“Neutral player names will appear blue to each other. Friends are green. Party members are gold, with the party leader appearing purple. A player who has killed another player outside a safe zone will appear orange, acquiring a debuff that will allow the killed player to challenge them at any time, lifting the level suppression penalty.”— Annwyn Online Players’ Guide

The wilds beyond Araedi. Day 02.

Sinnamon and Weaver had made it just in time to see a familiar figure in a white coat with two rapiers. Of all the people in the world, it had to be him. Krait.

Sparrow had her bow trained on the Sword Saint as he pulled his Caer Fragment from his bag. The system that stopped higher level players from picking on lower level players wouldn’t protect him now since had started the fight against their party. It was an advantage they intended to capitalize on.

Two players disappeared, leaving only Krait, a Sentinel named Chunky, and a man in mage robes too far to see his name.

“Now!” Weaver bellowed to Sparrow.

The Ranger let loose her arrow and Weaver leapt from their cover. At the same time, Sinnamon dropped two buffs on Weaver in rapid succession. Talaria’s Blessing, which increased his movement speed and jump distance and Tual’s Whetstone, which increased his damage while outnumbered.

Weaver flew across the distance in only two leaps and tackled Krait as he tried to pull Sparrow’s arrow from his leg. Chunky cast a taunt spell, pulling Weaver’ from Krait, but Sinnamon had anticipated it. She started to cast a rooting spell, Ran’s Net, when suddenly there was pain in her chest.

Sinnamon gasped and ducked behind the tree she had been using for cover. An arrow stuck through her ribs, narrowly missing her heart. A bed of flowers sprouted beneath Sinnamon and green healing magic pulsed around her, but her health didn’t stop falling.

“You have to pull the arrow out or I can’t heal you!” AnnaLee shouted inside Sinnamon’s head.

All of her medical training screamed at her not to do that. What if the arrow had severed an artery? Leaving it alone might be the only thing keeping her from bleeding out.

No, that wasn’t the case now, another voice at the back of Sinnamon’s head said. She couldn’t die. She had to pull it out.

Sinnamon sucked in a deep breath and pulled the arrow. White hot pain seared her chest anew, but the arrow didn’t come out. A barbed arrow? Sinnamon cursed and cast a strength enhancing spell on herself.

She sucked in another breath and pulled. Flesh came free with the arrow, but the wound began to heal near instantly. Vicious-looking hooks stuck through the bits of Sinnamon’s own blood and flesh. What kind of a monster uses arrows like these?

Sinnamon threw the arrow to the ground. “Did anyone see where that arrow came from?”

No one had an answer.

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Sinnamon thought for a moment, then remembered another of her spells. She cast Euryphaessa’s Gaze on Sparrow.

“I’m going to peek around again, watch for the arrow,” Sinnamon readied herself, pushed her head out, then immediately pulled back.

An arrow struck the tree with a loud thwack!

“I saw it! I saw it!” Sparrow shouted, then switched to their party chat. “I can see the path it took! There’s another player hiding behind a rock way, way ahead of us.”

A fourth person. That answered the question. “Can you get somewhere where you can keep that archer busy? Neither Anna nor I can support Weaver while we’re pinned.”

“I got it!” Sparrow said before disappearing. An excited “whoo!” came from Sparrow before calling out, “I got her! You’re good, Sinnamon!”

Sinnamon looked up. An arrow went well wide of her, followed by another cheer from Sparrow.

“Good work, Sparrow! Keep it up!” Sinnamon turned to the fight between Weaver, Krait, and the Sentinel Chunky.

Krait was pinned to a tree by… were those his own swords sticking through his hands and arms? Sinnamon couldn’t help but smile at Weaver’s ingenuity.

Weaver, however, was locked in a fight with Chunky. Sinnamon readied a spell when a great wall of flame washed over the two tanks and flowed towards her. Their damage was stopped only by a well placed barrier of protection from AnnaLee. She was standing behind Sinnamon, her hand trailing the faint green mist of healing magic as she flashed a thumbs up.

The mage, a Sorcerer, had joined in the fray. He was taking pot shots at Weaver and though he had a high health pool, well over ninety-thousand, it had already been halved. Sinnamon wasn’t a high enough level to unlock Svalinn’s Divine Protection, and so couldn’t boost his resistance to fire. She and JonJon would have to work like Sparrow to keep their mage busy.

Sinnamon looked around for JonJon and saw he was hard at work putting out the fires with his water magic. Guess that just leaves me.

Sinnamon ran forward, took an arrow for her trouble, and began casting Hyldemoer’s Curse on the tree beside their Sorcerer, whom she saw was named Spenser.

She paused in her casting, remembering something Saiph had told her about target priority when fighting. Deal with the DPS first, stall the tanks.

The branches around the tree bent down and wrapped themselves tightly around Chunky’s arms and legs. A smaller branch wrapped itself around his mouth, suppressing his ability to use any spells, skills, or abilities for a time.

Weaver focused his full attention on Spenser. He began pummelling the Sorcerer with his stone gauntlets and savaged his health bar.

Sparrow cried out before her location changed to Caer Siddi on Sinnamon’s HUD. “I’m sorry guys, she got me!”

Arrows suddenly rained down on Weaver, sticking out of him like needles in a pin cushion. AnnaLee was dumping her mana into healing and shielding him, but the enemy Ranger’s high attack speed and damage output was too much for the low level Druid to keep up with.

“Stop healing me!” Weaver strained over party chat. Black tendrils of smoke seeped from the wounds all over Weaver’s body. The smoke thickened, changing Weaver’s skin to the blackest black Sinnamon had ever seen.

The flurry of arrows suddenly stopped as the Ranger must have realized what was happening. She was too late, the stacking bleed effect from her arrows pushed Weaver over the edge.

Berserker’s Last Stand triggered at the exact moment Hyldemoer’s Curse elapsed on the Sentinel Chunky. He moved to ram his sword into the ground, but he was too slow. Weaver roared a bestial roar that feared both Chunky and Spenser as he became shrouded in the Berserker’s Rage.

Chunky had dropped his sword and Weaver picked it up. He was a blur of movement and slashed at Spenser with Chunky’s sword until he was nothing more than a glowing purple orb waiting to respawn or be revived. Weaver turned to Chunky and snarled.