The mist hung thick over the beach, muffling the crash of the waves and swallowing even the faintest hint of sunlight. The adventurers stood in a loose circle, each one still on edge after the voice's cryptic message. The sand beneath their boots was damp and coarse, the air heavy with salt. For a moment, the only sound was the distant call of gulls circling overhead.
Sylas Eryndor adjusted his robes, muttering under his breath. "This is madness. Plucked from my temple without warning, forced to consort with strangers, and now thrust into some divine trial. Talos, give me strength."
Valric smirked as he twirled one of his daggers between his fingers. "You know, for a servant of the might Storm Lord, you complain an awful lot. Maybe we should start calling you Saint Sylas of Whining Winds."
Sylas's sharp gaze snapped to him. "Watch your tongue, rogue, or I'll summon a storm to drown you where you stand."
"Oh no, not a storm," Valric said, feigning terror. "Anything but that. What's next? Lightning bolts? A very stern gust of wind?"
Crimjaw let out a booming laugh, his golden scales catching the faint light filtering through the mist. "I like this guy," he said, clapping Valric on the back hard enough to make the rogue stumble. "Finally, someone who doesn't take life so seriously. You could learn a thing or two from him, elf."
"I don't need lessons in levity from a walking furnace," Sylas shot back, his tone icy.
"Enough," Lockjaw growled, his deep voice cutting through the tension. The black-scaled ranger's golden eyes scanned the misty horizon. "You hear that?"
The others fell silent, straining their ears. At first, there was nothing but the rhythmic crash of waves. Then, faintly, came the sound of guttural voices—low, rasping, and inhuman. The mist swirled, and shadows began to take shape along the shoreline.
"Great," Valric muttered, drawing his second dagger. "Company already. And here I thought we'd have time to bond."
"Shut up and get ready," Lockjaw said, unslinging his bow. "Sahuagin."
"What's a sahuagin?" Crimjaw asked, hefting his massive maul.
"Sea devils," Masell said quietly, stepping forward. His violet eyes glowed faintly as he gripped his holy symbol. "Savage creatures. They worship the depths and kill anything that crosses their path."
"Perfect," Sylas said dryly, rolling his shoulders. "Let's hope they're as easy to kill as they sound."
The sahuagin emerged from the mist, their grotesque forms illuminated by the pale light. They stood hunched and menacing, their scaly skin glistening with seawater. Each carried rusted weapons—tridents, spears, and nets-and their dead, fish-like eyes glinted with malice.
There were five of them.
The leader, a hulking brute with a jagged scar running down its face, let out a guttural hiss raised its trident, pointing it toward the adventurers. The others responded with a chorus of snarls, their webbed feet slapping against the wet sand as they charged.
"Well, looks like we're not talking our way out of this one," Valric said, stepping back into a defensive stance.
Crimjaw roared with excitement, his golden scales glinting. "Finally, a fight! I was starting to think this island was just a tourist trap."
"Focus, brother," Lockjaw said sharply. He nocked an arrow and loosed it in one smooth motion. The projectile whistled through the air and struck one of the sahuagin square in the chest. The creature let out a shriek, stumbling backward before collapsing onto the sand, blood pooling beneath it.
"One down," Lockjaw muttered.
The remaining sahuagin didn't falter. They surged forward, weapons raised, their guttural cries echoing across the beach. Crimjaw met them head-on, swinging his maul with wild abandon. The weapon connected with a sickening crunch, sending one sahuagin flying. Its body landed in a heap; its head twisted at an unnatural angle.
"Two down!" Crimjaw bellowed, his laughter booming like thunder.
Sylas stepped forward, his hands crackling with divine energy. "Enough of this," he said, his voice commanding. He raised his holy symbol and called out, "Talos, hear my prayer! Smite these wretches with your fury!"
A bolt of lightning arced from the sky, striking one of the sahuagin. The creature convulsed violently before collapsing in a smoking heap. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.
"Three," Sylas said smugly, brushing sand from his robes.
"Show-off," Valric muttered, darting past him. The rogue moved like a shadow, his daggers glinting as he weaved between the remaining sahuagin. He slashed at one's leg, then plunged his blade into its throat. Blood sprayed across the sand as the creature gurgled and fell.
"Four," Valric said with a grin, wiping his blade on his sleeve. "Look like I'm winning."
The final sahuagin hesitated, glancing between its fallen comrades and the adventurers. Then it turned and began to flee, its webbed feet kicking up sand as it scrambled toward the water.
"Oh no, you don't," Lockjaw growled. He raised his bow, but before he could fire, Masell stepped forward. The Twilight Domain cleric's eyes glowed a deep purple as he raised his hand, his voice a low chant.
"Your escape is denied."
A spectral arrow of radiant energy shot forth from his hand, striking the fleeing sahuagin in the back. The creature let out a strangled cry before collapsing face-first into the surf.
"Five," Masell said quietly, lowering his hand.
The beach fell silent once more, save for the crash of the waves and the labored breathing of the adventurers. The bodies of the sahuagin lay scattered across the sand, their blood mingling with the seawater.
"Well," Valric said, sheathing his daggers. "That was fun. Who's up for round two?"
Crimjaw laughed, clapping Valric on the back. "I like your style, human. You've got guts."
"And you've got a big hammer," Valric said, glancing at the massive maul. "Compensating for something?"
Crimjaw blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh, I like you even more now!"
"Enough," Sylas said, his tone icy. "This isn't a game. We were attacked, and we barely know what we're up against."
"He's right," Lockjaw said, his voice calm but firm. "The voice said this island is a trial. If these sahuagin are the least of our problems, we need to be prepared."
Masell knelt beside one of the fallen sahuagin, his expression unreadable. "Their weapons are crude, but their tactics are not. They attacked like a pack. Whoever—or whatever—rules this island may be watching us."
Sylas frowned, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Then let them watch. Talos will see us through."
Valric snorted. "Right. Let's just hope your storm god's watching when we're up to our necks in whatever horrors this place has waiting for us."
Lockjaw ignored the bickering and knelt beside one of the sahuagin corpses. He inspected its trident, then pulled something from its belt-a waterlogged piece of parchment. He unrolled it carefully, revealing what appeared to be a crude map. Faded ink marked several locations on the island, with two symbols standing out above the rest: a blue heart and a glowing white one.
"Looks like we've got a lead," Lockjaw said, holding up the map. "This might point us to the artifacts."
Sylas stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Let me see that."
Lockjaw handed him the map, and Sylas studied it intently. "This is ancient. The symbols… they match the descriptions of the Heart of the Ocean and the Heart of Aether. If this map is accurate, it could lead us straight to them."
"Great," Valric said. "So, we follow the map, find the shiny magical doodads, and get the hell off this island. Easy."
"Nothing about this will be easy," Masell said quietly. "This island is alive. It watches us. It waits. The voice said as much."
"Yeah, well, let it watch," Crimjaw said, hefting his maul. "If anything, else tries to stop us, we'll send it back to whatever hole it crawled out of."
Sylas sighed, tucking the map into his robes. "If we're going to survive this, we need to work together. That means no more reckless behavior."
Crimjaw grinned. "What's the fun in that?"
The adventurers exchanged glances, the tension in the air slowly dissipating, but Sylas held firm.
"Listen, we'll have our moments of levity later," he said, his voice steady. "For now, we need to decide on our next move. The map points deeper into the island, but we should proceed with caution."
"Caution is boring," Valric quipped, but he nodded, recognizing the seriousness of the situation. "Let's at least get off this beach. I'd rather face whatever lurks in the jungle than spend another minute on this cursed sand."
"Agreed," Lockjaw said, scanning the area for threats. "We should move quickly. The sahuagin won't be the only dangers on this island."