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At first light on the third day’s travel, Deacon met Gorman and Calaf at a small shrine built into the west-facing wall of Granite Pass.
“Oh, great Scout, do bless our journey off the path,” said Deacon. “First among trailblazers, who did recon the path north of Granite’s Pass. Let us discover new paths to let us fulfil the glorious mission of the Menu, in thine mercy.”
A cold stone visage of a man, features vaguely ambiguous, sat carved into the wall. The fast and nimble member of the Ancient Heroes of Yore. Stopping at this shrine before heading forth would grant a +2 to agility as well as bonuses to numerous movement-related subskills that operated in the background of the Interface and did not necessarily make themselves apparent on the stats page.
They would need a great deal of movement blessings to blaze the trail ahead.
Indeed, Deacon’s plan was to travel off-route, towards a settlement far from the Pilgrim’s Pass. Hence why they deigned to borrow the blessings of the Scout. Similar shrines existed for the Knight, the Cleric, and the Battlemage. In Granite Pass there were but minor shrines dug into the wall. But at most populated towns along the path of any consequence, they were truly grand shrines to the Ancient Heroes of Yore. Riverglen’s cathedral had entire wings for each hero. You could practically feel the blessings of each class just hanging in the air, as if the old heroes were always there observing future generations of faithful.
With a +12% to their movement speed and a blessing to all Agility and stealth-based modifiers, the trio of new heroes set forth. They traveled back south down the pilgrim’s path for a time, scoring a pittance of XP and gold from minor level 4 monsters yet unaffected by the great leveling fiasco.
No new pilgrims were seen crossing paths with Calaf’s group. Not unheard of in the off-season, but the leveling problems around Riverglen weren’t helping either.
“My fellows in the southern convent should be formulating an escort service through the Riverglen wilds,” said Deacon. “That will be a viable solution in the off-season, but only so long as the leveling issues with the local beasts do not grow worse with time.”
Calaf clenched his fists. How dare that Jelena lady disrupt the natural order of his hometown. How dare she make life so difficult for future waves of idealistic pilgrims and converts, merely wanting to follow the Ancient Heroes of Yore on the path of their holy crusade? Oh, it just made the level 10 sewer guard/wayfarer tremble with righteous fury. It was surprising that he hadn’t gotten a status effect on the Interface about it yet.
In time, Deacon led the trio west, off the beaten path down a dusty dirt trail. The land grew a bit more arid off the pilgrim’s path, as they blazed a new trail through the wilds. Within three hours of travel, they encountered their first beast that was unbranded by the Interface.
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A snarling lycanthrope of some form drooled, ravenous, blocking a narrow path between two piles of basalt. Likely equivalent to a level-20 dire-werekin, but for the first time in Calaf’s life, the Menu offered no guidance.
Name:
Title:
Level:
Status:
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Blank. All blank. Not like Jelena’s situation – this feral creature had never seen the blessings of the Menu.
“Be careful,” Deacon warned. “Unbranded creatures can vary in strength. There’s no telling whether it’s equivalent to a level twelve or level sixty until we engage.”
The beast was standing in the way. There really was no way around him, regardless. So the party brandished their spears (and holy catalyst, in Deacon’s case) and did battle.
Combat against an unbaptized foe wasn’t so different. The beast could engage in that dishonorable dodging, but for the most part the Menu’s holy interface still forced the battlefield to conform to its methods in a way that gave its blessed warriors an advantage.
For one, the feral monster had to rip and tear the old-fashioned way. It did not have access to the most-blessed critical hits. Neither did it have access to special techniques or skills. Truly, no un-blessed foe could ever hold out against one leveled under the menu for very long.
Calaf adopted his shield and spike technique. The were-beast raged, but could not get through the +2 to defense and increased poise of Calaf’s new steel-studded defense.
Another spear-thrust courtesy of Gorman left a gaping wound in the creature’s chest. But it was a particularly large lycan, and one bleeding wound did not discourage it.
Deacon mostly cast buffs upon the pair, keeping them shielded and maintain a constant sparkling holy lightning on the tips of their steel spears.
After several minutes of fierce fighting, the creature failed to take even a single sliver of HP from either of them (thanks to some steady shielding and barrier buffs courtesy of Deacon). The creature snarled, then looked for an exit. It broke off – another action not sanctioned by the menu – and attempted to escape up the rocky cliff at their flanks.
Deacon Casts: Paralyze!
33% Base Chance of Paralyzing Any Enemy Your Level or Below (or equivalent).
Great golden bolts surrounded the snarling creature, and it fell from its perch mid-climb. The lycan landed back on the dirt path with a thud, struggling against invisible binds.
“Okay, keep up your guard, we have no idea what these creatures are capable of.” Deacon approached the beast.
Calaf and Gorman flanked the cleric, spears ready. Deacon began to mutter a prayer in some ancient clerical language unintelligible in comparison with the common tongue.
Deacon Casts: Brand
Marks the Target’s Bloodline with The Brand of the Church.
The paralyzed beast grew still. A circular welt or tattoo with a single sharp mark going down vertically through the circle symbol appeared on the beast’s left claw. Pretty common place for it; same place where Calaf’s brand was located, in fact. Why, the creature could no longer break itself away from the Menu’s influence, not without taking its arm clean off.
Name:
Direlycan
Title:
Beast (Afflicted)
Level:
1
Status:
3/16 (Terrified and Woozy)
“Amen!” Deacon declared.
Calaf was quite surprised to have prevailed against the mighty beast. It must have been a level 25-equivalent before the great Branding spell brought it under the Menu’s grace, setting it to a proper starting level 1. But there would be no experience garnered from this beast. Deacon released his paralysis spell, and with a defeated whine the Direlycan ran off down the path and out of sight.
Any descendants of this newly-converted beast would themselves be registered under the Menu. Bound by the Interface. And so it would be with every future generation, forevermore. Why, given enough time this first registered dire-lycan would eventually spread to all future lycan generations until this entire region’s population was branded. That would take centuries though – proper missionary work would have to be done to convert every beast of the field in this off-pilgrimage region to the Menu.
If they stopped to brand every creature they ran across they’d never make it to Plains Junction, let alone ever catch up with Jelena. So they did in fact just start cutting down beasts in their way for the experience, in time. Experience varied, and there was no gold from creatures not yet converted. But it was more than enough for Calaf to gain yet more levels.
The next night was spent at camp in the field. Fire kept the unbranded away.
At the end of that fourth night’s travel, Calaf’s stats were as thus:
Calaf: Level 12
Strength: 18
Endurance: 21
Agility: 14
Intelligence: 10
Charisma: 8 (+0)
Arcane: 6
Luck: 21
Truly, the young guard did feel stronger under the menu. He felt his faith in its holy Interface growing with his increased strength.
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