Blind Man's Pass, etched like a scar into the granite flank of the Grand Rise, stands as a testament to the ambitions of the first Everlasting Flame. It is an at least three-day trial of altitude and cliff, a relentless crawl through chasms and caverns that bite the sky and tunnel deep under the rock. Icy winds howl through dark gorges, then spit you out into blinding daylight, the world below crumpled like a forgotten tapestry.
This is not merely a path; it is a crucible, where every step is a pact with gravity, a gamble that promises the abyss. It is a gateway to the Highlands, a test of worth, and a tale waiting to be etched in the annals of the brave. The historians sing of the first ascent, led by the ever-ambitious Everlasting Flame. White ravens, their harsh caw echoing through the shadowed fissure, whisper of hidden caves, sanctuaries of knowledge carved by giants long forgotten. Legends murmur of griffins perched on needle-thin peaks, their eyes pools of molten gold, guarding treasures older than time. And in the deepest caverns, rumors stir of creatures born of shadow and ice, their whispers promises of oblivion.
As travel using the Great Lift is now the preferred method of traversing the Great Rise mountains for the wealthy, Blind Man's Pass has been neglected by the authorities in recent years, it is rarely patrolled and is more dangerous than ever. Thus, only those with a great need and little means, even attempt.