The problem with killing Wulvers was that, aside from their lupine heads, they were completely human. Their battle cries could only be made by human throats, and they gasped the same way anyone would when Lux's daggers pierced their torsos. The death blow itself sounded with a juicy thump, like a dowel going through a watermelon. Lance had an uncomfortable feeling that the sound effect was based on actual research. Altogether they had bagged fifteen. The last one was a female,and she collapsed at their feet,blood pulsing from her wounds. Lance hated killing the females. Even while dying, the wolf headed girls looked really good in their buckskin leggings and vests,and he felt like the lowest of the low as he looted their glittering corpses. He as much to lux before the ambush, but she just laughed at him. A Wulver was a MOB: a mobile non-playable character. What's more,it was a hostile mob: born to be killed. According to the quest's narrative, Wulvers were infesting the hill towns of the Borders and terrorizing the farmers and shepherds. The Border Patrol had to put a bounty on their heads. Anyone who turned in twelve collars would get a reward from Sergeant Broughampton: five silvers and a chain mail cloak that gave +5 to strength. With a reward like that,how could killing then be wrong? Lux had been harping about that cloak for the past hour, and when she realized they had finally killed (and even exceeded) their quota,she cheered once in her shrill thin voice,then took off. Lance tried to follow her, but the hills were steep,and after three weeks of playing, he still wasn't great at maneuvering. Lux had no problem zigzagging up the slopes,but lance always managed to choose routes that were impossible to scale, and all he did was run in place like an idiot. Within thirty seconds lux was completely out of sight. Lance typed a message,fingers flying over the keyboard. It appeared as blue-letter party chat in the lower left corner of his screen.
Lance says: Lost! Where are you?
Lux says: Stay put. Be there in a sec.
A lone zombie sorcerer wouldn't survive long in such a heavily patrolled area. He was sure to be attacked, and his cloth armor couldn't deflect many direct strikes. Lux, a hobgoblin brigand, wore chain mail that could take a lot of pounding. Ideally, she'd make herself the monster's primary target,and lance would cast his spells from a distance, out of harms way. If lux couldn't hold the aggro, they'd die pretty quickly.
