The settlent, a city of so sorts, maybe a town, was indeed extrely close. I was lucky that no guard or sentry ca to check after the gunshots.
There are tall wooden walls made of trunks. Not small trunks. Oak trunks, twice or three tis my waist. Maybe even more. And if that hadnt been a good hint of what was expecting on the other side, there was a small queue of people around the gate. Twenty or so people, and all of them way over two ters tall. The shortest must have been sowhere around two ters and a half. The tallest was almost an entire torso bigger.
Mon Dieu.
I had to force the French out of my head. When I tried speaking French, English ca out. If I wanted to say sothing in French, it was hard. I knew English, but not this well. Even my thoughts were Englishand it was like I had always spoken this language.
But the current problem at hand was that two half-giants were checking on the people, asking questions that I couldnt make out from this distance. They were slowly combing through the line and both guards had so weird stone in their hand.
Magic.
It was a simple deduction. If there are health potions, magic is a given. What fantasy world Im in? Are Dragons casually strolling around or are they just remoted tyrants? My knowledge of fantasy stories is not small. I hadnt played many gas when I was growing up, but my sister had. And Im not an idiot thats the most important thing.
Health potions, half-giants, glowing stones?
If I didnt accept the situation swiftly, the situation would swiftly overwhelm .
Adapt.
It was a tall order from how I survived among thieves and murderers. And more, how I never did ti while clawing my way to the top. I still regretted that I wouldnt be able to see the kind of panic and the new wave of money that was going to hit my fellow Parisiennes. Not even the military was going to stop my operation back on Earth. It was a hydra, ant to work even if I went in hiding, or died or went to another world, I guess.
I glanced at the woods behind and turned to be fully hidden around the tree.
Think.
What could be a problem at the gate?
Blood. Shaky backstory. The glowing stones?
Skills?
If I have gained a [Gunman] class, these people have classes as well? Lets assu so. And if the guards have [Guards] class, they have skills to reveal criminals.
Can I climb the wallsno. Too tall.
Look for a smaller village?
They could potentially be even harder to get through. People in small settlents are naturally suspicious of strangers especially the strangers covered in blood.
I could wear the spare clothes the hunter had, but
No, I can use my own blood as an excuse. I can use it as a credible backstory. I was attacked. Lets use that. The best lies are mixed with a lot of the truth.
No changing, then.
A Human? a booming voice asks.
Hello, I say with a contrived face, excuse , I have no idea where I am. I got lost after I was attacked.
Attacked? the huge half-giant, towering over , almost double my height, asks.
I was wounded pretty badly and I thought I had died. A health potion saved .
Lissius, the half-giant gestures toward his partner. We have a situation here, stop the queue.
Lady, please state your business the half-giant called Lissius, smaller than the titan on the other side asks before said titan could jab his shoulder.
She has been attacked. The truth-stone confird it.
Cordius, you know that theres procedure for
Cordius waves away Lissius.
Shut up, he booms. Ill take care of this. Just sign the papers when I send them down.
I followed the rapid exchange with my shoulders tensed. They are eyeing the blood on my top with suspicion, but the glowing stone flashed blue. And that apparently ans that Im telling the truth.
Cordius, a giant of sowhere around three ters tall, seed inclined to let in without any questions. He said he was going to take care of . Are half-giants trustworthy? Are their skulls too thick for a bullet to go through? Should I aim for the throat? Would a potion heal that?
Shes covered in blood! Lissius protests.
Her blood, Lissius.
Cordius puts a huge hand around my arm and gently pushes forward, not letting go.
Co with , Cordius says.
Ive been brought to an office built for soone almost twice the size of a human. I had to hop on the chair that was as tall as my hip.
We dont get many Humans, here. We barely get any other race, Cordius says while moving a stick around the walls. He goes to every wall and briefly touches it with the stick he took out of his magic bag.
Cordius moves like a man sure of himself, a man who carries more than his acquaintances give him credit for. Hes relaxed, but attentive enough to keep an eye on at all tis. The half-giant struts like a lion eting a hyena, proud and sure of the hierarchy.
The laws of the jungle are not easy to change, indeed.
What surprises is how this man is reacting. Ive t policen. Killed a few, even. And this man doesnt behave like a policeman, but more like a boss.
I look for signs, hints, anything that could give an edge over this man. But I cant help but stare at the most interesting tract in this room - the huge windows. While he brought here, I peered around and even if these people are giants, they still have larger than usual windows. More interestingly, even, roofs have entire sections made of translucent glass. Whoever half-giants are, they seem to share a connection with the sky.
Goblins have tattoos but cant rember their origin. We inherited glass and iron from our ancestors, and we have been taught to always look up since ti immorial.
Ti grinds everything to dust. Even stories can only survive to a point before dying and laying as sand at our feet, I murmur.
If I hadnt already checked your class, Id think you were a [Bard].
Is that normal?
Can people just see others classes?
Cassandre, Cordius says while sitting on his tall chair and opening a register, not a common na. Not one I can place, at least. Are you from Teiko, perhaps?
Happy to be unique, I smile cheekily.
Not Teiko, then?
I try to keep my face relaxed to give as little away as possible.
Not Teiko, I say.
And not Carilia, either. You dont seem to know where you are. And you are not a [Spy].
Cordius drums his huge fingers on his table.
Lady Cassandre, would you mind telling what a gun is?
My calves and thighs are tensing up, ready to run. This is bad. They know guns? Nothe class. He can see my class.
Just a tal weapon, I say, conscious that this man could be using a truth stone.
How dangerous of a weapon? Is it sothing from the Yin State?
Quite dangerous, and no.
Quite dangerousinteresting. You approach a half-giant city far from any Human settlent, have no idea where you are, have a strange class, covered in blood, and you make my danger evaluation skill scream as if you were a level 35 [Swordmaster]. Now, now. Isnt that interesting?
Im sure well see each other around, Cordius says after having personally taken care of my docunts. He also brought to a cheap and safe inn where I can stay on my own.
After a few more questions, he simply stared at for a few minutes. We both examined each other, staring straight into the others eyes. No one made a move or blinked; it reminded of the ga my sister asked to play. She always said I had scary eyes, but that playing such a ga with would make her feel more of an adultolder. And whatever made her feel better, that was all that mattered to .
I ignore the gazes that are shot around in the inn. Im used to them in other forms, and their still just drying eyeballs, nothing more. These ones are just bigger.
I tell the [Innkeeper] that Cordius recomnded this place to , to see if that is going to score so points for . Yes, [Innkeeper], another thing that exists. Not just the weird concept of an innkeeper, but the [Innkeeper] part.
Focus.
I shouldnt let stupid thoughts distract in such a dire situation. I have no general idea where I am, no reference apart from a few hints scattered here and there.
Im not dead.
Im in a new world.
Simpler minds would be distracted by such a grand realization, by such a cruel fate. Separated from my enemiesthey have been saved by my leave. Shall my heritage live long and disseminate panic throughout Paris for as long as corrupted minds will govern.
But I am not stupid.
I take a look at my room upstairs, filled with furnitures of the right sizethe [Innkeeper] has a couple of rooms for non-half-giants.
Im not stupid.
My first order of business is not resting. I slept enough before the [Hunter] could find . And I have more important matters to attend to. Currently, my knowledge about this world is non-existent. I need more information, and I probably need money as well. The pittance I found in the [Hunter]s pouch can last weeks, maybe a little more than a month. How do I know? I looked at the hanging board with the prices marked onto it with yellow chalk. If I could cook for myself, I could maybe go two months. But I am not my father, and I do not intend to waste my ti among breads and cakes.
I go out on the street, drowned in a cacophony of sounds belonging to the mid-day traffic. The haggling of [rchants] at every corner looks more desperate than resourceful, and the few wares I see on the stalls around, however enlarged they are, look diocre. Theres an overall decadence in this city, a lack of energy. I dont know magic, but this place doesnt sll like, doesnt taste like it.
Poverty.
Poverty is a plague that affects the entire world; in so places, like Paris, its just a symptom that there are many rich people. In others, like here, where you cant find any contrast, its the herald of a dying city.
If I could have chosen my own class, [rchant of Death] would have made for a good title. Thats what people who deal with guns are, even though most dont have the honesty to admit as much to themselves and the others. I never cared for it. Death has always been the only God I flirted with, the only glimr of divinity in the gray world that raised .
I take a deep breath.
Im being overly dramatic while looking at a city that could simply be a bit poor. But my guts rarely lie to ; and here, I look at isolated people who have very little despite the large ans afforded by their size.
Theres a story here, a great story. A tragic one. Sothing that reeks of rot and resentnt, a grudge. And where anger breeds, theres opportunity, theres desperate people ready to do anything to survive, to escape the diocrity that haunts them.
I taste the misery on my tongue while licking my teeth, like a snake looking for blood.
This city might need Cassandre El Maddouri as much as I need them.
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