Novigrad (Part 1)

Dijkstra put his arms in pockets with obvious satisfaction written all over the face. The first step of the plan was successful, it can hasten his plans in Novigrad significantly. But he wasn't without worry as the whole North could be in danger soon.

The best spy of Redania firmly believed, that if he wanted peace, preparation for war was necessary. And if he wanted supremacy, conquest was the only answer.

His people disappeared with a single command, leaving trio standing in a deserted corner of the street. Alan looked to the side with a slight smile on his lips. There a beggar was retreating to the sewers. Dijkstra played his cards beautifully and even left a couple of leads for relevant people to pick up.

In an hour the whole underworld of Novigrad will know about their dealings, but they couldn't figure out the specifics.

'Are we used as baits?'

"I hate spies." - grumbled Alan.

"You too! You are right, my dearest friend! That man is nothing but trouble, we need to run away!" - firmly stated Jaskier. Albeit his firmness was influenced by shaking legs and pouting look.

"You look like a wronged maiden."

"That is not a laughing matter, Alan. Dijkstra is dangerous. Very dangerous. You never know what goes through his mind and he is ruthless. For him, there is no regard for life, only usefulness." - said Jaskier while straightening clothes.

"No matter." - Alan shrugged and stepped out of the valley, welcoming the crowded street.

Novigrad was the busiest city he saw in this world so far. And also one with all sorts of citizens roaming the streets. But even here, a pearl of the North known for its freedom, Alan saw discrimination and oppression.

They made their way to the center square, went through the crowd, and finally found an entrance to the inn.

Kingfisher Inn was a jewel of Novigrad and the most famous place for visitors to stay.

"Oh, the owner of this place, Olivier, is a man of virtue and a keen sense for art. He appreciates this humble bard." - said Jaskier while coming up to the door. His otherworldly sense suddenly pricked, forcing the musician to turn his head sideways, noticing a beautiful woman. Naturally, as an ardent lover and unconditional supporter of every gorgeous woman in the world he couldn't pass one of their kind standing nearby. - "Oh, the apple of my eye! I thought I mistook you for a dreamy mirage, but now I see you are real. You attract my gaze like the first star in the sky during a warm summer night. Your eyes gleam akin to rarest jewels one can't even find in the treasury of kings! Me lady, your elegance and visage won my sincerest admiration. I humbly present myself in front of your feet. Jaskier, bard, traveler, and poet."

Alan cringed while looking at the woman. She wasn't someone one would describe with such shameless words.

"This is giving me creeps." - said Coen.

"Fuck! It worked!" - exclaimed Alan with wide eyes, noticing how the said apple of Jaskier eyes went red and shy all over. She received a little piece of paper from him and sped away. Looks like tonight someone will be busy.

"You don't understand the hearts of women, my young friend!" - said Jaskier. He was very pleased with himself.

"I really don't want to hear this from you." - Alan gave him a bland look and stepped inside the inn.

It was spacious with tables all around and the second floor for private time.

"It is better than many other inns out there. Neat." - said Coen, while making his way to the table in the corner.

"Rowdy." - added Alan.

People around didn't pay much attention to the newcomers. Seems like they were tolerant to the witchers, let alone Jaskier looked like a bard, and some of them recognized him. One must admit at least one positive thing about the purple dressed poet – he indeed was popular.

"Jaskier, you seem to know how things are around here. Where can I find a qualified mage?"

"Everywhere." - said the bard and waved his hand for a server to notice their table.

"Explain."

"Oh, I mean it literally. Currently, we are in Hierarch Square. This district of Novigrad is widely known to be a popular place for sorceresses and mages to buy residences. Thank you, dear. Food is even better when delivered by such a fairy-like maiden." - naturally, the man of culture couldn't let go of any skirt around. The serving girl blushed and hang her head down in shyness as if she never was with a man before.

"Jaskier, answer my question." - Alan brought grinning bard back. He looked at the black eyes of the man, glued to retreating figure with a sigh. - "Using vibe around you is pure torture for the innocent mind."

"You... you read my mind? How could you! This is a breach of privacy, a preposterous act of..."

"Get to the point."

"Tch, this is in your genes. You behave like Geralt and Yen... as expected. Okay, okay, no need to touch this sharp thing. No, no, don't unsheathe it! I understand, to the point... okay, to the point... what we were talking about again?" - Jaskier looked at Alan sheepishly.

"Sorcerers or sorceresses, where can I find one to undo artifact compression."

"I don't really know about their qualification, but maybe you should ask Olivier. He is the owner. Worry not about his character. Olivier is a man of culture and doesn't have any prejudice against other races or mages. Still, Novigrad is a place where someone like you needs to look around with vigilance, my friend."

"I am a human." - said Alan with no bias about the other races.

"A human with purple-cold eyes that looked like one of a dragon. Alan, stay prudent, please. Although I can take care of some troubles here, we will risk our necks if wrong people are provoked." - naturally Alan knew that Jaskier wasn't lying about his influence. And mainly it was because of a certain doppler he can ask for a favor.

Poet, who usually bragged left and right now chose discretion and staying low. That meant a lot coming from him.

"I've seen worse cases of racism. It is toned down here."

"On the surface only, Alan. In reality, the ruling power of Novigrad is constantly trying to drive away as many non-humans as possible. They are even less tolerant of mages, and you are the one. Oh, speaking of the owner. Seems like he is coming himself."

"Maestro Dandelion! What a pleasant surprise to find you here. Men, this table is on the house. Serve the best dishes!" - a man in his forties approached the trio. He had a beard, coupled with a bald head and a kind smile on his face.

"Olivier, long time no see. I hope my absence didn't cause your taste to literature and art go bad, as I plan to sing a couple of songs here today if you don't mind."

"Of course, I don't mind! You are very welcome, after all, most of us here are eagerly waiting for your recent creations. I heard you recently wrote several masterpieces about a young witcher. A merchant the other day bragged that he heard your Uidewen. I want to witness that performance too." - Olivier said with a zealous expression, while Alan sighed under the smug look of the bard, directed at him.

"By the way, my friend here happens to fall in need of special magic. Do you have any recommendations? I implore you to give us directions." - Jaskier took a pint of sour beer from the serving girl and gave her a wink as a reward.

"Naturally, as far as I remember the best sorceress among the ones in Novigrad these days should be Margarita Laux-Antille. Her house is right across the square. I saw her the day before on the streets." - Olivier said with a straight face. But Alan saw his infatuation with the woman.

"Oh... wait... you mean this Margarita Laux-Antille? The one who is known to be one of the strongest sorceresses and a friend of Yennefer from Vengerberg?" - Jaskier asked with a slight shock.

"Yes, why?"

"My god! But that is good too!" - clapped his hands Jaskier and glanced at Alan. - "You see, she is a rare case of a sorceress who never cared about politics. Her only concern always was the prosperity of the academy. It is good to be her. Margarita is rather famous for her gentle temper. She is a pleasant sorceress."

"Pleasant?" - Alan looked at Jaskier and saw what he meant. Immediately a spoon of soup he ate was all over the table.

Jaskier was a man of culture. He divided sorceresses into four major categories. Extremely pleasant, pleasant, unpleasant, and extremely unpleasant. The first type always answered to the bed invitation with an eager agreement, the second decline the offer politely and the third did it with the usage of battle spells. As for the forth, the extremely unpleasant category, there a lover of women can find sorceresses who made Jaskier weak in his knees and unable to perform as a man just from a thought of bedding them.

For him, Yennefer was one such woman.

"She declined you politely?" - asked Alan perplexed.

"You! You did it again?"

"What?"

"You read my mind!" - complained the bard. - "Seriously, you need to stop this nasty habit of yours."

Little did he know that it was very difficult for Alan, who lived for many years with the vibe, to stop using it. It was like to ask an able person to never move hands again. He did it almost on instinct.

"I'll try." - said Alan and stood up.

"Are you going to find her?" - Coen asked, placing a mug on the table. His face told stories about how shitty the drink was. Alan just nodded to his question.

"Be cautious around her, my young friend. It was said that her beauty is so great, that even goddesses are jealous. Don't fall for her charms. Stay vigilant!"

"Even if he does, it will be an exceptional one-night stand." - smirked Coen encouragingly.

"Should I give you a punch, ancient fossil?"

"Come on, it is time you have some magnificent night with a woman."

"Like you did that other day? As I said, I don't need advice from you. Your tastes for women are too heavy for me." - said Alan dismissively and threw a pouch of coins near Coen. - "I know you don't have money recently, treat yourself while I'm gone."

Coen just shrugged and took the money shamelessly. He knew that for Alan this negligible amount is just a drop in the ocean.

"Alan, good luck." - Jaskier was even happier to find additional money. He immediately changed his attitude and ordered more booze. Both were restrained in front of Alan.

That was understandable, after all that trouble he always caused while drunk.

It was obvious that Alan himself didn't plan to drink much after Rinde. So he exited the inn and went through the plaza to the house of a famous sorceress.