Look. Shhhhhh. Shhh. Shhh. It's ok, look.
I get it. We are all little flecks of light clawing for the chance to grab each other's attention, for a chance to look into each other's eyes. It's ok, you don't have to be belligerent about it. I will let you look into my eyes.
I thank you for your remarks, all, for through them I can see the effectiveness of my work.
Picture you are an ulber, stumbling through the grasses of the wilderness with not much on your mind, when suddenly, a flash of light, a beam of dissonant frequencies. You are blinded, startled, pain in your pea-sized brain. Unable to weigh any other options, you charge forward to the source of discomfort, fangs and claws bared, snarling, lashing forth. You reach your target and what are you confronted with? A garish iron shield, festooned with small steel rivets and containing a blindingly bright circular pattern. This enrages you! Oh, you can't stand it! What sick and twisted mind could create such a foul horror! Danger! Danger!
You flail your claws and teeth about, only to be met with a hard resistance. Suddelny a piercing pain in your side. You yowl in agony and glance at the wound, but where did it come from? You look about for your target, but what do you see? A garish iron shield, festooned with small steel rivets and containing a blindingly bright circular pattern.
Fail to see the metaphor? The walrus is Paul.
What is the one thing you want to bring attention to in combat? Your shield. That is its function. To draw attention away from your main force, so you may strike when your enemy is not looking. Don't you want your shield to blind your opponent? Don't you want to enrage them with its audacity that it becomes the only thing they can focus on? A shield can take a hit, your face can't. These are the shields I offer to you. I will be selling them at the Amdeneir Fair.