Thrashing the life out of him.

A garbled cry makes you stop in your tracks as you realize what's going on: the thrall going fully feral on the hapless elf player. "Stop! Please, anything, STOP!" you think he's saying, but the fact that he's missing a few teeth - and probably part of his jawbone - makes it hard to tell.

"What are you doing?!" You wring your hands as the one-sided brawl tumbles along the swampy ground, "You were supposed to beat him, not **** the guy!"

"Whoa, munchkin! Ya tryin' ta get yerself wasted?!" Before you can intervene you feel the thug's hand grab you by the shoulder and hoist you back with nearly minimal effort. "But - "

"Just look at her!" points the bandit, just as the thrall smashes her fist against the elf's throat. "No way yer getting anywhere near that." You try to disagree, but you can't find the words. The sheer fury exhibited by your other unlikely ally has left you speechless.

"...What do we do?" you ask dumbly when you find your voice.

"Hope that we don't have to clean up afterwards."

For the first time in a long while, you feel actually terrified. Getting endlessly defeated by players was one thing; you accepted that it came with the territory. Watching another player getting savaged by an NPC that probably isn't even midboss material is something else entirely.

"ARAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!" Raising her axe in the air, the thrall brings the weapon down on the screaming elf, silencing him with a skull-splitting strike. The two of you spectating wince visibly at this and take a step back. Instantly the elf corpse explodes into a shimmering display of light.

"What gives? I thought we were allowed to loot the player!" whispers the thug, unsure of how loud he could raise his voice.

"Must've been on Hardcore Mode," you reply in a hush. "Any player character created under those terms don't respawn. No item, no stats, they basically never existed as a player. Judging by how much of a braggart this one was, I can't say I'm surprised."

"Well, that was a bloody waste of time then wasn't it?" The bandit begins to grumble, but swiftly shuts up as the thrall pushes herself upwards and glares back at both of you, her eyes a murderous crimson while blood, spittle and muck drips off her face.

"Double fuck buckets. Now what?"

Your arms droop to the sides. It was nice while it lasted, you think glumly to yourself, when the unexpected happens.

"N-ngh!" As though undergoing a seizure, the thrall twitches before sparks of energy abruptly dance across her body. She goes into a brief convulsion and falls to the ground with barely a whimper, as more sparks surround her.

"What now?!"

"I can't be sure, but... it can't be!" Dashing to her side, you bring up the thrall's stats, "It is! She's used her Bludgeon skill too many times. Her MP is in the negative!"

"Negative?! That even possible? How the hell do ya use a skill without the MP to use it?!"

"No idea. But it's something passed down as a part of magic-user lore. Any character that goes into negative MP risks getting permanently deleted," you reply tersely, going through your pilfered inventory. "There's a story about a legendary wizard who summoned a meteor storm without sufficient MP to do it. He succeeded, but the sheer exertion exhausted his life ****."

"And that's what's happening here?!"

"I'm not waiting to find that out!" Fumbling, you finally grab a Mana Potion, smashing the vial against the half-elf's hardened troll skin. As the liquid sinks past her epidermis, the intensifying sparks buzz for a few more seconds before dissipating. You heave a sigh of relief you didn't realize you'd been holding.

"...Well, that's just great isn't it? Now we got two corpses and nothin' ta show fer it!" the thug finally says. You narrow your eyes at him, but he does have a point. "I mean, what did we - "

"Uuuuuugh..."

Warily the two of you glance back as the ground - rather unceremoniously - spits out two more bodies. You can almost swear you heard a "burp" sound effect played somewhere, but more of note are the absolute mess of two female players deposited onto the swamp floor. Of course - you'd forgotten about the other pair while fearing for your life. You and the thug walk towards them, only to recoil in revulsion at the sight of two half-denuded ladies covered in oozing vagina leeches, splattered annelid juices, female ambrosia and muck.

"I always say," Rynna declares, her eyes rolled upwards and her tongue extended in a lazy loll, "That elfin breastmilk always tastes better with bleached orc armpit hair. In an undersea cavern on April the 31st."

"Oooooh, hee hee hee! Sylvanis! I had no idea you felt that way," Duranda giggles sheepishly. Her fingers linger around her exposed crotch, and they're not the only things that are moving.

"..." You glance at the thug, and you exchange similar expressions of disgust. Any mood you might have had earlier about boinking more defeated players has been undoubtedly, irreparably ruined. Instantly the two of you decide what to do.

"I'll take her gear, you grab the other one," the two of you simultaneously say, gingerly tiptoeing to the two near-comatose girls. As quickly as you can you slip off their armor, weapons and items, fortunately (or unfortunately) made easier by the mess of lubricant drenching their bodies. You salvage what you can, and at a silently agreed signal you kick both ladies at the side of their heads. At once the protective circles of respawning surround them, teleporting them into the sky and checkpoints beyond.

"Okay, now I know ya lost yer mind."

"Quit grumbling and keep moving!" you hiss. It's the best you can manage with over a hundred pounds of half-troll, half-elf slung over your small shoulders. "If another group of players catch us like this I don't know if we can handle them. The least we can do is search for temporary shelter."

"In the fucking drider nests? Fuck me, I thought the last few plans were bonkers as is, but ya just love trying to prove me wrong, don't ya? Oof!" The thug grunts, staggering under the weight of paladin armor and assorted weapons. "Oh, fuck this shit! I knew we shoulda left the extra load behind!"

"I haven't had a good look at them yet, but it's true we probably can't equip those," you admit. "Then again, maybe we can find some way to put them to - "

"I wasn't talking about the fucking armor, all right?"

You pause. "What did you say?"

"Ya heard me! Didja see how she was going at that smug bastard? And the way she looked at us?!" growls the thug. "You, I can stand. What I can't stand is having someone who flips switches at the sight of an enemy and turns them into fucking mulch! She's going to get us all killed, one way or another!"

"She's the one who got us this far," you point out candidly. "You know, the trap and everything?"

"Oh, right. The whole thing about me jumping in and saving ya from that staff chick had absolutely nothing to do with it. And that was yer plan, dumbfuck! Remember?! Oh, dammit," swears the thug as the ex-priest's staff thumps on the grass. "Maybe if ya didn't have yer head shoved up little miss greyskin's ass, ya'd come up with a better plan next time!"

"What."

"Ya heard me, ya little sex deviant! Ya think I didn't see yer undressing her ass with those beady little munchkin eyes of - "

"We are not having this conversation," you snap gruffly, as best as your squeaky gnome voice allows. "What we need to do now is stay alive."

"Slippin' rippin' dang fang rotten zarg barg a ding dong," comes the grumbling reply, and no more is exchanged between the two of you. Following the path lined with dried, faded webs you eventually come across what looks like a cross between a massive anthill and catacombs, random lines of cavernous tunnels dug into a somewhat-moundlike structure.

"Guess this one looks unoccupied," you say hopefully, picking one of the lower openings.

"It'd better be." You trudge into the hole, walking just enough to see half of the daylight vanish behind a curve in the cavern, laying the thrall gently against the walls.

"So," you mutter quietly, "What now?"

"Yer asking the wrong sap, munchkin," heaves the thug, carelessly dumping your combined stash on the ground with a jangling series of clatters. "...I need some time alone."

"Wait! Where are you going?!"

"Away for a while!" he snaps. "Try not to fuck shit up when I'm gone."

You raise your arms in protest, but he's already out of the cave, and you slump against the rock dejectedly.

"Excuse me." Your blood chills as you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, silken and sinister. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything..."