Lann and Triss walked out of the area where the poor resided, and the stone pavent reappeared, with less mud and dirty puddles on the road.
After leaving the Rotting Forest, they walked a bit further, and the sll of fish and the sounds of hawking beca more pronounced.
This was a fish market in Novigrad, a city rich in diverse fish catch, situated by both the sea and the river.
A human rchant wearing an olive green fabric cap held up a live eel, boasting loudly about how fresh today’s catch was to those around him.
He was chattering non-stop, confident in deanor, as if anyone walking away empty-handed from his stall would be at a loss.
Though it’s called a ’fish market,’ it actually sells everything, albeit with more fish stalls.
The marketplace was crowded, walking through felt like strolling through dense shrubs.
The Demon Hunter’s cloak was constantly tugged from all directions by various people.
Lann stood in front of Triss, parting the crowd like the bow of a ship splitting waves.
A little rascal, montarily released by their mother, tried to wipe their nose on his cloak.
The spy from the city’s watchtower wore a cloak just like him but was swept away by the crowd just as they tried to pull him aside for questioning, only grabbing a corner of his garnt.
A wandering rchant selling invisibility potions, aphrodisiacs, and erotic carvings on cedar boards also tried to tug him to pitch so goods.
Under the cloak, Lann’s previously calm and composed face twisted quickly, his mouth twitching, although, at least he hadn’t started cursing yet.
He began to shove the crowd in front but controlled his strength to that of an ordinary person.
Contrary to the quick frown Lann wore, Triss followed behind him with a broad smile.
"Hey, if I were being squeezed this way, I’d have rushed out already."
The Female Warlock shouted behind Lann, enjoying the spectacle.
"So you want to see blood here then? My, how terrifying your intentions are, Triss... Wait, why are you laughing? Are you laughing at ?"
"No, never." Triss denied flatly, but the arc of her smile and the bell-like clear laughter betrayed her. "Of course not. I just saw sothing cute."
Lann pouted, only seeing a big barrel of herring beside him now.
Finding sothing cute at a fish market, that was simply...
Before Lann finished his ntal rant, lodious lute music ca from not too far away, followed by familiar, laughter akin to babbling water.
The sounds ca from a vendor’s stall adorned with a storybook-like vibe. A wooden sign hung over the booth read: Selling Miracles, Protective Talismans, Hooks, and Bait.
"Oh, Priscilla, has anyone ever told you you are incredibly beautiful?"
Dandelion stood atop stacks of crates at the stall, cheerfully tapping his leg, singing to the crowd before him.
"What, no one? That can’t be true! Unless they’re all blind, blinded with lard over their hearts!"
Lann and Triss noted that Dandelion was asking these questions to a girl in front of him.
The girl wore clothes in blue and red, a striking color combination usually fit for perforrs like minstrels as they needed to catch the audience’s eye.
And when Dandelion focused a large crowd’s attention on her, she showed no unease and held a calm deanor, seemingly waiting eagerly for the minstrel’s performance.
"Co on, everyone! Who wants to hear a love song?"
Dandelion beckoned as he strumd his lute smoothly.
"To touch your heart, find fulfillnt, just throw a coin into my hat... What? What did you toss in here? A copper coin? Keep it for the beggars! Don’t insult art with copper coins! I might forgive you, but art cannot!"
"Dandelion!"
Lann turned in the crowd and approached the stall where the minstrel was.
"I thought you should be in the room with Geralt drafting a play script, yet you’re starting a concert here? Singing like an old beggar in the marketplace, why, don’t feel embarrassed now?"
Due to the crowd’s squeeze, Lann’s tone carried a hint of impatience.
"Embarrassed?" Dandelion spoke in surprise, "What’s important is who sings, not where they sing."
He appeared a bit flustered, even causing a jarring note amidst the lute’s originally fluid lody.
His fingerwork on the lute went erratic... but how could that be? Dandelion was more skilled at playing the lute than flirting with girls.
"You still haven’t answered my question, Dandelion. Is your script finished? Didn’t you say it would take at least a day?"
Lann frowned slightly under his hood.
"Script?" The minstrel blinked his eyes, "...Oh! Yes! The script!"
"But my good friend, you should know playwrights must eat too, I’m hungry. And this kind vendor offered to treat to a al."
"But my good friend." At this mont, Triss behind Lann chid in jokingly, repeating Dandelion’s words.
"I rember I rented you a room at the Kingfisher Inn where als are provided... If you’re truly pursuing the lovely lady, just say so, honestly, I know you can’t stay put."
Dandelion stood on the crates with an awkward smile, his eyes darting about.
And at this ti, the woman frequently engaged by the minstrel turned to face the two upon hearing Triss speak of her.
She was indeed beautiful, even not losing out when compared to the Female Warlock.
Golden hair cascaded from the cloth hat adorned with swan feathers, the face delicate, with slightly smoky eye makeup.
"Hello."
She spoke, her voice also delicate, and you could tell from her tone that she was a singer too.
"Are you also friends of Dandelion? He never ntioned it to . Call Priscilla."
"Hello, I’m Triss. As for him..."
The female warlock stepped past Lann to shake Priscilla’s hand, while awkwardly gesturing at Lann’s cloak, indicating he was not easy to introduce.
"Understood." Priscilla didn’t dwell on it.
While returning a sweet smile to Dandelion, who was starting to play and sing on a wooden box, she leaned closer to Triss and Lann and spoke softly.
"But Triss, could you... ask Dandelion not to cling to for a while? He’s been a bit too enthusiastic these days."
"Though I truly appreciate his poetry skills, if he... if he really wants to pursue , or just maintain a brief relationship, he doesn’t need to be like this, right?"
"I’m also a poet and singer; I have my own career to care about."
Listening to Priscilla’s words, Triss showed a look of sympathy and understanding.
She too could understand the annoyance of n chasing after you like bees when you’re devoted to your career.
Pretty won generally have this experience.
Those n seem to think won should be ready for romance around the clock, always waiting for love’s caress, but in reality, they also focus on their careers.
They may find overly sticky pursuits exhausting.
"Wait a minute!"
But Lann suddenly interrupted from the side.
"Did you just say ’these days’?"
As Lann emphasized ’these days’, Triss’s expression slowly turned as if she’d seen a ghost... her gaze flicked between Dandelion on the box and Priscilla.
"Yes." Priscilla, unaware of the situation, replied truthfully, slightly puzzled. "He’s been clinging to since I sang my first song at the Kingfisher Tavern."
Ultimately, both Lann and Triss had their eyes fixed on the poet still playing on the wooden box.
Dandelion’s forehead started to sweat, and his fingering beca increasingly chaotic.
Finally, the lute sound lost its tune and gradually stopped, Dandelion tried to manage a dry laugh.
Yet he couldn’t form this smile, so finally he simply leapt backward, causing the piles of wooden boxes stacked there to scatter everywhere.
"Hey! Are you out of your mind, idiot!"
The stall owner imdiately jumped up, cursing relentlessly.
Priscilla was also dumbfounded, clearly unaware of this sudden madness from ’Dandelion’.
But Lann and Triss knew that even though the situation had reached this absurd point... this ’Dandelion’ was certainly a Shapeshifter!
Likely it’s Dudu!
"Make way! Make way!"
Lann shouted while cautiously maneuvering through the crowd ahead.
By now, Triss wasn’t following him anymore; the female warlock simply squeezed towards another direction, aiming to encircle.
Her deanor now was much more brazen compared to when she stayed behind Lann.
Her bell-like voice cursed unreservedly, pushing through the market crowd, much like those haggling old ladies by the vegetable stalls.
Behind Lann ca the noise of various items being knocked over, and the sound of complaints and cursing from the crowd.
He leapt through the air effortlessly with agility far beyond normal folk, using his formidable core strength, twisting mid-jump over a child running around.
The ground beneath, made slippery by fishmongers, caused his soles to slide slightly, knocking over a barrel of herrings.
The stall owner, wearing an olive green cloth hat, shouted angrily while smacking his back with a fresh, lively eel.
The eel was indeed fresh, full of vitality.
"Dear one, block him from the other side!"
Triss pointed forward and shouted from not far away.
Behind her followed Priscilla.
The female poet, though seemingly baffled, was unexpectedly excited.
"What’s going on here? You’re friends, yet Dandelion is desperately dodging... was he under magic? A curse? Or faced with so anonymous yet dangerous threat?"
"I’ll help too, hurry and catch him! I’ve been inspired!"
What the...?
Lann looked at the excited female poet, surprised.
He thought he had encountered a female version of Dandelion.
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