A pair, kinda a team.

"And there's a freakin' interguild raid going on, and I had to have one of the others agree to be my second! Me! Only the guild's strongest DPS character - unnngh!" Your ears twitch. Before the holographs disappear the shrill, angry voice of a woman can be heard, ranting with distinct authority and experience. Soon enough the owner steps out of the teleportation light: a human mercenary who evidently hasn't strayed too far from the generic character creation screen, her auburn hair cropped short and blue eyes furiously glaring backwards. The object of her anger is soon revealed: a blond elf dressed in flowing mage's robes, timidly clutching onto his hewed oak staff while he morosely looks at the ground. "Oh, for the - will you get it in gear?!"

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I'm still trying to get used to the controls, and..."

"Goddammit, I told you! Drag and left-click to move the camera and right-click to move!" The mercenary drags a palm painfully down her face. "I don't believe this! All you had to do was read a freakin' manual! Or a player wiki! But nooooo, you had to beg me to show you the ropes, didn't you? And of course you had to go and pick an advanced class, like the dumb fuck I know you are, didn't you?!"

"I just..." The mage quivers. "I just wanted to - "

"Enough! I don't need to hear your endless sniveling. We'll just finish this quest, and move on until you at LEAST get a decent attack spell." Grumbling to herself, the merc thunders forward with her **** ally scurrying behind. "Ugh, fuck this level limit nonsense. What kind of vet would even grind in a place like this? But nooooo, of course they had to enforce a Level 5 threshold and **** me to make a stupid alt to - aha!"

"...!" It's your ally's turn to blanch, as the sword lady points at him. "Aw, fuck buckets..."

"Ahhh, I remember you. Man this takes me back. I'm going to enjoy hunting you and your chucklefuck buddies," she sneers, before turning to the mage. "Now this should be easy enough for you. Thugs like these are weak to fire, so just cast your Fire Orb and it'll be over in a heartbea - "

"Wait, what key activates the Spell Menu again?"

"There is no Spell Menu! It's already mapped to your - "

"Oh, fuck no! I'm not sitting around to get my ass roasted!" Muttering, the thug turns and flees, headed towards you. Just as you figured.

"The hell? Thugs can actually escape now?!"

"What do we - "

"After him, dumbass! You can't leave until the quest is over or your ass gets handed to you!"

You watch as the bandit speeds along the dirt road, relying on his innate speed to get away, but it's clearly not enough; despite her otherwise average stats the mercenary begins closing the distance, step by step. Or she would, if not for the mage trailing behind. Every few steps, she turns her head back to yell at her companion, and the distance between her and the hooligan fluctuates around a rough constant. Good enough, you reckon, watching just as the thug runs past you.

"Come on! I told you!" yells the swordswoman. "Right-click to..."

"Haaaa!"

"What the fu - ?!" The alt player turns, but it's too late. You throw your free hand forward, crimson sparks slamming into her face. The merc staggers back, her legs rendered unsteady from the **** of Exhaust, and you seize the chance to swing in a hammer strike right at her clavicle. With a clatter her sword goes flying out of her hand, landing a feet or two away as you likewise make your landing, hands pulsing from the recoil. The barbarian was one thing, but mercs tended to have a higher defense owing to their balanced build, and this one doesn't look like she's going down easy, even with the slowing effects of your spell. Heaving your breath, you see the Gritsheim thug having doubled back, looking at you in surprise.

"Get the other guy!" you manage to squeak, before the merc aims a cleave right for your neck. You manage to turn, matching your limited speed with hers as she catches you in a lock, pushing your diminutive frame against the dust. The thug makes a growling expression before acceding to you. Where'd the mage go? you briefly wonder, but as you feel the handle of your weapon against your neck, you know you've got bigger problems.

"Heheheh. Didn't think you noobs were starting to ambush players, but it's not gonna work on me!" sneers the merc. "I'm going to make you wish you never did that." She raises her sword, bloodlust in her gaze as she hollers, "Decapitate!"

You raise a hand in reflex. Nothing. All you can see is the mercenary with her sword raised over her head with two hands, frozen in position until she hits the epiphany.

"...Oh, fuuuuck," she whimpers. "Alt account."

You reward her skills of observation with a hammer to the stomach. Under the damage and slowness, the merc falls to the ground as you assume the dominant position on her chest, pressing the weight of your hammer down on her sword. It's all she can do to stop you slamming another hit to her skull.

"Aaaaaah! Bethany, heeeelp!" The panicked shriek of the elf mage (notably higher-pitched for a male, elf or mage, you note) tears your attention briefly away. How did your ally do? You see spellcaster make an attempt at running, hindered by his traditional garb, before seizing up in a gagging motion. "Blurp!" he groans, bringing a hand to his mouth as his face turns green.

"Use your fire, you imbecile!" screams the girl. "USE YOUR FUCKING FIRE - "

"That's enough out of you!" Making a final push, you feign a slide to strike her sword right where her hand grasps the handle. The tactic is sufficient to loose her grip on her weapon, and you finally knock her out of her misery with a smack on her temple. You watch her eyes glaze over, inwardly heaving a sigh.

"Oof!"

Looking up, you see the mage topple backwards into the **** body of his "mentor", out for the count just as she is. Just behind him, the Gritsheim thug smugly juggles a small pouch in one hand, the first of his ill-gotten gains. He nods at you, and just then you feel the renewed feeling of becoming stronger. You lick your lips, relishing the rush of statistics, which make them known to you.

You are now Level 5!
MP +3!
Magic Defense +2!
New Special Ability!
Dedication - Always active. While you have <25% total MP, your MP recovery rate is increased to 400% outside of battle for 30 seconds. In battle, you have a 50% chance of recovering MP equal to your 2dMDef every 5 seconds. (Affinity Penalty (Gnome) - your recovery rate is decreased to 150% out of battle, and recovery rate is decreased to every 10 seconds while in battle.)

Of course. Even after the game throws you a bone it still finds ways to have fun at your expense. You bite back a sigh and look at the Gritsheim thug, whose smile opens up to a wide, savage grin.

You are now Level 4!
Melee attack +2!
Agility +3!
New Special Ability!
Undermine - Always active. Any allied critical attack reduces target MAtk by 5%. (This skill's effects can't stack up to more than 15%.)

"Fuck. Ing. Awe. Some," intones the roughneck, taking a deep breath and exhaling in loud satisfaction. "I feel like a million coin! This leveling stuff is the shit!"

"Enjoy it while you still can. The way I see it, that was just the easy part. We'll probably have to fight tougher players before - " You pause at the sight of the thug undoing his pants. "...What do you think you're doing?"

"Me? Whaddya think I'm doing?" he smirks. "This is the first time I got me a stuck-up bitch like this. Ya bet I'm gonna make the best of it!"

"Best of it? Have you forgotten what our aim is here?! Getting upgrades! For you!" You wave your arms, "This is no time to get your dick wet! Who knows what your mucking about is going to do!"

"Hey, remember what ya said yaself? If she wakes up and runs me through, the worst that'll happen is me respawning, right?" grins the thug. "Besides, it's not like she's the only armed scrub around. All we gotta do is waste another one!"

"With weaker armor! If you don't pull her stuff off before she respawns at who knows where, you're going to be as feeble as before!"

"Fuck's sake, now look who's the one being a big pussy. This whole jumping scrubs thing and wasting them for fun and profit was your idea!" The bandit glares at you. "Look, I jumped two levels from this little encounter. I'm boning her, that much is certain. If ya wanna search the other guy for magic shit, be my guest."

You regard your colleague with a raised eyebrow as he goes to work on the mercenary, beginning to undo her lower clothing. To be fair, even in the default skin and despite her foul mouth, the mercenary did look somewhat attractive, and the blood in your lower area was already a little aroused by your skirmish with the barbarian. Still, if either player is holding onto anything of use, you only have so much time before their cooldowns expire...