After telling Ylva all the important things, Lucian went to his room.
Inside, Lucian changed his clothes. He painted his hair black. He added a small blue mark to each cheek, his bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement of exploring the new world.
He looked in the mirror and chuckled. "Hmm, now I look a bit like myself back on Earth."
Why was Lucian stepping out of his own house, looking so unusually dressed? It was true, Lucian often enjoyed a good laugh and generally appeared quite relaxed. However, those who knew him from his time on Earth remembered a very different man – serious, focused, and always alert.
The reasons behind this transformation, this shift in his very nature, was a tale for another time.
Lucian, by habit, was a man of immense caution. He understood the importance of keeping his personal life separate from any potential dangers. He'd never be so foolish as to lead his enemies directly to his doorstep. But this wasn't Earth, a place he understood.
This was Norlandia, a land teeming with individuals harboring hidden motives and intricate schemes, a place where trust was a rare commodity.
After meticulously preparing himself, Lucian exited his manor with a swiftness that ensured he remained unseen. He moved like a shadow, slipping through the grounds and into the bustling streets of Stormhold city.
Once beyond the familiar walls of his home, he began to carefully analyze his surroundings. He observed the flow of people, the architecture of the buildings, and the subtle undercurrents of energy that pulsed through the city, searching for any sign of danger or intrigue.
He said, "Hey System, can you save a map of all the important places in Stormhold city?"
System's mechanical voice sounded in his head. "Yes, I can. Please explore new places, and I will save the information."
Lucian started moving, going to different parts of Stormhold city.
The manor where Lucian and Leora lived was in the residential area of Stormhold city. As he stepped out, the first thing that struck him was the sheer orderliness of the place. The cobblestone streets were meticulously laid out, not a single stone out of place. It was a testament to the city's planning.
Off course it was nothing compared to the cities he remembered from Earth. The houses here were built with a sense of uniformity, yet each possessed its own unique character. They were primarily two or three stories high, constructed from sturdy grey stone, likely quarried from the nearby hills.
The high-pitched roofs, covered in dark tiles, were designed to shed the frequent rains of the region, and the wooden beams that framed the windows and doors added a touch of warmth.
He observed the houses. They were built in a similar style - sturdy, with high-pitched roofs and wooden beams, but varied in size and decoration, reflecting the wealth of their owners. Some had small gardens in front, blooming with colorful flowers he didn't recognize, their sweet fragrance mingling with the fresh scent of the morning dew.
Others boasted intricately carved wooden doors, depicting scenes of mythical creatures or heroic battles, and stained-glass windows that shimmered with jewel-toned light, hinting at the opulence within.
The people he passed were equally varied. There were merchants in fine clothes, their faces serious as they discussed business deals, their voices hushed and urgent, their hands gesturing emphatically as they exchanged coins and contracts.
Children with bright eyes, chasing each other through the streets, their laughter echoing in the clean air, their small feet pounding on the smooth stones as they weaved between the legs of the adults.
And servants in simple attire, carrying baskets of goods, their expressions neutral and efficient, their movements swift and practiced as they navigated the crowded streets.
He saw a group of guards patrolling the streets, their armor gleaming in the morning light. They moved with a disciplined precision, their eyes scanning the surroundings, alert and watchful.
The polished steel of their breastplates and wolf head helmets reflected the sunlight, and the rhythmic clinking of their swords and halberds against their armor created a constant, low-level hum of authority.
Their presence was a subtle reminder of the Jarl's power, a reassurance to the law-abiding citizens, and a warning to any would-be troublemakers.
In a small square, a fountain gurgled softly, its water sparkling in the sunlight. People gathered around it, some filling pitchers with water, the cool liquid splashing against the earthenware, the sound a refreshing counterpoint to the city's bustle.
Others simply rested and enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere, sitting on the stone benches that surrounded the fountain, their faces turned towards the sky, soaking in the warmth of the sun.
The residential area had different levels. Lucian and Leora were given a high-level manor. These were hard to buy and were mostly rented. These manors often came with additional perks, such as private gardens, stables, training yard and even a small staff of servants.
The higher levels also boasted wider streets, better maintenance, and closer proximity to important city functions, such as the Jarl's palace and the main marketplace.
The residential area had a good system for roads and waste. It was very clean. The streets were regularly swept by teams of workers, and the gutters were clear of debris, ensuring that the city remained relatively free of the filth and stench that plagued many other urban centers.
This emphasis on cleanliness was a point of pride for Stormhold, a symbol of its advanced civilization and the Jarl's effective rule.
Near his home was a warrior quarter. It was a big building with places to train and live. It was for those people who worked in this city as adventures and had a family but could not afford to pay a rent for private residence.
The warrior quarter was a sprawling complex, consisting of several large buildings surrounding a central training yard.
The buildings themselves were simple and functional, constructed from sturdy timber and stone, but they provided a sense of community and camaraderie for the adventurers who called them home.
The training yard was a hive of activity, filled with the sounds of clashing steel, the grunts of exertion, and the shouts of instructors.
From the outside, Lucian's house was somewhat good compared to other people. With a training facility and servants, it was a life many adventures wished for. It was a symbol of status, a reward for past successes, and a stepping stone to future opportunities.
For others it was a symbol of status but for Lucian and Leora it was like an exile.
As he walked further, the atmosphere began to change. The clean, orderly streets gradually gave way to narrower, more crowded ones. The houses became smaller and more cramped, with less space between them.
He saw fewer gardens and more laundry hanging from windows, flapping in the breeze like colorful flags. The vibrant colors of the hanging clothes - reds, blues, greens, and yellows - added a splash of color to the otherwise drab surroundings.
The people here seemed different too. Their clothes were simpler, often worn and patched. Their faces were more careworn, their expressions a mix of weariness and resilience.
The laughter of children was still present, but it was often mixed with the shouts of vendors and the haggling of customers. The sense of community was stronger here, a feeling of shared struggle and mutual support.
He passed a group of adventurers, their armor dented and scratched, their faces scarred and weathered. They were arguing loudly about a recent job, their voices rough and animated. One, a hulking man with a shaved head and a massive axe, was gesturing wildly, his face flushed with anger.
Another, a nimble woman with quick eyes and a drawn bow, was trying to calm him down, her voice measured and soothing.
The smell of food was stronger here, a mix of cooked meat, spices, and something that smelled vaguely like fish. He saw stalls selling a variety of goods - everything from vegetables and fruits to tools and weapons.
The reason there were no stalls near Lucian residence was because it was a high-level area and people were not allowed to open street vendors or small stalls.
The vendors, their voices hoarse from shouting, hawked their wares with practiced ease, their hands moving quickly as they weighed goods and made change.
Lucian walked around this part of residential area. He saw that the houses were not as nice, and it was not as clean.
He kept walking and heard people shouting and sellers crying out. He smelled alcohol. The air grew thicker, heavier, carrying with it the distinct scent of cheap liquor and unwashed bodies.
Lucian followed the smell and sound. He came to a big gate that was open. Four people in armor stood at the corners, holding axes, bows, and swords. Their stances were relaxed, but their eyes were sharp and watchful, a silent warning to any who might consider causing trouble.
There was writing above the gate. Lucian read it: "The Red Light Area: The true path to Heaven."
Starting from the gate it was the end of residential area and starting point of Commercial area.
Lucian chuckled and thought, "I should go in here. Of course, for research purpose." He said this with a small smile.
A flicker of amusement danced in his blue eyes.