As I followed these people through the slums, I half expected them to turn around and attempt to mug me. They definitely had a shady vibe, which was good. Anything but boredom was welcome.
"So… have you ever seen any shapeshifters?" Skins asked, before continuing without waiting for an answer, "We're amazing aren't we? I swear, I can play you a lot better once I get a good grasp on you. You just took me off guard with your empty gaze…like the one you're sending me right now!" he shuddered, "Gods you're creepy. Ace! The new guy creeps me out!"
"Skins, can you be a little less loud?" Ace politely requested without even turning around.
"Tell him to stop looking at me," Skins complained, "I swear he gets off on my unease!"
"You'll get used to him," Ace replied sounding used to those kinds of arguments. She smiled, "Here we are."
We had reached the slums' frontier. I now faced the walls I'd noticed when I fell. They were tall enough that my vessel couldn't see the summit. After a point, it pierced the clouds and continued from there.
The structure itself was composed of gray stone and granite, but it lacked bricks and mortar. The structure seemed perfectly sculpted with precision, in stark contrast with the filth-laden earth. All in all, rather unimpressive, especially compared to Gnhëryvybzró.
I remembered to gape and stare at it. "The first time I saw this, I had an expression just like yours…" Ace admitted, approaching the wall and pressing her bare palms against it.
"The walls circle the entire city and the bay," Ace continued before sending a glance at Skins, "Go find Mur and tell him to come to the Ebony Gate."
"You want to take him into the pathways?" the shapeshifter asked, sounding a little anxious. "Isn't it a bit early for that?" Ace said nothing, silently dismissing her teammate. "Well alright then," he quickly relented and bolted off.
"Come with me," she said as she marched along the wall, "I'll show you around."
"I suppose nobody's managed to climb over them?" I mused, walking next to her.
"Many have tried," Ace chuckled softly, "Some even attempted to fly over them. It never works. When they reach a certain height, lightning and strong winds are suddenly conjured up until they drop to the ground."
She absentmindedly knocked the stone. "Others have attempted to dig beneath them, but they go on underground as deeply as they rise above. Lastly, the most obstinate have tried to pierce and bring the walls down by force. After a while they grow so thick and hard tools break instead."
"So nobody's gotten past them?"
"Not quite. There are ways to get past them, and we'll be showing you soon enough." She locked eyes with me, her gaze suddenly grim and serious. "How does watching the walls make you feel?"
"Confined."
"The city of Crossroads is larger than France," Ace nodded, "But no matter how big, it remains a glorified birdcage all the same. Those walls will remind you every time you look up at the sky."
"How long have you been here?"
"Too long," she replied evasively and quickly dropped the subject, "Crossroads is a prison, except the warden is mad as a hatter. Tell me, since coming here have you seen any policemen? Any guards, or any sign of law enforcement?"
I shook my head, inviting Ace to continue her explanations. "Crossroads is a patchwork. People and creatures from countless places and eras are regularly tossed here. They don't share the same culture, the same ideas, and until someone developed a translation spell, they didn't even share the same language. The closest thing to a government would be the various factions."
"Well, someone must have tried to establish order," I pointed out."With as many people Lazarus has probably grabbed, I can't see no one standing up to try."
"You're right. Once in a while, someone tries, but it never sticks. It's hard to get a dragon and a fairy to sit down at the same table, trust me. In this city, it's every man for himself."
"Then how does anyone get things done here?"
"While everyone is different and consensus is impossible, groups of like-minded individuals do gather, from a petty lord's retinue to cartels. They mostly do it for mutual defence and assistance, and then to survive day-to-day life. We call those groups guilds."
"And I bet your band is one such guild, right?"
"You catch on fast," Ace smiled, "No two guilds are the same, but most eventually come to revolve around certain activities. Of course, the system isn't perfect. Feuds and territory struggles between groups are frequent, yet things have worked this way for centuries and so far the city remains somewhat stable."
A city at the mercy of feuding groups and gangs shouldn't be called stable, but I suppose it depended on perspective.
"The same as many others," Ace smiled, "Finding a way home."
As we continued marching along the wall, I noticed a change in the scenery. A large, black archway of darkened wood, large enough to allow an elephant through, was sculpted on the wall itself. green symbols carved on the wood glowed periodically.
The archway opened the way into a dark tunnel lightened by torches, although I couldn't see the end of it. Skins waited before it, alongside two other people.
The first was the stereotypical picture of an imp. He was a small, red skinned creature with little black horns, pronounced yellow eyes, and sharp teeth. The critter had bat-like wings, also black. Each of them was marked with Lazarus's brand. His small hands and feet were clawed and his prehensile tail twitched and waved back and forth. A small, golden crown sat on his head.
Finally, he carried a heavy purse as large as his body. He also levelled a glare at me. "Mur believed you had chickened out," the imp shrieked, sneezing at me, "Who's this moron?"
I glared back at the demon. "I'm right here, you know?"
"Mur does not talk to animals, lest they think they are his equals," the imp snapped, "You should kneel before Mur, for Mur is Master of Legions! Mur infernal duke! Mur dries seas and turns skies ablaze-"
"Yes, and you turn the women barren and raise the dead, yadda-yadda, blah-blah, we get it," Skins cut in, locking eyes with me next, "This is Mur, our troop's vanguard. Don't mind him, you get used to his rambling after a while."
"And yes, he's an arrogant little asshole," Skins continued, "Can't blame him though. He used to be some big shot demon lord before Lazarus caught him and turned him into this."
"Mur will have revenge!" the imp swore, completely ignoring us, "When Mur is great again, he will rain fire and brimstone upon this city!"
The second person was vaguely humanoid save for the fact that he towered over us even while sitting and his hands were bigger than my skull. His brown skin was covered with green and yellow moss. His face reminded me more of a boar than a man, including small tusks and porcine, brown eyes. The walking mountain of muscles was strangely dressed, wearing a savaged leather jacket and ragged brown pants.
"Can I eat your pants?" he said with the most reasonable voice one could imagine from a boar-like giant, "I tried eating mine, but they weren't tasty."
"Sorry but I'm quite attached to this pair."
"Way to give a good first impression, Doc," Skins sighed as the creature shrugged.
"Oh, all my excuses, I forgot to introduce myself!" the giant coughed politely and raised his left index finger as if doing us a lecture, "I am a respectable scientist, Doctor Barnabas von Hobbes, owner of a theoretical degree in mashing, minored in smashing."
"Never heard of it," I deadpanned.
"I know, right? It is… unique. I invented it myself! It means I'm an expert at mashing things together until they work! Or smashing them when they do not. I win either way."
"This is Doc, the gatekeeper and the smartest troll you'll ever meet," Skins said, "Which says a lot about trolls in general."
"Indeed, trolls are the world's gift to intelligence," Doc continued, completely oblivious to the shapeshifter's insult. "I am sure you've heard of my most prized invention, the clock that never moves? Since the wearer cannot tell time, he is forced to decide. The user commands time itself! And through that, The World!"
I saw Ace roll her eyes. Definitely an interesting bunch.
I glanced at the gate. "I heard Sol and Booz speak of pathways," I noted, "Is this the entrance of one of them?"
"Indeed," she confirmed. "This is the Ebony Gate. There are hundreds of them around Crossroads, but this one is one of the most famous. The silver keys open hidden doors inside those pathways. Eventually, one of them will be our exit."
"If it's that simple, how has nobody escaped yet?"
"The pathways are lethally dangerous," Ace said bluntly, "Monsters called Divs roam them and attack on sight. Traps abound, and it's pretty easy to get lost."
"Mur loves the traps," the imp smirked, "Mur loves pushing things into acid pits!"
"The Divs aren't that bad," Doc added, "They can be pretty tasty."
"We'll be paid to patrol the nearby pathways, check if any doors have been left open, and close them where necessary." Ace explained.
She sighed. "The risk is minimal, but we can't rule out another Div might lurk nearby. We might have to fight. On the good side, if you join you will get a share of the profits."
"Since you don't have any special abilities, we'll give you a relic. Consider this an introduction gift."
"You want to gift him the robes?" Mur asked, glaring potently at his boss. "You wish to give a hard-earned Relic to a complete stranger? Have you gone mad?"
"None of us can use it," Skins shrugged. "It's not like any of us have needed that thing before now, we won't get a chance to sell it until later… and I don't think it's worth much, anyway. Why not?"
"And what makes you think it will work with him?"
"The deck told me so," Ace answered as she shuffled her deck.
"Divination is not an exact science," Mur protested. "Didn't predict Jack bailing out on us!"
Ace silently glared at him. "Get the robes."
The imp cursed and searched inside his bag. With a heave, he pulled out a long, hooded cloak of black silk. Aside from the obvious quality of the robes, they didn't appear especially unusual or unique. "If you don that," Ace said, "you'll be able to survive this city and the horrors beyond this archway."
"Mur says we should find someone better for them," the imp whined. "He probably doesn't even know how to fight! A waste Mur says, a waste!"
"The choice is yours," Ace said, "Each Relic behaves differently. It might accept you, it might ignore you, it might even harm you. Anything is possible."
"So you're giving me something potentially dangerous, without even knowing what will really happen?"
"Yes," Ace replied, "I really want to see if you have the will to take necessary risks."
Seizing the robes, I promptly put them on myself.
