Erik stepped through the city gates and into the vibrant heart of Testrovsc's Rest. He was immediately confronted with towering buildings, each with about ten floors.
Although these structures were mainly concrete, they had an intriguing charm. Their utilitarian nature reflected the city's practical spirit. Still, each had its aesthetic details that gave the city its personality.
Despite its smaller scale, the city's bustling streets were reminiscent of New Alexandria's thriving cityscape. Shop signs hung from every corner, offering a tempting array of goods and services.
Yet it was the people that genuinely breathed life into the city. A veritable sea of humanity ebbed and flowed around Erik, a thrumming rhythm that gave a pulse to the city's concrete veins.
People from all walks of life brushed past him, their expressions determined and purposeful. They all had one thing in common: they were mercenaries. Erik was reasonably sure of this based on the way they moved and the keen gaze in their eyes.
Their clothing, the weathered weapons they carried, and the calluses on their hands all told of a life lived on the edge of danger.
The young ones, the novice mercenaries, were easy to spot, their eyes wide with excitement and a touch of fear. Some clutched their weapons nervously, while others walked with a cocky swagger. Still, all carried an air of uncertainty as they moved toward the city's exit. Some hadn't yet experienced the crucible of actual combat and were just out of the nest.
Erik, among this sea of youth, could spot the veterans. Some were grizzled with age; their faces were etched with hardship and experience lines. Others were still young, but their eyes were hardened, and they had a quiet strength that spoke of countless battles.
However, those who bore the visible scars of their profession piqued Erik's interest the most—men and women with robotic limbs and glowing mechanical eyes.
Each prosthetic was a grim reminder of an old injury, a harsh reminder of the price they paid for their line of work. But there was no shame or regret in their expressions. They wore their scars as badges of honor, as reminders of battles fought and won.
Despite their disparities in age and experience, they all shared a bond. They were Fortune's soldiers who had chosen a dangerous and uncertain path. Erik saw reflections of his journey in their eyes. He was a mercenary in a city of warriors.
A sense of belonging washed over him as he took in the city's pulsating life. He was a stranger here but felt at ease amid the hustle and bustle, tension, and anticipation.
Erik's boots echoed crisply against the pavement as he walked through Testrovsc's Rest's bustling sidewalks. His sharp and discerning gaze swept over the crowd.
He was a stranger in a strange city, and his priority was to find a place to stay. His journey from Frant had been long and exhausting, and he yearned for the simple pleasures of a soft bed and a hot shower. But first, he needed to hail a taxi.
Bodies of all sizes moved past him as he searched, a river of life flowing through the city's veins. The citizens of Testrovsc's Rest were a mixture of mercenaries, traders, and adventurers, all drawn by the city's vibrant pulse. Their colorful armors and gear were a testament to the city's reputation as a mercenary hub.
Yet, amidst the ebb and flow of city life, he found what he sought. A taxi, painted a glossy black, was parked a few steps away, its driver leisurely leaning against the side. The man's gaze was trained on the crowd, patiently awaiting his next fare.
Erik approached the taxi driver with a polite smile, tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you free?" he inquired, his voice rising above the city's constant hum. The man's eyes swept over Erik, a slight nod indicating his availability.
"I need a good hotel," Erik said as he slid into the back seat of the taxi. He required a base of operations, a location to plan his next steps, and, most importantly, a location that would provide adequate comfort and security.
Erik had barely finished his request for a good hotel when the taxi driver's face lit up with a broad and friendly smile. "You should check out the Luminary Plaza, young man," he said firmly. "It's one of the best in Testrovsc's Rest," he said, his fingers nimbly tapping into the vehicle's navigation system.
"Luminary Plaza, it is," Erik agreed with a nod, his gaze sliding past the window, capturing the city's skyline as it flowed past.
The taxi hummed quietly as it flew over the sky of Testrovsc's Rest. The city was alive with activity, streets bustling with pedestrians and various vehicles, neon signs advertising many businesses, and towering buildings piercing the sky.
The taxi driver, who introduced himself as Gil, peppered the drive with chatter, telling Erik about the city's favorite haunts, the best places to eat, and even recommended a few shops for equipment. All the while, Erik found himself captivated by the panoramic display of city life unfolding outside the vehicle.
In less than twenty minutes, the taxi arrived at a tall, sleek building that glowed like a beacon in the fading evening light. "Luminary Plaza," Gil said, a proud tone in his voice as he motioned towards the structure. "Doesn't it looks lovely?"
Erik nodded, pleased with the place. The name Luminary Plaza was certainly fitting. The hotel exuded a quiet elegance that set it apart from the surrounding structures, bathed in the soft glow of strategically placed lighting. He paid the fare and thanked Gil for the pleasant ride and suggestions. "I'll make sure to look them up," Erik assured the taxi driver, who smiled back at him through the rearview mirror.
Erik stepped out of the taxi and into the cool evening air with a final wave. He stood for a moment, taking in his new surroundings. He'd explore the city tomorrow, but the Luminary Plaza would be his refuge for now.
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