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Rolling hills gradually gave way to taller, sharper foothills leading up to an arced mountain range separating Riverglen’s valley from the rest of the world. Upon crossing a bridge spanning a deep canyon over the river, the level of the enemies suddenly dropped down to level 4.
Calaf achieved level ten by the time they reached the bridge. Fairly well leveled for the region up to Granite Pass. Maybe too leveled, as the battles from that point onward were quite easy – and offered just paltry sums of experience for even a battle against six dire-pigeons.
Truly, Jelena’s relic thievery had damaged the level pacing of the entire pilgrimage route. They had to retrieve these relics soon, before the spring pilgrimage season picked up.
Even with the enhanced creatures of the Riverglen region, travel time to the south gates of Granite Pass only took about two and a half days. It was a much smaller settlement than Riverglen – maybe a few hundred souls in all – and built at the top of a narrow canyon cutting through a younger, wilder river that was in fact the same body of water that flowed placidly through the First Among Towns.
At any rate, the trio entered the south gates of Granite pass well before noon on their third day of travel.
“Welcome to Granite Pass!” said a level fourteen gate guard.
“Hail, good sir guard,” said Calaf. “What news do you have of the Pilgrim’s Path?”
“Welcome to Granite Pass!” the guard said again, then cleared his throat. “Ahem, sorry. I’ve been instructed to say that exactly once for every traveler who comes in from the south. You’re the first group to come through in a while.”
“There’s been a problem in Riverglen,” said Deacon. “One that risks interrupting the pilgrimage. We are on vital church business.”
“Oh, well, that sounds bad,” said the guard. “Above my level range. Uh, you can visit the gatehouse up north. That’s where the reliquary is located.”
“Thank you, good sir guard,” said Deacon, then blessed the guard with a shield spell.
“Thank you kindly,” said the guard, who then turned to Gorman. “Welcome to Granite Pass!”
Gorman scowled as they passed through the narrow mountainous valley, split in half by the river canyon, blocked on all sides by jagged mountains.
“Never did like this place,” said the gruff sewer sentry. “It’s all so… claustrophobic.”
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Calaf had visited Granite Pass once before, on his initiation pilgrimage. He’d been one of a long line of pilgrims along the road, stretching almost uninterrupted from glen to pass.
At the time, the young initiate hadn’t even classed into Shielder yet. Everything had felt new and exciting, and of course, he was but one of hundreds of like-minded pilgrims all participating in this great journey.
Now, some years later, Calaf couldn’t help but notice that there were more inns than houses in this quaint mountain pass. Indeed, it seemed like every four of five buildings were inns. Pilgrims had to stay somewhere. Here in the off-season finding rooms wouldn’t be a problem. In fact, many inns were shut down until the pilgrimage season got under full swing.
Deacon continued to the north gate – a straight shot through town – to investigate the holy reliquaries. Gorman went in search of lodging. And Calaf took the opportunity to go in search of a weaponsmith.
The first road on this side of the canyon provided a familiar sight: the shop where Calaf had purchased his first proper shield.
Ahms Armaments, said the sign. Under new management, said a smaller sign affixed to the bottom.
Calaf entered the blacksmith’s shop. Last time, he’d been greeted by Ahms, a wizened level 67 blacksmith. Now, he found a man thereabouts his age or younger.
Name:
Mister Smith
Rank:
Blacksmith, Most Holy Church of The Menu
Level
28
Status:
52/54 (Particularly Troublesome Hangnail)
Weapons:
Hammer, One-Handed.
“Greetings, I am Smith, the local Blacksmith,” said the smith.
“I can tell by your Menu designation. Hail, Smith… Smith,” Calaf began. “Mister Smith… last time I traveled the Pilgrim’s Path, there was a skilled weapon forger known as Ahms. Is he no longer in town?”
“Eh, Mister Smith is my father. Mister Ahms Smith Senior.” The smith selected his forge using the Interface, then selected a red-hot poker and input ‘stir’. “He’s retired. Went up the route to Firefield to research fancy ores. Left me the shop. Sorry about the introduction – lot of the newer pilgrims haven’t quite gotten the hang of the Menu yet.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The elder Smith was already level 67 – Firefield would be a relative breeze for him. But could this new younger Blacksmith Smith be up to the task?
“I have need of new equipment,” Calaf said. “I’ll be traveling along the route in a bit of an unorthodox fashion and cannot confirm when I may be coming up against monsters of higher than usual level ranges.”
It wasn’t quite a lie. But it certainly wouldn’t do to panic the laypeople with the full details of his quest.
“Hmmm. Yes, level 10, yes?” The blacksmith looked Calaf over. “And you’re still using iron, eh? Most newbies at least swap out whatever they got leaving Riverglen for pilfered bandit equipment.”
“This… is standard issue among the sewer guard,” Calaf said, oddly defensive. “It fulfils its role. But… more sturdy equipment is needed, is all.”
Gold gathered from various enemies along the road piled up from battle to battle. Any one fight was no major gain. But several days’ worth left Calaf positively lousy with coin. He could upgrade every bit of equipment with some funds to spare, really.
“Let me see your wares,” Calaf said.
Numerous steel weaponry and armor sets were on display – away from the forge, where Smith worked on creating new fine crafts. The Menu described the immaculate craftsmanship.
On a nearby display:
Item:
Steel Mail
Description:
Requirements: STR: 12, AGL: 10
+2 to all physical defenses.
Above the stall, hanging precariously:
Item:
Steel Spear
Description:
Requirements: STR: 8, AGL: 12
+4 to all piercing attacks.
And lastly, in the back:
Item:
Steel Kite Shield
Description:
Requirements: STR: 8, END: 10
Blocks 100% of Physical Damage (When Held Up Directly in Front of Incoming Threats).
Every item was a direct upgrade to his current kit. He bought the shield first – the most handy item for his class, of course. Then he upgraded his mail and then spear, in that order.
These items were just for display, of course. The blacksmith turned to the forge and consulted the Menu.
There was a soft hum of fire, the smith working physically to superheat metal just as much as he was buried into his own personal Interface. Combat alone was not the only way to level up under the Menu, though it did provide the most tangible results for a layperson. Smithing, crafting, artistry, and other more specialty professions were a perfectly viable, if slower, way to level up – though they did require a bit of natural skill at the craft as well.
Within thereabouts five minutes a fine Iron-Studded Steel Kite Shield was ready to go. Its base was still wood, but would block far more than his current shield.
A similar process produced mail to his specification, and…
Item:
Steel Spear +1
Description:
+5 to all piercing attacks.
“Ah, this does tend to happen every tenth forging,” Smith said. “Enjoy the bonus, on the house.”
Calaf felt the spear in his hands, and compared it to his current iron sentry’s spear. Yes, so much extra power for just .45 increase in weight. His movement even in the full set was yet unencumbered, and as his strength and endurance continued to level up in tandem it would grow only easier to wear.
What an amazing prodigy this new blacksmith must be, to produce a +1 spear of such fine craftsmanship, Yes, this extra attack value was the mark of a master smith in the making!
Each item was capped to level 9. They should last him quite a while. He used about 75% of his expected budget on the items, then sold off his current equipment to recoup a few costs.
Newly outfitted for the journey ahead, Calaf left the old smith’s abode and went searching for the north gate.
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The north gate was closed shut when he found it. A thick gate made of truly massive reddish tree trunks, imported from Deepwood far to the north. Despite being the off-season, there was a gaggle of pilgrims waiting at the gate. People who’d just managed to get to Granite Pass’s safe harbor before the natural order of things around Riverglen went haywire. Nobody would be traveling along the pilgrimage route so long as this gate was closed.
There was no sign of Deacon to be seen. But a guard was posted at a gatehouse, explaining the situation in a rote fashion to some annoyed, interrupted pilgrims. Calaf showed his menu designation to them. The moment they laid eyes on ‘Sanctioned Arbiter of the Church’ they let him right on through.
Buildings in Granit Pass were chiseled into the very stone. Some were hollowed out of very particular boulders, but this gatehouse was made out of the very rock wall that protected the pass from the elements and encroaching monsters.
Within this gatehouse was a series of stone steps and at the bottom of that was a basement. The reliquary.
It was a bit of common knowledge that Granite Pass wasn’t a particularly holy place as far as the Church of the Menu was concerned. Just the second town the Heroes of Yore happened to walk through on their journey and a fair enough place for pilgrims to load up on supplies after learning the ropes of the path and their Interfaces after Riverglen. This is to say that there wasn’t much church infrastructure in Granite Pass. Instead, there were a few church-trained guards and a dusty old reliquary that held the relics, blessed by Pryors from the other towns, that largely provided the church’s blessing to this land on, as they say, ‘autopilot’.
Deacon now stood in this reliquary.
A reliquary that was empty. Not a single relic on the walls.
“This is worse than we feared,” Deacon said.
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The guards at Granite Pass were usually shipped in from elsewhere. Which was to say they were relatively over-leveled for the region. Not much tended to phase them. But they also ran a rather lax ship.
“The garrison says that the relics were last confirmed to be in there at least two days ago,” Deacon said. “So, our relic thieves likely made a beeline for here just as soon as they completed their foul deeds in Riverglen. The guards insist they don’t often go in here because they ‘don’t’ want to accidentally break anything’ – fair enough. Though I do believe it’s high time the church assigns a proper Pryor to the pass…”
Deacon pondered this, hands on his chin.
“And the missing relics. Yes. That would explain the mess outside.”
Level 32 dire-tortoises slammed their shells against the heavy wooden north gate. Far higher level than anything that ought to have been within twenty miles of the pass. The combined might of the guard garrison, some particularly martial pilgrims, and a certain Deacon’s blessings could likely disperse the enemies and garner a great deal of XP for everyone. But it would be a tiresome affair, take potentially days, and at the end of it they’d simply be following the relic thieves and could easily fall into any other old trap.
The areas south of Granite Pass had not shown any change in monster behavior or level range. Which meant Jelena was intentionally blocking her back from pursuit.
Alternative routes would be required. Ones that did not necessarily conform to the Pilgrim’s Path.
“Where is Gorman?” Deacon asked after a while.
“Acquiring our lodging for the night,” Calaf said.
“Good. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.” Deacon made for the door. “I will reload on mana and return to you within the hour. Rest up. There may yet be a path that will bypass the pass and forests and get us further up the route, cutting Jelena off at the plains.
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