The group ventured deeper into the dense forest, Sora walked quietly beside them, mix of curiosity and unease on his mind. Why do I always end up in these situations? he thought, his talons crunching softly against the forest floor.

  First, I get kidnapped in my sleep then told to lay eggs while almost being feed junk and gold.

  And was ransomed by that goblin with a monocle that Calem would probably make as a figure.

  Then poked and prodded by a hyper halfling, and now we're walking straight into a troll-infested part of the island.

  What next? A dragon?

  The group's banter helped lighten the mood, though Sora couldn't help but feel a little out of place. Fiara and Muta exchanged playful jabs, while Mikalien rambled on about the potential scientific discoveries they might make. Creed, as usual, remained calm and observant, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. Sora's chirps were soft and occasional, his way of contributing to the conversation without actually speaking.

  Their chatter came to an abrupt halt when they heard it—chanting. Low, guttural voices echoed through the trees, growing louder as they approached a clearing. The group exchanged wary glances before creeping closer, careful not to make too much noise. What they saw stopped them in their tracks.

  In the center of the clearing stood a small, makeshift altar made of stacked stones and branches. Around it, a group of trolls knelt in a circle, their large, hulking forms surprisingly graceful in their reverence. On the altar was a pile of fruits—apples, berries, and other forest offerings—arranged neatly. Those look good

  The trolls chanted in unison, their deep voices harmonizing in an eerie, almost hypnotic rhythm.

  "Oh great dark lord, here be our offering," they intoned, their heads bowed low.

  The group tensed, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons. Fiara's eyes narrowed, she flexed her metal claws. Muta cracked his knuckles before pulling out his hammer, ready for a fight. Mikalien, however, looked more intrigued than afraid, her scientific curiosity overriding her sense of danger. Sora, meanwhile, let out a soft, nervous chirp, his feathers puffing up slightly.

  Creed, however, was the only one who didn't seem alarmed. In fact, his face contorted into the most confused expression Sora had ever seen.

  The elf's eyes blinked rapidly, his attunement with nature spirits kicking in. As the trolls continued their chanting, Creed's confusion only deepened. He could sense it—the presence they were worshiping wasn't a "dark lord" at all. It was a spirit, and not just any spirit. A wind spirit.

  What in the world...? Creed thought, his brow furrowing. These trolls are worshiping a wind spirit? And calling it a dark lord? How did they even—?

  Before Creed could process the absurdity of the situation, one of the trolls suddenly stood up, his eyes scanning the edge of the clearing. The group froze, holding their breath. The troll's gaze landed on them, and he let out a loud, guttural shout, pointing in their direction.

  "Intruderz!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the trees. "You dare dizrupt the zacred ritual of the Dark Magi Tribe daily offering."

  The other trolls immediately stopped chanting and turned toward the group, their expressions shifting from reverence to hostility. Fiara growled showing her teeth. Muta cracked his neck, ready to charge. Mikalien, still fascinated, muttered something about "cultural misinterpretations," while Sora let out a panicked chirp, his wings flapping nervously. Oh no are they gonna fight. I thought we where here to talk.

  Creed, however, stepped forward, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Wait!" he called out, his voice calm but firm. "We mean no harm! We're just... travelers passing through."

  The trolls hesitated, their eyes narrowing as they studied Creed. One of them, a larger troll with a necklace of bones, stepped forward, his voice booming. "You dare interrupt our sacred ritual? The dark lord will not be pleased!"

  Creed blinked, his confusion returning. "Dark lord? You mean... the wind spirit?"

  The trolls exchanged puzzled glances, their hostility momentarily replaced by confusion. "Wind spirit?" the bone-necklace troll repeated, his tone skeptical. "No, this is the dark lord! The great and powerful entity who commands the storms and brings the winds!"

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  Creed pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. Of course, he thought. They've mistaken a wind spirit for some kind of malevolent deity. This is going to be a long day.

  As the trolls began to argue among themselves, the group exchanged uneasy glances. Sora let out another soft chirp, his tail flicking nervously. Why does this always happen to me? he thought, his feathers ruffling. Can't I just have a normal day for once?

  The situation seems to escalate but a strong wind is heard the trolls stopped what they are doing and bowed down on the alter. The trolls turned their attention back to the group, their hostility replaced by an almost reverent deference.

  The strong wind that had swept through the clearing seemed to have settled the situation, and the trolls now regarded the group with a strange mix of respect and curiosity.

  The head troll, the one with the bone necklace, stepped forward again, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "We apologize. You be the dark lord'z guestz. What you need?"

  Creed let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as he lowered his hands. The rest of the group, however, was still blinking in unison, their confusion evident. Fiara's battle stance was slightly dropped, her sharp eyes darting between the trolls and Creed. Muta scratched his head, his tusks twitching in bewilderment. Mikalien, ever the curious one, was practically vibrating with excitement, her mind racing to understand what had just happened.

  Sora, meanwhile, let out a soft, relieved chirp, his feathers slowly settling back into place. Seems like no ones fighting, thats good.

  Creed stepped forward, his calm demeanor returning as he addressed the head troll. "Thank you. We're travelers trying to find a way off this floating island. We were told that your tribe might be able to help us."

  The head troll nodded solemnly, his large hands clasped together. "Yez, yez. Dark lord'z guestz. We take you to village. Elder will know what to do."

  With that, the trolls began to move, gesturing for the group to follow. The head troll led the way, his massive form parting the undergrowth with ease. The rest of the trolls fell in line behind him, their earlier hostility completely gone. The group exchanged hesitant glances but followed nonetheless, their weapons still at the ready—just in case.

  As they walked, Mikalien couldn't contain her curiosity. She sidled up to Creed, her voice a hushed whisper. "What just happened back there? Why did they suddenly change their tune?"

  Creed glanced at her, shaking his head a small smile playing on his lips. "They weren't worshiping a 'dark lord.' They were worshiping a wind spirit. My attunement to nature spirits let me sense it. The wind that swept through the clearing? That was the spirit. It must have communicated with them in some way, telling them we're not a threat."

  Sora looked curiosity a spirit? like the one Evan tries to talk weird things to during one of my family's daily DnD campaign.

  Mikalien, ever the optimist, clapped her hands together, her excitement returning. "This is amazing! Not only do we get to visit a troll village, but we might also learn more about their culture and their connection to the wind spirit—or, uh, 'dark lord.' This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

  Sora let out another soft chirp, his tail flicking nervously. I just hope they don't try to poke me like Mika did, he thought, his gaze darting between the trolls and the rest of the group.

  Muta, still looking a bit confused, shrugged and cracked his knuckles. "Well, if they're offering to help, I'm not gonna complain. Let's just hope this elder knows what he's doing."

  The head troll gestured for the group to follow him, and the other trolls fell in line behind them, their earlier hostility completely gone. As they walked through the dense forest toward the troll village, the group couldn't help but feel a sense of surrealism. The trolls, who had moments ago been ready to attack, were now acting as their guides, their deep voices occasionally breaking into low, rumbling laughter as they chatted among themselves.

  Creed walked at the front of the group, his sharp eyes scanning the path ahead. He couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement at the situation. A wind spirit mistaken for a dark god, he thought, shaking his head slightly. Only on a sky island.

  Sora let out another soft chirp, his tail flicking nervously. I just hope they don't try to poke me like Mika did, he thought, his gaze darting between the trolls and the rest of the group.

  Muta, still looking a bit confused, shrugged and cracked his knuckles. "Well, if they're offering to help, I'm not gonna complain. Let's just hope this elder knows what he's doing."

  The head troll gestured for the group to follow him, and the other trolls fell in line behind them, their earlier hostility completely gone. As they walked through the dense forest toward the troll village, the group couldn't help but feel a sense of surrealism. The trolls, who had moments ago been ready to attack, were now acting as their guides, their deep voices occasionally breaking into low, rumbling laughter as they chatted among themselves.

  Creed walked at the front of the group, his sharp eyes scanning the path ahead. He couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement at the situation. A wind spirit mistaken for a dark lord, he thought, shaking his head slightly. Only on a floating island.

  As they approached the troll village, the dense trees began to thin, revealing a collection of sturdy huts made from wood and stone. The village was nestled in a large clearing, with a central alter adorned with a fire pit and various tools and weapons scattered about. The trolls who weren't part of the earlier ritual looked up as the group entered, their expressions curious but not hostile.

  The head troll led them to the largest hut in the village, where an elderly troll with a long, gnarled staff stood waiting. His eyes were sharp and wise, and he regarded the group with a calm, appraising gaze.

  "Elder," the head troll said, bowing slightly. "Theze be the dark lord'z guestz. They need help getting down from the sky island."

  The elder troll nodded slowly, his gaze shifting to Creed and the others. "Ah, travelers," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "The dark lord has spoken. We will help you. But first, you must rest and eat. We have much to discuss."

  The group exchanged glances once more, their initial wariness giving way to a cautious sense of relief. Sora let out a soft chirp, his feathers finally settling as he realized they might actually make it off the island after all.

  As they were led to a large, communal area where food was being prepared, Mikalien couldn't contain her excitement. "This is incredible! We're about to have a cultural exchange with a troll village! Do you think they'll let me study their rituals? Or maybe their connection to the wind spirit? Oh, this is going to be so—"

  Fiara cut her off with a sharp look. "Mika, let's not push our luck. We're here to get off the island, not turn this into a research expedition."

  Mikalien pouted but nodded, though her eyes still sparkled with curiosity. Sora, meanwhile, let out a soft chirp, his tail flicking as he glanced around the village. At least they're not trying to poke me, he thought, his nerves finally beginning to settle.

  As the group sat down to eat and rest, the elder troll began to explain how they could help the travelers descend from the floating island. The wind spirit—or "dark lord," as the trolls called it—had apparently granted them safe passage, and the trolls were more than willing to assist.

  For the first time since they'd arrived on the island, the group felt a glimmer of hope. Despite the strange and unexpected twists, it seemed they might finally find a way home.

  <> ? <>

  The being chuckles watching the whole scene though it was a bit disappointed. "Oh I just wish they would fight there but that wind spirit stopped it."

  "Still it was nontheless hilarious."