Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

Koser Town didn’t seem bustling at all, perhaps because the snow had just stopped, or perhaps because there had just been a murder. Only a few townsfolk who took advantage of the cessation of snowfall were out and about. When they saw Malin, who was fashionably dressed in their eyes, and the soldiers following him in a combat formation, they were momentarily at a loss.

Malin is now matrilineal, a standard Frost Giant half-blood and a clothes rack, a common race in the North.

The soldiers behind him were basically slaves who had fled or had been sold to Malin from the North. To the townsfolk, they looked like locals. The only issue was that their clothes were different from those of the regular soldiers.

That was the cause of the townspeople’s confusion—they looked like one of their own, yet not quite.

In this dilemma, Malin saw the approaching militia—these middle-aged men who looked like soldiers without the uniforms and equipment and who mostly bore battle scars. They held melee weapons, and only one, seemingly the leader, had a revolver holstered at his waist.

"Who are you, and what brings you to Koser Town," the leader came over, placing his hands where Malin could see them and simultaneously pushing an overeager youngster, who had tried to follow and bolster his courage, to the ground: "Adults are talking, scram."

The youngster had just stood up when another middle-aged militia member grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to the back of the formation.

This was the attitude one should have in the face of dozens of rifles.

Malin nodded, "Malin Gaiate, Malin from Carterburg."