It was almost dark. As Pari waded through knee-deep water, she heard the voices. Human voices, for sure. The sound came from up on top of the cliffs She couldn’t make out what the voices were shouting, but it sounded like commands.

She listened for a few more moments. Should she call out for help?

But then she saw the shapes being lowered down by rope. They were canoes. Two of them.

As they splashed down, Pari got a weird feeling—a feeling of dread. She silently slipped into the water and quietly swam away from the canoes as more ropes were lowered and men started to climb down.

She swam behind a large boulder and froze, with just the top of her head and her nose above the surface of the water.

There were six men. And they descended the ropes, two at a time, with military precision. It all happened very fast, with no wasted effort.

Who were these guys?

Pari decided to inspect them quickly, one after another.

:::::. Rod Marcino. (Warrior). Player, Level — .:::::

:::::. Ed Van Hester. (Battle Mage). Player, Level — .:::::

:::::. Joseph Weidlin. (Warrior). Player, Level — .:::::

:::::. Alastair Gromley. (Enchanter). Player, Level — .:::::

:::::. Thom Callahan. (Healer). Player, Level — .:::::

:::::. Francis O’Neil. (Scout). Player, Level — .:::::

They were all players, but their levels weren’t displayed. Very strange. She had never seen anything like that before.

She watched them climb into the canoes. Six very buff dudes in their 30s. All dressed in banded mail, bristling with weapons. They moved quickly. Again, with no wasted effort. No one struggled to get into a canoe. No one cracked a joke. Or complained.

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The first warrior, Marcino, barked out a question: “Do we have a fix on the island?”

O’Neil, the scout, said. “4.3 miles southwest.” It looked like he was wearing some sort of goggles.

“Supers, Grom?”

The enchanter said, “None that I can detect. Not yet, at least.”

“Okay, ladies. We need to make it to that island by dark. Blue Squadron, move out.”

With that, they started paddling straight out into the fog. Their ropes were left still hanging from the cliff.

Thank god.

It was tough, with the water steadily rising, but Pari forced herself to wait until she couldn’t see the men any more. Then she tied all her bags to the end of one of the ropes and then climbed up a bit. She made a loop on the other rope, fifteen feet from the end and then wriggled into it and fastened it around her waist. If she fell, this second rope might prevent her from hitting the ground. Or it might just cut her in half. Either way, it was better not to fall.

As she climbed, Pari told herself that it really wasn’t that far. Maybe the height of a telephone pole. No biggie, right? But halfway up her arm muscles were burning, and she was breathing really hard.

She cast vivify on herself and it seemed to help. Maybe it was just psychological, but she felt a rush of energy that helped propel her to the top of the cliff. Still, once she got to the top, she rolled over on her back and just rested there for a good ten minutes. Then she sat up and looked around.

The top of the cliffs were flat and made of the same chalky rock as the sides. The wind was much stronger up here and she was chilled from being wet. Beyond the cliffs to the east were scrubby bushes, gnarled and twisted from the constant ocean winds.

Pari crouched down and pulled up her bundle and then tossed the rope back down. No reason to alert those guys that someone had used their ropes. Then she made her way east into the bushes. The vegetation was sparse enough so that she could make good time and quickly hike away from the cliffs. She didn’t know who those players were, but she still had a bad feeling about them. It was better to put as much distance between her and them as possible.

Once she was a hundred yards away from the cliff, Pari found a decent-sized stick and tied some glowstones on the end of it. Instant torch.

Now she could move even quicker. She needed to make sure she was far away from this area in case those guys with the canoes decided to come back this way. She sucked at tracking, so there was no way she’d be able to find their trail, but she figured if she zig-zagged roughly northeast she might get far enough away.

Pari hiked for probably three or four hours until she couldn’t take another step. She needed sleep and at this point she didn’t care about anything else. Not the hardasses in the canoes. Not wandering monsters. Nothing. Pari knew that players had an exhaustion attribute that was tracked behind the scenes. If you didn’t rest regularly, you could really mess your toon up. And she was close to being messed up.

Luckily there was a large clump of bushes nearby. After probing them with her stick to make sure there were no snakes or other creepy crawlies around, she gathered her cloak around her and curled up in a ball. She was asleep within five minutes.