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The Grand Pilgrimage shadowed the very same route that the Ancient Heroes of Yore traveled in their quest to bring order to the savage, menu-less world.
It started, of course, in Riverglen. Hometown of Calaf, and long ago, a small village that was home to the Ancient Heroes of Yore. It was at the most-holy cloister just south of town that the old heroes had been blessed with the Menu. And it was in the Riverglen sewers that the heroes perfected their skills with the Interface.
The heroes’ hometown had no doubt benefited greatly from their holy crusade. Sewers that once were swarming with rats had been tamed, of course. Early good deeds performed by the grace of the Menu had cleared out the dire-scorpions from a nearby cavern, driving their foul kind to extinction in these lands. The Cleric and The Scout had introduced the concept of crop rotation to the subsistence dirt farms of the hinterlands, allowing the fertile river valley to support increasingly larger populations. Why, legend had it that the first Paladin, then just a lowly Shielder, even rescued the village alderman’s daughter from bandits.
In short: the Ancient Heroes of Yore had, in a few weeks, solved basically every problem preventing their minor, beleaguered hovel from succeeding. And as they left their hometown, they tamed all the wild ravenous beasts of the field and local bandit, dire-scorpion, and goblin populations with the inheritable Brand of the Menu, ensuring they would conform to the constraints of the Holy Menu forevermore. And so, the area around Riverglen had been constrained to threats no higher than a level eight boar or bandit group for centuries.
Well, until this very afternoon.
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Calaf stood at the north gate. Now fortified with the preponderance of the city watch. A horde of particularly beefy looking wild hogs awaited outside.
Name:
Wild Dire-Boar (x25)
Title:
Big Pig, Beast.
Level:
16
Status:
36/36 (Slovenly)
A wall of guards with level 20 shields, so hefty they could only be held two-handed at this stat distribution, maintained the line. They held, even as the full force of twenty-five slovenly dire-boars pushed against them, slobbering hungrily. Just waiting to break into Riverglen and make a beeline for the local nursery and orphanage, no doubt!
“Push them back!” cried a guard captain, himself only level nineteen.
Deacon approached the line of shields. With deft control of the Interface as befitting a member of the church of some renown, he cast:
Spell:
Holy and Foolproof Pigsbane
Effect:
Deals 1,298 holy damage to any porcine enemy on the field. (75% base chance, scales with Effect Hit Rate)
Description:
Kills. Pigs. Dead.
There was a flash of off-pink light emerging from a catalyst in the deacon’s left hand.
With 75% base chance, thereabouts 19 of the rabid beasts should have dropped dead. Deacon must have been possessing a prodigious effect hit rate, as twenty-four pigs dropped dead. One last very confused boar remained, to be speared down by some enterprising guards.
Experience points were evenly distributed between the deacon and the dozens of guards who’d been grappling with the beasts.
Calaf stood, gazing down the long road north. At one point it had been but a simple goat path. Church maintenance crews had widened the path in the intervening century or two. And of course, the constant flow of pilgrims during peak season kept the path level and well-tread.
“Nervous?” asked the deacon.
“No.” Calaf shook his head.
He’d traveled the pilgrim’s path before, at least part of the way, a few years back. Can hardly call yourself a faithful adherent of the Most Holy Menu if you don’t make it until at least Deepwood. Monsters there were stronger than even these wild boars, but the sheer number of pilgrims provided a great deal of safety; meant there was always a higher-level adherent along the path.
Still, this pilgrimage was of the utmost importance. And they were off-season. And he’d likely have to combat these higher-level creatures and level up in the Interface. Might even catch up to his beloved Charlotte’s level by the time he returned to Riverglen. Calaf thought of how different things would be if he returned at level twenty, or even thirty. Rat Kings would be felled in a single blow. Indeed, his most holy posting would perhaps be beneath him.
But he’d have to survive this journey first. To that effect, he did have Deacon to ensure he remained healed. And Gorman, too, was there, a few levels higher. Surely, he could take a hit or two.
Party gathered, Calaf took one last look at his stats and inventory before heading forth:
Name:
Calaf, Wayfarer
Rank:
Sanctioned Arbiter of the Church, The Most Holy Church of the Menu
Level:
7
Status:
18/18 (Healthy)
Items:
Sentry’s Spear (Level 6)
Plain Kite Shield (Level 7)
Iron Banded Guard’s Mail (Level 4)
He would level up soon. Even one battle would do it – if he’d arrived just a bit sooner, he could’ve taken a swing at a pig or two to finish that task off. No matter. The journey was only just beginning.
Calaf took a step forward, down the familiar pilgrim’s road. Gorman carried a pack with most of their rations in addition to his standard issue guard equipment. With the way the Menu’s weight restrictions worked it was best to pool the rations together.
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Every convert memorized the itinerary of the Grand Pilgrimage. It was an essential part of church education, taught to every school child.
From Riverglen, the Ancient Heroes of Yore marched north, shadowing the river. This continued until they reached a natural chokepoint at Granite Pass. A small trading post sat there now, second major station on the pilgrimage.
A great gate, dating back to some far time in the distant past, controlled access to a high plateau, where the heroes achieved level sixteen before continuing onward.
These highlands start out arid, but gradually give way to a great alpine forest. Here, carved into the very trees, is Deepwood. A church library sits here in the grandest hollowed-out tree, home to the Wall of Converts.
From there the itinerary pointed pilgrims onward until they reached Twelthnight. A small and cozy hovel, this represented where the old heroes managed to camp after exactly one fortnight plus or minus a few days of travel. Most pilgrims made it there much faster though. Why, such a settlement simply wouldn’t exist were it not for the benevolence of the church.
Only the particularly devout or those with a church-sanctioned mission typically continued onward past this point. The route only grew more dangerous. But for those wishing to travel the heroes’ path, the church fully funded and sanctioned more devout worshippers in their climb up the path. It never hurt to have a backlog of faithful in the level 40-60 range, after all.
Those of unwavering faith carried onward along a gradually sloping plateau to Plains Junction. A fairly central trading post that funneled pilgrims north-south, and funneled goods and resources from the periphery onto the pilgrimage route where it belonged.
From there, the pilgrim’s path sloped down and went due east towards a fertile river delta. Something of Riverglen’s sister city, this region held a majority of the world’s population under the Menu.
Another long route skirting the river cut across at a grand bridge, then broke off through a gap in some mountains well before the river reached its headwaters. There, pilgrims should be leveled enough to brave the high desert to the next station – Firefield. It’s said even the ancient heroes nearly perished in this desolate abode.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
And yet, under the Menu, Firefield and even more dangerous areas further north have become bustling centers where pilgrims frequently emulate the many side activities the old heroes did to prepare for the increased challenge ahead.
At the edge of the desert another, more temperate forest awaited. This was Autumn’s Redoubt, where the Ancient Heroes of Yore wintered in a microclimate of eternal Fall. The Menu was so efficient now, the pilgrimage route starting so early in the year, and Pilgrims so adept at retracing the heroes’ footsteps, that nobody ever had to winter there any longer.
The path went only ever-upward from that point on. Up a steep, nigh-impenetrable mountain range and through mines and caverns to a high plateau containing The Olde Capital. A walled city, mostly ruins now, that represented the decadent order of an older, Menuless world.
The outer plateau continued onward until it reached the silted-over headwaters of some ancient riverbed or another. This was the Fellmarsh. Only the truly faithful dared venture further along the pilgrimage path. True to its name, the Fellmarsh produced no small number of casualties every year.
Beyond all that, the swamp’s outskirts prowled by horrible beasts that skirted the level one hundred range, was the last resting place of a two-hundred-foot-tall demon king. Slain by the legendary heroes. The bones of the old lord still littered the plain at Demon Lord’s Fall, his corrupting influence leaking out from the very soil even today. It was a good thing all the church higher-ups resided directly on top of the corpse in the First Cathedral of the Most Holy Interface, preventing this foul contamination from spreading further. If the demon lord ever did rise again, all the top-level faithful that made up the bishops and cardinals of the church would be there to put him back in the ground.
There was no original route back to the start of the pilgrimage at Riverglen, for the original heroes willingly chose to stand vigil over the slain demon king, forming the basis of what would become the renowned and benevolent church.
Such was the full and unabridged list of stations on the Grand Pilgrimage Itinerary. Their level ranges were thus:
Name:
Level Range
Description
Riverglen
Lvl 1-8 (Currently 8-16)
Idyllic Rolling Hills and Walled Starter Town
Granite Pass
Lvl 4-16
Minor Mountain Pass
Deepwood
Lvl 14-23
Clerical Town Amid Alpine Forest
Twelthnight
Lvl 24-30
Edge of the Woods, Camp at Fortnight junction.
Plains Junction.
Lvl 23-33
Trading Town on The High Plains
Delta
Lvl 25-46.
Fertile River Delta, Full of Opportunity
Firefield
Lvl 48-56
High Desert. Dearth of Supplies, Bountiful Situations for Powerleveling.
Autumn’s Redoubt
Lvl 50-60.
Eternal Fall. Generally the highest level area a layperson would dare tread.
The Olde Capital
Lvl 58-75
Abandoned ruins of an older, more savage age.
High Plateau
Lvl 72-85
Plains Around the Olde Capital
Fellmarsh
Lvl 88-95
A deadly marsh.
First Church of the Menu (Demon Lord’s Fall)
Lvl 96-100.
Seat of all church power. Also a font of leaking eldritch evil.
The goodwill of the church helped regulate the levels of various threats. Where once any old beast could be a threat to even the most powerful knight if caught unawares, now they were properly cataloged and maintained at a level appropriate for their region. Such had it been since the fall of the Demon Lord.
The late unpleasantness had thrown Riverglen’s level ranges off of course. But hopefully, they could reach Granite Pass before any reliquary thefts could cause any Interface-related problems as well. With the blessing of the Menu on their side, they could put a stop to Jelena’s crimes before any further damage could be caused.
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The rolling foothills turned more numerous and more jagged as the trio ventured north.
Few traveled the Pilgrimage Road at this time of year. But at peak season, this road would have been an endless line of devout and faithful between here and Twelthnight, at least. Indeed, even with the current emergency there were few foes to encounter along the road. Until…
Calaf and Gorman walked around a bend, a great glacial boulder masking the view of the path ahead. Immediately thereafter, they discovered the site of a massacre. Carts were overturned, their supplies pilfered.
Object:
Pilgrim’s Cart
Items:
Half-Empty Potion Bottles x3
Broken Potion Bottles x32
Bundles of Torches x5
Pilfered Chests Bereft of Gold x6
Antidotes x2
Blood-Stained Pilgrim’s Itinerary x1
All holy items that the Heroes of Yore would have brought with them on this stage of the journey. With so much empty space there was no doubt there was supposed to be more food here that was pilfered. That would point to an attack by the newly beefed-up wild boars. But the potions and stolen gold, though, that was evidence of something far worse…
Strewn about the cart were the corpses.
Object:
Decayed Corpse
Status:
-5/15 (Rotted)
There were many others, all hovering between -3, still capable of preserving and consecrating, and -6, so decayed they were basically skeletons. This massacre had occurred some hours ago.
“Eyes up.” Gorman could be alert when the chips were truly down. “Someone comes.”
A trio of three figures approached.
Name:
Vicious Bandit (x3)
Rank:
Outlaw, The Most Holy Church of the Menu
Level:
16
Status:
34/34 (Buffed!)
The raiding party wore leather armor thereabouts level three. Sturdy, but not comparable to what a city guard would use. But their levels were buffed, the same as the beasts of the field. Their axes were level 2 – well under-leveled for their new, beefed-up forms. Still, they didn’t need the best equipment to massacre some low-level initiates none-the-wiser on the pilgrim’s path.
“For untold generations, your kind have kept our clans at a lowly level eight,” said the lead bandit. “But no longer. The Great Leveling is nigh! Now we shall overwhelm your pathetic city guard. And it is us who will level up, and you who will perish under the Menu!”
Gorman was two levels below this trio of bandits. Calaf was even more underleveled. Deacon, though, had a significant level advantage and access to a wide range of church-exclusive spells.
Deacon Casts: Holy Shield!
Effect: One Free Hit Is Blocked, Even If It's Ultima IX, the World Killer.
Deacon Casts: Lightning Buff!
Effect: Weapon Tips Imbued with Holy Lightning.
Deacon Casts: Lightning Spear!
Effect: Chuck a Lightning Bolt at the Nearest Bandit.
The lead bandit was struck by the bolt. His skeleton was displayed in x-ray amidst blinding light as he reeled backward. In the time it took Calaf to blink, the lead bandit’s health disintegrated down to -8/34. So dead he’d never be consecrated.
“Should even the odds.” Deacon heaved, out of breath.
All that stamina consumption left even the well-leveled church deacon winded.
Calaf’s speartip was glowing with holy lightning. It was a buff that lasted prohibitively shortly, maybe forty-five seconds max.
He would have to strike fast. He thrust at the nearest bandit, still cowed from the smiting of their leader.
Calaf Uses: Thrust
Effect: Stab the nearest target.
The bandit reeled back, bleeding health. 20/35 HP remained, most of that a result of the lightning buff.
Gorman whacked the third bandit with the flat of his spear. Empowered (and with a more reasonable level delta), the bandit was left with a mere 6/35 HP.
“Retreat!” the cowed bandit yelled, already running off into the field. He didn’t even try to return a hit on Gorman.
Gorman wasn’t done yet…
Special Technique: Thrown Spear
Effect: Chuck Your Spear at An Enemy (Not Recommended Mid-Fight!)
The spear impaled the bandit in the back. -4/35 HP. Deader than dead.
One last bandit remained. The one locking axe-to-spear with Calaf. The bandit gave Calaf a most unmenu-like shove. Once he was off balance, the bandit lunged:
Special Technique: Double Strike!
Effect: Attack Twice.
The bandit lunged first. There was a ‘plong!’ sound as the axe whiffed, ineffectual, off the holy aura that was shielding Calaf. That aura faded, and now the guard was vulnerable.
A second swing. Critical hit, the lowly axe rending Calaf’s armor.
HP: 6/18.
All that from a buffed bandit wielding woefully underleveled weaponry.
Just need… to beat this one. If I can off him, then any damage I take won’t matter…
Special Technique: Shield and Spike
Effect: Hide Behind Shield And Poke The Bastard (Significantly Ups Defense and Attacks Thrice)
The holy buff on his spear wasn’t gone yet. And it compounded with subsequent strikes. 14… 5… 1 HP. The bandit was almost gone!
Only, there was one more blow Calaf had to endure… the bandit raised his axe…
Deacon Casts: Fragment of the Holy Shield!
Effect: One Free Hit Is Blocked, But Only If It’s of Equivalent Strength to Fireaga IV or Below.
Another, diminished holy aura surrounded Calaf. It appeared Deacon wasn’t quite out of power yet. The bandit’s third strike whiffed off the aura, and Calaf struck with a standard spear thrust. The bandit fell, HP: 0/35.
Victory.
And the rewards:
Item Obtained:
Bandit Clan’s Sacred Ancestral War Banner x 1
Broken Bandit Axes x4
Gold x 150
Experience: 150xp
The gold, distributed three ways, was nothing special. The banner was for some quest they could turn in back at Riverglen in emulation of The Old Heroes Taming And Conversion Of The Bandit Clans. The bandit axes were used in crafting or somesuch. But the experience, even distributed 3 ways, was more than enough…
Calaf Leveled Up! Level: 9
Strength: 15 (+2)
Endurance: 19 (+4)
Agility: 12 (+1)
Intelligence: 10 (+1)
Charisma: 8 (+0)
Arcane: 5 (+0)
Luck: 18 (+3)
Not bad for random rolls. And having prevailed against higher-level enemies, he was nearly to level 10 already! Gorman, too, should be hitting level 15 on his next battle. The mere level 16 bandits were just a drop in the more experienced Deacon’s XP bank, however.
“Good work, my brothers-in-faith,” said Deacon. “Now, if you’ll allow me…”
The Deacon moved to each corpse in turn, finding those whose decay had not yet passed -5 HP and waving his seal over their Brand.
“May their bodies be preserved for future use,” said Deacon, solemnly.
For those whom consecration was too late, they would simply have to leave the corpses where they lay. It would make more sense to continue to Granite Pass, where the garrison ought to be sufficiently leveled to properly clean up this ruined caravan.
Even the bandits were consecrated, at least those whose bodies were not so utterly destroyed to make the act impossible. For their ancient ancestors were brought under the Menu’s sway with these heritable brands. And it was by the Brand that the church ensured these bandit clans remained level eight or below. Were it not for the recent misfortune, the bandits would’ve made easy prey for even the most neophyte of pilgrims and converts. Indeed, even these slovenly brigands served the Menu, and were bound by its Interface.
All proper consecrations performed; the trio set off down the pilgrim’s path. A little bit stronger. Still no sign of the outlaw Jelena and her vicious wildman pet.
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