Murloc Shoal

The middle-aged blacksmith's eyes lit up at once.

The thing was, low-level gear really didn't make a blacksmith much money. Why? For one, it took a long time to make, and for another, the price was low and the materials were ordinary. A Guard Set earned him only one gold coin. After paying the other blacksmiths and apprentices, the whole deal brought in at most 300 gold.

But selling a set of high-end gear might earn him 300 gold all by itself!

So when he heard Gryan's words, the middle-aged blacksmith was overjoyed. He hurriedly asked, "So, Gryan, what kind of gear do you want? How about a Stormwind Royal Knight Captain Set? I usually sell it for 1,000 gold, but I'll let you have it for 800!"

Gryan's head, held high a moment before, drooped at once. The smile froze on his face, and he hurriedly waved his hands. "No, no! It looks good but isn't practical. What do you take me for, someone joining a parade? I'm going to war! Get me something useful!"

The middle-aged blacksmith muttered something, agreed, then turned around and hauled a box out of the storeroom. He set it on the table and said with some reluctance, "Things haven't been easy for you in Westfall. This set... 800 gold. Take it."

"What kind of junk are you trying to charge me 800 gold for..." Gryan brushed the dust off the box and yanked it open. The words died in his throat, and his eyes locked onto what was inside.

Shawn was slightly taken aback. He quickly cast Eye of Insight on the equipment in the box, only to find that it didn't work at all. The gear was at least blue-quality Rare equipment!

It took a long while before Gryan murmured, "Lightforge! This is Lightforge!"

Shawn took a deep breath when he heard that.

So the gear in the box was Lightforge!

Every class had a set of gear unique to it. These sets brought out the class's defining traits and enhanced its abilities to perfection. For example, mages had the Arcanist Set, priests the Vestments of the Devout, and rogues the Bloodfang Set.

Because these sets were so perfectly suited to their classes, they were widely recognized and sought after by high-level adventurers. Lightforge was one of them.

This was the first complete set for paladins. It had eight pieces: pauldrons, a breastplate, a helmet, greaves, boots, gauntlets, a belt, and bracers. It gleamed with golden light and was dazzling to behold.

It was a complete set of blue-quality Rare gear, all of it top-tier, every piece a rare work of art. The set as a whole was worth far more than a mere 800 gold.

And yet the middle-aged blacksmith was asking only 800 gold.

The old blacksmith's face grew wistful, tinged with regret. "Let's say it's for the people of Westfall. You should know, I once lived there myself. The old blacksmith in Moonbrook and I worked at the forge together. The miners in Deadmines and I drank together. I left my footprints on every farm, and I made a lot of their farming tools with my own hands..."

But all of that was in the past.

Westfall was now in chaos, its people destitute and its roads overrun with bandits.

And Gryan Stoutmantle was Westfall's anchor, its backbone, its hope.

Old Gryan bent down and lifted the Lightforge Set. A rare look of reverence appeared on his face. He was, after all, a paladin who believed in the Holy Light and justice. How could he suppress his excitement at seeing a set made specifically for paladins?

"You'll need a warhammer or a longsword, too," the middle-aged blacksmith said. "Which would you prefer?"

Old Gryan ran his hand over the Lightforge Set and murmured, "A longsword. I prefer those."

The middle-aged blacksmith brought a two-handed sword out of the storeroom and handed it to Old Gryan. "Truesilver Champion. It's made entirely of True Silver and Mithril, set with rubies, and infused with the breath of the wind. Wield it, and you'll be protected by a Holy Shield."

Another Blue Equipment item. It might not have been top-tier, but it was still the best of the best. The Truesilver Champion was probably worth even more than Shawn's Arcane Saint Staff.

Old Gryan set down the Lightforge Set and took the Truesilver Champion in both hands, his face alight with excitement. He ran his fingers over the blade, seeming to like it very much. But after a while, his expression suddenly changed. He glared at the middle-aged blacksmith and asked warily, "By the way, this two-handed sword is a piece of junk. You're not going to charge me too much for it, are you?"

The middle-aged blacksmith: "..."

Shawn: "..."

The blacksmith's apprentice: "..."

Shawn had no idea how much the two-handed sword cost. He simply couldn't stand Gryan Stoutmantle's shamelessness, so he left before Gryan and the middle-aged blacksmith could start haggling.

It was only then that Shawn got his first clear idea of how much high-end gear was worth. Thinking of his Dalaran Apprentice Robe and Kobold Shaman Wizard Staff, he could only smile wryly.

Those two common-quality white items probably weren't worth much...

Then Shawn found Old Saldean and asked about the price of leather and stone. He was left speechless. They cost far more than he had expected. Leather in particular was outrageously expensive—he simply couldn't afford it!

"So I still need to get my hands on some good stuff! Portal of Time and Space, here I come!"

A vast beach stretched before him, its soft sand reflecting the sunlight and gleaming brightly. Sand Crawlers raised their sharp pincers and scuttled about aggressively. Groups of murlocs—blue, green, and every color in between—gathered in little clusters, each far apart from the others.

Murloc Raiders, Murloc Tidehunters, Bluegill Warriors, Darkscale Oracles, Coldlight Seers, Murloc Tidecallers, Coldlight Oracles, Murloc Warleaders...

Well, looking as far as he could, he didn't see any Murloc Warleaders. They were too high-level.

This was an instance called "Murloc Shoal." Its clear condition was unknown, its time allowance was three hours, and its spatial allowance was a circle about two meters in diameter on the ground. There was no Novice Chest and no other benefits.

Shawn stood on a high point overlooking the shoal. One sweep of Eye of Insight revealed all the information.

"Murloc Tidehunter, challenge level 3."

"Murloc Raider, challenge level 3."

"Bluegill Warrior, challenge level 3."

"Darkscale Oracle, challenge level 3."

"Coldlight Seer, challenge level 4."

"Murloc Tidecaller, challenge level 3."

"Coldlight Oracle, challenge level 5."

Murlocs were a vast race with a long history. They had countless tribes, clans, and social roles. Even the murlocs themselves couldn't keep track of them all.

The rule of the food chain was that the larger a population was, the lower it tended to sit on the food chain—except for humans. Murlocs were numerous, but the average challenge level of their population was very low.

The murlocs listed above were all challenge level 3 to 5, but they were combat classes, equivalent to human warriors, mages, and paladins. In fact, most ordinary murlocs were only challenge level 1, the same as ordinary humans.

Those with a challenge level above 3 were in the minority.