Not long after, we welcome the addition of two Warriors, a Skirmisher, a Restorationist and a Ranger back from The First Step and gather together. Perhaps most important is the Restorationist's ability to occasionally apply additional healing over time to direct healing spells like Minor Succor, which also happens to be the only healing spell they know anyway.

Compared to Beacons, they're much more efficient at keeping a tank alive through prolonged engagements, but they're more specialised in pure healing and lack the Beacon's utility. Where a Beacon can respond to a situation with a Skill, a Restorationist would prefer things not come to that.

If I were to name a preference, however, I'd be hard-pressed to choose. Before their Spells diversify and they gain access to more Skills, there's little to differentiate them early on, and even then they perform around the same, as their main activity is direct healing with extra effects. I'd say Beacon slightly edges out, but that's definitely informed by a bias from my role as a physical combatant and the incremental replenishment of my Stamina every now and again.

As for the others, there's not much to say. They're exactly what they sound like they are, though as a former Warrior myself, I suppose I have the most familiarity with it, even if it's identity is 'generic physical damage dealer'. They're essentially just Fighter v2.0, to be less than charitable, but as I've already made clear, Common Classes aren't automatically bad, and being generically competent at a simple task is oftentimes all that's required to make something of yourself.

For better or worse, too much emphasis is placed on the idea that higher rarity is always preferable: If you decapitate a Dire Wolf it's going to die, regardless of how flashy the process of getting there was.

"What're you muttering about, Silver?" Angelus interrupts what I thought to be entirely internal grumbling as we start to set out towards the treeline.

"Just ruminating on the newly christened Steptakers," I answer truthfully, "And I suppose by extension the tendency for people to fixate on that which is 'cool' over that which is 'practical'."

"Nothing wrong with that," Angelus defends, "The saying goes that everyone is the hero of their own story, but most realise that's not the truth and yearn for something that'll make them stand out."

"Rather pessimistic of you," Grand joins in the conversation, "But I can get why you'd say that. I see a lot of people come to where I work looking to escape from their mundanity to become something fantastical, and quintessentially 'different' from themselves-"

He looks at me rather pointedly, "-Sometimes to their detriment. I know it's not really my place to pass judgment since in the end, I'm hardly different, am I? Sure as hell don't get to cast magic spells back home, do we?"

"As a fiction writer, I guess I'm in the same boat," Angelus chuckles, self-deprecating, "What do you do for a living, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Team Leader at an internet café licenced for VR," Grand shrugs, "Not exactly glamourous, but it pays pretty well for a job in the inner-city."

"Same one Jade works at," I add, "And the one I'm using to log in until the Guild takes off enough that I can afford my own equipment."

Angelus considers it, "Exactly how are you planning on making money off this, by the way?"

"For now, there's not a whole lot of money to be made," I grunt, "There's just not the population for it. Only made €100-ish off the strategy guides for Miner's Nightmare and Farmer's Secret. Not expecting much more before the information inevitably leaks."

"More than I expected, admittedly," he blinks, surprised, "I don't know why anyone would bother spending real money. Astral Reckoning is, for all intents and purposes, a financial and critical flop."

"How come you're all still playing, then?" Grand asks curiously, light vanishing as we walk beneath the canopy.

"Nothing better to do," Angelus shrugs nonchalantly, "Speaking personally, I'm not necessarily hating my time spent playing either, but if I were to play a melee class I'd probably induced into vomiting through frustration. I honestly don't know how you can stomach it, Silver."

"I adapt quickly," I throw out a vague excuse, "As for me, I'm hopeful that things will get better."

"An optimist, in this day and age? Call the authorities, we've located an endangered species," Grand grins, the smile lasting a second before faltering, "That can't be all there is to it, though, can it? I mean..."

He nudges me with his elbow, unwilling to directly mention my enervation in Reality in the presence of others.

"That's really all there is to it," I smile back helplessly.

"I almost hope it doesn't, to be completely honest," he shakes his head, guilty, "Somehow, I doubt having an excuse to continue playing would do you any favours."

"Spare me, please," I sigh, "I get enough flak for it from Jade. I'm well aware of what I'm doing."

It looks like Angelus has picked up on the subtext of what we're talking about, but to his credit, he seems to respect my decision enough to keep his peace on the subject rather than immediately pile on more well-meaning patronisation.

"Sorry, I don't mean to come off as preachy, but..." Grand trails off before giving up entirely, "Forget it. I don't think anything I could say would make a difference."

"I appreciate the concern, all the same," I laugh.

---

 

Dire Straight, Ujax Forest

Heading back through the sparser, rugged terrain of Dire Straight, the excitement generated by the additional Steptakers fades quickly, and a palpable edge to the tension comes to the fore, anxiety about the appearance of the next patrol intensifying. It's not really a question of 'if' a fight will break out, but 'when'.

It doesn't take long.

Reit sprints back to the group, having roamed ahead to spot out approaching packs of Dire Wolf. The look upon his face is that of abject horror, "We've got a big fuckin' problem! Two Beta-led Patrols headed this way!"

"Two?" I suck air through my teeth, feeling a bit of dread myself.

"And 30-ish regulars," Reit nods, his face pale from shock.

"Son of a bitch," the wyvernblood Skirmisher woman - whose name eludes me - curses under her breath.

The rest of Wolf Hunt turn immediately grim, some particularly haunted looks come out as bad memories surface, reminding them of what drove them to join Wolf Hunt in the first place.

I grit my teeth. There's definitely going to be some deaths because of this. Feeling the urgency, I scan the immediate area but find that the terrain isn't something we can exploit very well. Mr Fathom, a little more decisive, passes out rapid-fire orders to his subordinates to fortify our position as best as can be with the time and situation at hand.

Following suit, I join the left flank with Windy while the Skirmisher and Warriors handle the right. The rest of the party crowds in as much as they're able to. Ranged damage dealers on the outside and the more vulnerable healers stood atop a protruding rock to give them a better view of the battlefield in the centre, while the Trappers set down as many obstacles to the approaching horde as they can in the paltry time available.

"There's too many to prioritise the Betas! Clean out as many of the regular Dire Wolves as you can. Even if we take down one by focusing all our efforts on it, the other will still apply the intelligence buff to the remainder," I call out, then lower my voice, "Windy, you're on your own in the meantime. I won't be able to provide much assistance."

"Alright," Windy nods seriously, putting her helmet back on, stepping out ahead of us, sword & shield at the ready. By now, the approach of so many large beasts is becoming noticeable, like the ground itself is echoing their growling. In a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, I swear I see the vague silhouette of a man at the head of the pack heading our way. But upon further scrutiny, there appears to be nothing there.

My eyes narrow, a deep frown forming. I'm not betting on it being a coincidence. The senses can be tricked, but perhaps the greatest trick is instilling a person with doubt as to the veracity of what they observed.

While encountering two Beta-led patrols at once isn't impossible, their pathing makes that difficult, and there's no reason for them to be coming from opposite directions if it were natural. Windy may have an increased aggro radius from her Star Sign, The Drake, but not to this extreme.

I'm not that naïve.

Backpedalling a bit, I walk to Jade and whisper to her, "This smells like an ambush, keep an eye out for players not part of our group. Pass the word on to the others."

Though initially annoyed by my sudden presence, realisation dawns quickly after I mention an 'ambush', "Got it."

With a terse nod, I jog back to my position just behind Windy, trying not to make my scanning of the treeline for inconsistencies too obvious. Now that it's come to this, I don't believe they'll stop half-way, but I don't want to spook whoever is trying to kill us with a Baton Pull. As for who that person might be, I can come up with a few ideas.

Ten seconds until the wolves trigger the sonic mines - our last set. A necessary expense, now that we've come this far into our expedition.

I take a deep breath, and try to stay relaxed as I draw my blade, feet set apart and ready to charge in. 4 seconds left. No suspicious movement. If they plan to take personal action, they'll wait until we're in the thick of the fighting to take advantage.

"Right side, now!" Mr Fathom hollers, "...Left side...NOW!"

The chalkboard and nail screech of the mines detonating passes through us like an invisible clothesline. No less pleasant than the first, but I'm a little more resistant to it by now, even if it does send my brain rattling and dampen my sense of hearing, despite the distance. The Dire Wolves are, naturally, not prepared for it, their loping charge interrupted, they stumble to the ground stunned and whining in protest, writhing around in pain.

Activating Bull Rush, I speed towards the nearest of the small-fry. Windy follows behind with Interceptor, perhaps not the most appropriate time to be using an important cooldown, but the need to cull their numbers so urgently may necessitate wasting it for the sake of mobility. She badly needs a Skill that will allow her to close the distance without using that trick.

Annoyingly, each individual Dire Wolf is rather tough, so even if they've been knocked prone they have enough HP on average to survive multiple swings of my sword, even though my damage for my level is on the high end with the Lonnet's set equipped. Perhaps if I'd placed a greater emphasis on Strength earlier on it would be enough to kill them in two swings instead of four or five. But that's just not my style, so it could be considered a conscious limitation. Perhaps it would have been better to ignore Charisma, at that, but I'm not sure how much that's affected my progress so far either.

Distracted by my inner thoughts, I channel the frustration to a more productive end. One kill. Three kills. By the fourth, the pack at large has recovered, and aside from the Beta, locked down by Windy, I present an excellent target for the nearby Dire Wolves. Five total, the remainder were picked off by the ranged members of Truthseekers.

They growl at me, slobber dripping from their jowls in thick rivulets. The Beta howls, headbutting Windy out of the way and taking a nasty gash to it's scalp in recompense from the bite of her sword. I grit my teeth as they circle around me, a pair of arrows glides past harmlessly, and the target of an approaching Arcshot lunges forward at me, simultaneously dodging the projectile.

Pressured, but not afraid, I shift my waist and ram the pommel of my sword into the beast's snout. The force causes it to pivot mid-air, landing on it's back and skidding. I roughly chop into it's exposed belly, pulling back and moving out the way of a second wolf even as a third goes for my legs.

A Minor Ignite interrupts it's focus, giving me space to fend off the second wolf. Nonetheless, they don't let me off for long, another wolf coming in from my blind spot to try and tackle me to the ground. A little off-balance, I kick out at it and nearly stumble when the impact of my boot causes me to recoil away.

I'm not taking a great deal of damage throughout all this, but if it keeps up I'll have no Stamina left to fight back as they tear out my throat.

A prickling sensation at my back alerts me to the moment I've been waiting for, instincts honed after thirty years of training and live combat. I leap forward, vaulting the wolf in front of me, flooring it under my weight.

"Jeez, you've got eyes in the back of your head~" The playful voice of an Assassin in full Trophytaker's follows, two outstretched daggers retracting as he fades into opacity, kicking the ground to put distance between himself and the Dire Wolves. They're all firmly aggroed upon me instead.

"Giovanni. I had expected as much," I grunt, stabbing the prone wolf in the nape of it's neck, "I assume you're not out here for a leisurely stroll."

"While I do enjoy a brisk walk in the woods, I'm here for your head, rather than flowers," He spreads his arms theatrically.

Dealing with this psycho and all these wolves at the same time is genuine grounds for my first death since starting anew. Giovanni's well aware that in a straight fight I will crush him, and he definitely suspected that a standard ambush wouldn't catch me out, so instead, he created a situation that's to his advantage, where I can't move freely and neither can my allies.

I'd almost admire it if it weren't at my expense.

A Split Shot arcs over whistling through the air, aiming for the stationary, gloating Giovanni. Unfortunately, he seems to have been expecting it, and jumps out the way without even looking, "Not twice. Never twice."

I try not to roll my eyes.

The assassin approaches with erratic movements while I do my level-best to not be swarmed under by the wolves, evidently trying to throw off the aim and the others, who are in the process of being scattered by the rampaging second Dire Wolf Beta, several being sent flying as a poor unfortunate soul punches the Beta's snout from between it's jaws. A second assassin in Trophytaker's stands atop the Elite's back, their identity a mystery, but no doubt a colleague of Giovanni.

I don't have the freedom to deal with that, however. When I finally manage to kill off one of my assailants, Giovanni takes the chance to launch himself at me with great speed. A sickening laugh escapes him, ripe with anticipation and bloodlust, "DIE!"

Unperturbed, I activate Reaver's Tenacity, welcoming the attack head-on. He doesn't suspect a thing as he thrusts his daggers upward, aiming for the gap between my helmet and neck.

-160 damage taken.

"Wh-" his shock is cut short by my fist in his exposed gut, followed by a solid kick that forces him into a roll to avoid going prone.

To avoid being subject to an increased critical chance by allowing him to get his knives in my throat, I brought my armet-clad head down onto the daggers, basically headbutting them. A brute's counter, I'll admit, but effective.

"'The body is both weapon and a shield, as the need arises,'" I mutter, quoting a lesson from Lady Jannis, "'And stoutly crafted armour only enhances that simple truth.'"

Taking my sword back in both hands, I activate Brutal Strike and carve a whirlwind around myself, killing two wolves and missing a third.

"Boss!" Windy yelps as she's thrown into me by the Beta, bowling me over and trapping my leg under her weight as she groans, "So-...Sorry...ow..."

Not one to let an opportunity slip by, Giovanni rushes over, preparing to perform a coup de grace on my prone body.

Defending from this position is nigh impossible, and I can't leverage enough Strength to swing my sword either. I doubt he'll be able to kill me in one go, but I know that it's still going to sting like a bastard. Chuckling darkly, assured of victory, Giovanni's knives begin their descent-

"Peekaboo~" The tip of a dagger erupts from Giovanni's chest, accompanied by a feminine voice dripping with sadistic malice, "Did you forget about me?"

"-!" Giovanni tries to respond, but his voice is can't muster enough strength to leave his throat.

His body crumples to the ground as Windy finally removes herself from my leg, scrambling to stand as the heavy footfalls of the charging Beta close in. Looking up at the figure that appeared behind Giovanni, I don't know whether to be grateful or just as worried as before.

"Howdy," Olrica winks at me.