*********************************************************************************************************"Ah, welcometh backeth to mine own f'rge, young Mel!" Grimsaw wiped the soot from his face and gave a dramatic sweeping bow.
"Long time no see!" The shop bell tinkled as Meliadol shut the door.
The store, as usual, was right on the borderline of being too hot, with the proximity of the forge and lack of windows. A thin line of sweat had already begun to form on his brow, but today Meliadol was feeling too good to be bothered by something so inconsequential.
His auctions had sold, he had leveled up, and he was about to get a huge weapon upgrade. Meliadol felt as if he had made real progress. The now crimson red scarf and hood he wore was proof enough of that.
"Wh're is thy teachest'r?"
"Bast isn't online right now. It's just me." Meliadol approached the counter, "I'm here to pick up my Legacy weapon."
Grimsaw picked up a cloth wrapped package about the size of a baseball bat and gently placed it on the counter, "Aye, t is done. Tis truly a shame Bast couldst not beest h're to seeth it though."
Meliadol didn't refute the blacksmith's words. But a part of him wanted to do this by himself. To stand on his own two feet. Despite his earlier words about not playing alone, he couldn't totally ignore the whispering in the darkest corner of his thoughts, that without his guildmates he was nothing.
It didn't help that he decided to read the forums recently and the thread of his guild stealing the boss from
If he was mentioned at all.
Meliadol opened up a trade window with the blacksmith, entering the correct amount of gold agreed upon. Grimsaw double checked it before nodding, depositing the package on his end. They both clicked accept and voila, it was done. Transaction complete.
He had his Legacy weapon.
Opening up his menu, Meliadol materialized the package from his inventory into his other hand. It was much lighter than what he thought it would be. He made as if to unwrap it, only to be stopped by Grimsaw, the heavy gloved hand eclipsing his own. Meliadol looked questionably up at the blacksmith.
"Tis not the stage for unsealing. Followeth me." Grimsaw pulled off his gloves and threw them on the counter.
Meliadol understood immediately, falling into step and following the larger man as he opened the backdoor leading to the massive training ground. The circular arena was as immaculate as it was before, the dirt neatly lined, slightly sloped toward a singular point in the center. It was hard to believe that he had been here only a week prior. Felt so long ago since he last stood on these grounds.
As they neared the center, Grimsaw equipped his armor, the blackened plate appearing from nowhere like a creeping mirage. Meliadol's pulse quickened as he stood before the blacksmith. There was something different in his demeanor. An unexpected tension, like the stolen moment before the pulling of a trigger.
Grimsaw walked up, his eyes blue, and a duel flag dropped.
Grimsaw challenges you to a level-synced duel!
Accept Decline
What? Why would he want a duel? This area was flagged for PvP. It wasn't needed to level sync…unless…
"Draweth thy weapon and prepareth thyself." Grimsaw's hefty war hammer materialized in his hands.
Meliadol looked into the man's eyes and what he saw made him hesitate, finger hovering over the accept button. There was no mercy within the depths of those grey orbs. Grimsaw was treating him seriously. This wasn't a training session. This wasn't just to test out his new weapon.
A part of him felt honored at the fact, but he couldn't shake the quiet voice that once again called to doubt his personal skill. Was his achievements actually his own? Bast wasn't here to tell him what to do and this would be his first actual fight with another player…
He had a litany of possible excuses. Even though Grimsaw would be level-syncing to match Meliadol's level, which would scale armor stats and skill damage as well, it wouldn't' take away the many class-specific skills he had earned through the levels, things like Meliadol's Electric Needle Trap, as well as skill points assigned in the skill tree. Grimsaw just had more to work with.
Meliadol didn't have the accumulated knowledge the blacksmith fielded.
He didn't even know Grimsaw's class.
He didn't…
Angrily, Meliadol pushed accept. It was just a duel. In the end, it didn't matter if he won or lost.
3,2,1…
The duel flag disappeared.
Grimsaw didn't move, standing with all the steadfastness of a mountain. It took a moment for Meliadol to realize the forgemaster was waiting for him to unwrap his Legacy. What an honorable guy.
His hand shaking despite himself, he freed the weapon from the trapping of cloth and string…
Given his proclivity for Heoh's daggers, he had expected something similar. But the weapon that lay bared before him was anything but. It was bigger than a standard dagger, yet not nearly to the extent of what could comfortably be called a short sword. The single edge was sharpened, pitched forward into the point, yet concave near the hilt. Even the handle was atypical, coming up and around, forming a pocket for the hand.
"Tis bas'd on the falcata." Grimsaw offered by way of explanation.
Meliadol had no idea what that was, but nodded anyway. He picked up the blade by the hilt, turning it this way and that, watching the light reflect off the wavy edge. It felt good in his hands, but there was a slight disappointment there as well.
He had wanted something similar to Heoh's daggers…
There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and it was only on instinct that Meliadol ducked as the war hammer went whizzing by his head, the sheer force of its passage ruffling his hair. Grimsaw rode the momentum, swinging the hammer up and then, with his second hand joining the first, into a savage downward chop.
Meliadol stumbled backwards in his haste to avoid the second attack and it was here that he fell into the forgemaster's trap. Even before Grimsaw's hammer cratered the ground, the blacksmith had let go of the handle with one hand, lowering his shoulder and driving it directly into Meliadol, sending the Thief sprawling face down onto the arena floor.
"Thee can doth bett'r than yond. To thy feet!" Grimsaw taunted, holding his hammer with two hands and thumping it hard on the ground, "What purpose is a weapon if 't be true thee useth not t?"
With his lost HP flashing briefly in the corner of his vision, Meliadol stood cautiously, watching Grimsaw the entire time. Since it hadn't been equipped, his legacy weapon had went flying during their brief exchange. With one wary eye on the forgemaster, Meliadol went over and picked it up, equipping the legacy weapon on his character screen.
The DPS was much higher than the sword Bast had gifted him, and he could instantly feel the power in stat gains. Meliadol gave the falcata an experimental swing. It felt better than he had hoped, lighter than his sword and made a satisfying slicing sound as it cut the air.
Perhaps it could grow on him.
This time he faced Grimsaw squarely, and with no further preamble, the two began to circle each other.
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