Novigrad

Geralt usually avoids camping in the wild; it is far too conspicuous. Furthermore, a witcher's unique senses allow them to enter a state of meditation, which lets them pass the time quickly while remaining keenly aware of their surroundings. Thus, whether he camps or not is of little consequence; he simply kneels on the ground, closes his eyes, and the night passes in a blink.

But now, there is a mage in the party. So, not long after they had been on the road—just past midday—Geralt intended to find a clearing in the woods to set up camp. He Shenyan, however, held a different opinion. He watched with curiosity as Geralt dismounted and pulled his bedding from the horse's back, asking, "What are you doing?"

"Making camp."

"Are you tired?"

Geralt's hands paused. He said, "No."

"Then why are we not continuing our journey?"

And so, they set off once more. On the road, Geralt asked, "I thought you mages were... more prone to fatigue."

"Sometimes that is the case, Geralt. That said, where exactly are you planning to go?"

"Novigrad. We're going there to spend the winter. While we're at it, I'll see if there are any contracts in the city I can take. Fair warning, most of the contracts in that city are in the sewers."

Faced with the witcher's subtle warning, He Shenyan did not respond. He merely turned his head to look at a circular mirror that had appeared abruptly on the branches of a tree in the forest, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Let's keep moving."

They traveled along the coastal woodlands, avoiding the main roads and sticking to smaller paths. During this time, Geralt dealt with quite a few Drowners. These blue-skinned monsters possessed sharp fangs and claws, and they reeked to high heaven. But for Geralt, they were nothing more than a few swings of the sword. Had these things not blocked his path, he wouldn't even have bothered drawing his silver sword to deal with them. Repair costs are expensive. Even with a gold bar in his pocket, he had no desire to waste it. Killing ten Drowners might not even cover the cost of a single sword sharpening.

He Shenyan rode that sturdy black horse the entire way, and more than once, Geralt cast an envious glance at the animal. Such a fine horse would likely sell for over 500 crowns in Novigrad, while a Griffin was only worth 200—and that didn't even account for the cost of sword oils and potions.

Two days later, having traveled without camping, they arrived at the gates of Novigrad at dawn. This port city, known as the Pearl of the North, was grand and magnificent, firmly protected by endless stretches of city walls. Many country folk visiting for the first time might need half an hour just to accept that such a city could exist in the world.

Furthermore, the buildings here featured beautiful red-tiled roofs, and the streets were not filled with mud like those in the villages. There were bright brick-paved roads and merchants hawking their wares everywhere. There were five city gates alone, and within the city, there were 12 brothels and 35 inns.

Amidst the crowded throng entering the city, Geralt asked.

"What do you think? This is the Pearl of the North. Have you been here before?"

The black-robed mage merely offered a noncommittal smile. Neither demeaning nor praising, he spoke in a rational tone: "No, Geralt."

"But it is indeed magnificent and highly developed. I can tell just by the length of the queue waiting here. I imagine the gold this city earns every day must be an astronomical figure."

The witcher nodded and said, "There's a local saying: even the vegetable sellers on the streets of Novigrad make a hundred crowns a day."

As he said this, he shrugged: "But if that were true, no one would bother doing anything else. I could sell my sword right now and go sell vegetables."

The mage said with a straight face: "If that is the case, then please be sure to come find me. I can conjure clean water to keep your vegetables hydrated."

As they spoke, the line shortened bit by bit, and soon they reached the city gate. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance, holding halberds and wearing shining armor. One of them saw Geralt, lifted his visor, and greeted him: "It's you, witcher. Do you remember me?"

Geralt nodded: "Of course, Clarkson. I hope your wife is doing well."

The guard grinned: "She's doing much better than before! If you hadn't helped me find those medicines, I truly wouldn't have known what to do. Get on in! Is this your companion?"

He Shenyan also nodded, offering a polite smile. The two rode into the city. Geralt tugged on the reins to move closer to him and whispered: "You'd best keep a close eye on your belongings; the thieves here are world-famous."

The very second those words left his mouth, an elf in a pale yellow dress had her belongings snatched away by someone. She unleashed a string of creative profanities and gave chase. The culprit didn't get far before two guards, who happened to be patrolling nearby, pinned him to the ground. After the elf retrieved her items, she didn't feel satisfied and kicked him twice, right in the gut. The guards quickly stopped her, saying: "Ma'am! Calm down! He will be judged according to the law."

After the elf walked away, the two guards helped the groaning man up from the ground and led him away.

Seeing this, He Shenyan remarked: "I don't think that was a thief."

"Of course not, that was a robbery."

"Then, how many days of imprisonment will he be sentenced to?"

Geralt scanned the notice board by the street as he replied: "According to those in power, Novigrad is a 'free' city. Anyone has the right to live here, and that includes those gang members. The guy you just saw is likely one of them. So, I suspect he won't be imprisoned at all; his associates will probably bail him out very soon."

"That does sound very free."

They rode their horses to a spacious square where people came and went. In the center stood a statue of a scale, beneath which was a fountain filled with coins. Geralt led him to the edge of the square, where a dwarf stood leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, waiting. Beside him was a row of stables. Seeing business arrive, the dwarf's face quickly lit up with a smile. He greeted them enthusiastically in a booming voice: "Greetings! Guests! Are you looking to stable your horses?"

Geralt nodded and tossed ten crowns from his coat. The dwarf caught them with precision, his smile remaining: "Very well, two horses, ten crowns, two days. No problem, guests?"

The two dismounted. The dwarf whistled, and two dwarf stablehands in plain clothes ran out to lead their horses to the back. The dwarf who had taken the money handed Geralt two round iron coins, each engraved with the words "Murray Stables" on the front and a number—10 and 9—on the back. The dwarf said: "Then, please come back to collect your horses in two days, or continue paying to keep them here. If you don't return after two days, we will hold them for one more day."

Bidding the dwarf farewell, Geralt straightened his worn leather jacket and said: "So, are you planning to join me for a nice hot bath, or would you rather look around on your own?"

He Shenyan, of course, knew what the witcher meant by a bath. He nodded: "Let's meet here at seven tonight."