"I was looking forward to a nice pie."
"But then, we didn't die, did we? The pie can wait."
"Why don't you sit down, Tempest?" One said, patting a rock.
"You can see us, that's the strangest thing."
"Seems like we're being told to talk to him. Even Dominus couldn't see us."
"But he could feel us. We needed him like he needed us."
"Now you sit down, Tempest," they said, cooing. They patted a rock, and with a sigh, Oliver said down, facing the river, and the corpse of the Troll.
They clambered up onto the rocks next to him. With hands far larger than they ought to have been for his body, one gently tried to pry the sword away from him. "Why don't you let us take a little look at this, eh, Tempest?"
"We won't be long."
"I don't know what you intend to do with it…" Oliver said reluctantly.
"Well, do we look strong enough to do anything against the likes of you?"
"We aren't really fighters… we don't like it so much. Our role is different."
"Everybody's got a role, me thinks."
