."
"Is that a question?"
"No. You have tried communicating with it through auras."
"I think so. It screamed at me, and almost killed me."
"We can do the same to communicate. We must avoid noise. We will be unable to hear each other if we do not."
You begin to reply, but you awaken. You stand up and walk toward the blue luminance again. You confirm that it is indeed coming from a stone. A beautiful, glimmering stone that pulses with unnatural energy. Emotions rush through you. You want to run up and grab some for yourself. You want to run far, far away and never gaze upon its awful visage again.
You feel greed welling up inside of you, urging you forward. It becomes more powerful, overwhelming the fear and caution. You take a tentative step forward, then another. You get close, very close. You reach into your pack and pull out your copper knife. The words 'It won't work' enter your mind. You reach out and dig with the knife. The stone crumbles away slowly, and when you fill your pockets you step back.
The madness retreats, and you can think clearly again. What the hell came over you? You shake it off and leave.
Once you leave the mines, you feel urged to go to the forges. You have nowhere else to be, so why not? You navigate to the nearest smelter and place all of your little, glowing rocks into the bar mold. As the stones melt, your arms, moving of their own accord, skim off the useless fouling from the metal. Your arms move the mold off of the heat, and it cools into a solid mass. You notice that your bracelet is gleaming brightly, almost blinding you. Your body continues to move by itself as it grabs the newly formed bar and starts hammering it into a knife.
When you regain control of your limbs, you have a knife of this astounding blue metal, but have no idea how you made it. Your hands did craft it, but you're pretty sure that you weren't the one forging it. You wonder what you should you call it.