Dear Reader. It is I, Master Dandelion! Back again from the depths of the complex, tangling Novigrad streets so that I can present to you the next chapter of my story. You remember the previous one, right? My extravagant tales with my faithful ally, Dune? I hope you do, because this is my continuation of it, right here (Please read the first one, I beg you.) Wait, you can't read it? Of course; my apologies. There's only one copy of it stuffed in my chambers at the Chameleon! What am I saying… wait, where are you running off to? Wait!
Oh well, I'm probably coming home to a broken-in building. Nevertheless, here it is! Now, I must warn you. This second adventure is a much more dangerous yet eventful story than the first – not that I'm afraid of danger, of course! I am not a fighter, or a swordsman however I can handle myself, you know. I don't need a sword to talk my way out of a situation! I mean, I guess I can say I have Dune for that, though I dislike his sudden sword flashes at every given opportunity… though if he hadn't, I'd probably be dead by now!
I've rambled on too long! Please enjoy.
After receiving that note – the one about meeting "D" at Farcorners the next evening, my anticipation of excitement within me pulsated in rhythm with my heartbeat. I immediately burned the letter and jumped around like an overly-hysterical Nekker. I'm pretty sure I woke everybody else up in the building; all the drunken lads, tired bartenders and extraordinary musicians. (Apologies for that, by the way.) I spent the next day preparing myself. Yes, I knew it would be highly dangerous. Before, it was unintentional: stumbling across danger at the most awkward time possible, then having Dune rescue me as if I was the damsel in distress! (I was not the damsel in distress!) Now, however, I was seeking it; actually going out of my way to write about our remarkable discoveries together. I was actually certain I would probably find my way to the tip of some hunter's pointy sword. After already experiencing this tale that I'm about to unravel to you, I can say that Younger-Dandelion was not wrong! I paced around the fish-market, saying hello to my fellow friends and frantically buying provisions for the journey. I juggled around taverns experiencing the finest ales before I became immediately stripped of them that evening. I heard word from Geralt of Rivia, simply asking me if I was fairing well in Novigrad, and that he'd just left Kaer Morhen in search of a contractor who was looking for some peculiar amulets, or something (I didn't really pay attention.) Then I stressfully waited until it was almost midnight, with my notes, parchment and journals in hand, before wandering out…
The sweet air of the city was crisp and strict. Echoes of my breath hung like relaxed clouds in front of my face. Choking smells of burning plagued the streets, finding their way from the nearby houses, up the chimneys or the windows and leaking onto the silent air. I swiftly walked around the plentiful splotches of Redanians that paced the cobblestones, and pardoned my way through busy civilians, carrying baskets of items or wielding knives against their hidden sleeves waiting for the right citizen to come by to unintentionally volunteer as their personal stabbing sack. I made my way across the crumbling bridge and… there he was. Wasn't hard to spot him. He was the only one in my view with a horse and a suspiciously calm silhouette.
"Well, we meet again." He said as I grew closer. He maintained his cheery tone despite his barbaric nature and familiarity with the handle of a sword. Sweat proceeded from his forehead, glittering in the moonlight, whilst his long, streaking black beard (which had been noticeably trimmed since the last time I saw him) flickered in the breezy air like the leaves off of trees. He had both hands rustling inside a satchel strapped to the side of the mare, but immediately retreated them to make way for a pat on my back.
"Indeed." I returned. We exchanged stares for an unusually long amount of time.
"Why?" I asked.
"Why what?"
"Why did you invite me back here?" My words rung in the subtle atmosphere, and I thought of before. His only mission was to get me back safely, and now he wanted to bring me back into it. I'm not complaining, of course! I love the idea of exploring the unknown and unveiling it to every single person I know. It's exciting!
"I couldn't resist. I see potential." I'm certain I saw a pinprick of happiness in his crystal blue eyes, which he noticed and then immediately looked away into the distance to hide it. "Is a life meaningful if you don't risk your life for the things you love?" He had a valid point. I smiled, looking down at my feet.
"Thank you." I mumbled. I was in his debt. I couldn't have possible wandered out into all sorts of danger to document the things I'd love to experience, but now I have Dune. Experienced killer (unfortunately, I guess) but good protector all the same. The only thing he gained from this was a clumsy idiot following him around a lot, which continued to spark the question of 'why?'.
"It might be dangerous." He turned back to look at me, warning me in a grave tone. I nodded like a nervous child, accepting the risk. "Let's do this." He mounted the horse and welcomed me to join behind him, on the same horse. How it managed both our weight combined, I'll never know.
"So where exactly are we going?" I'm going to be honest, I was expecting to ride off into the wilderness, and thus document the strange things of the world that nobody really sees. However, Dune had other plans. To my immediate surprise, he had steered the horse back into Novigrad; swerving around corners and flinging townspeople out of the way! I had to shout in order for him to pay attention to me (rather than actually hear me over the clattering of the horse hooves.)
"You'll see!" His mischievous grin replied.
Before I knew it I was staring at a boat that had just come into harbour.
"Are you kidding me." I think even Dune noticed it was more of a shocked expression than an actual question. I had brushed down the muck from my suit and laid down my tiny brown bag to the side, resting on a box. Dune wandered off to talk to some locals, then returned a moment later. Meanwhile, dockhands and privateers rummaged through the port like tiny, angry ants going about their day. I asked him what we were doing here.
"You're the one who wanted this!" he exclaimed in a humorous voice as if to say 'there's no turning back now!' "It'll be fun!"
"Hm." We both briefly looked away. The now rising sunlight charred the wooden boards and stone across the city. Chatters hid within the convoluted streets, and the red brick of the housing complemented the heat like a ferocious blaze. I lost count at the amount of times I had to wipe the sweat off my forehead, yet, astonishingly, Dune hadn't done it once since we got off the horse.
Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity of chatting to locals, our ears stood up like alert animals as the rather dull-looking captain of the ship started shouting all around just before Dune pat me on the back and dragged me up.
"Right, that's our cue!" he chuckled.
"We're not actually doing this, are we?" I exclaimed in shock. We were actually doing this.
I was nervous, I admit. I didn't bring my sea legs with me. I tried to hide to fact that I was actually shitting myself on the inside. We boarded the creaking structure, and the bridge became knocked off and onto the pier. We were off. "Don't worry." Dune said, "It's all paid for; you and me." He cheekily winked at me before rummaging off to talk with people on the ship.
"I'm actually quite concerned. Where are we going? What if we cannot make it back? What if…" I began to shout to Dune amongst the wailing of the waves and the sails.
"Don't be! It'll be fine." He talked back. He seemed so relaxed; definitely not the cautious man from before, eyeing behind his shoulder at every opportunity. By this point, we had been on this boat for a few days and I'd thrown up enough times to be unable to count them on both hands, and there was no land to be seen amidst the thick fog and the wild sea. Sighing, he turned back to me. We were idly standing on the deck; men rushing around us carrying spindles of netting and boxes of freshly hooked fish, screaming and shouting cheerfully as they hurry about their business. It was surprising how much they stank! Not to be rude, but I literally had to almost choke myself to dissipate the smell. "Look," he started, softly grabbing my arm in an attempt to comfort me, "we are only heading out of the continent! This is going to be different – and twice as exciting!" he added enthusiastically. "It'll only take a day, now. I promise!" He wandered off again (he has a habit of doing that at random moments.)
I struggled. It was in the middle of nowhere, and the only feeling of company was the vivid sense of other people's soaked clothing and greasy monotonous food! I'm not saying the presence of food is a bad thing, but you know what I mean. Along the journey, I met this seemingly shy fellow named Will. I must say, don't let his appearance fool you! He had a timid body structure, with black, curly locks coiled within a piece of vibrant, red cloth around his head, and his almost-luminous green eyes. However he managed to contain double the confidence as one of those brutes you see on the dim Novigrad alleys! He approached me one lunchtime, amidst the rocking of the ship and creaking of the wailing floorboards. He lumped down right next to me and immediately smiled.
"You eating that fish?" he roared brightly. He nudged me and, before I could even answer, he took it from my plate and started chomping on it like a wild creature. I let it slide for now; I must've been so desperate for someone else to talk to. I nodded slightly and kept my face blank and cryptic.
"So…"
"Will!" he said.
"Nice to meet you… Will. My name's –"
"Dandelion!" He looked mid-twenties, but had this quirky attitude of a ten year-old. Munching of my remaining parts of my food, I asked him how he knew. "You get a lot of talk around the cabins!" he started, "We laugh at you for your incompetence to walk steady on the deck." He leaned into me for a whisper, "It is kinda funny!" I chuckled with him before silence engulfed the conversation for a small period of time.
"So, you're a pirate, then?" I tried for anything to give me leverage in the conversation, however the moment he stuck a knife to my throat was the moment I had regretted it.
"Absolutely not!" he barked loudly, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear – or for anyone to pay attention I guess. "I'm a privateer. There's a difference." I held my hands up in surrender as he withdrew the knife and chuckled. "I'm only kidding!" he said before running off to tamper with something else.
"Okay then."
Land was in sight. I'm pretty sure I saw it before anyone else (yes, I was that desperate.) Sand guarded the forest-like structure, clashing against the water. I took excited gasps before immediately dashing to my room to gather my notes and journals.
"Sail ho!" Shit. Those words, chorused by multiple men above me, vibrated the ship before explosions and splinters of wood shattered around me. Dropping everything, I rushed to the surface to see what was happening. Ships. Multiple attackers surrounded our own. Smoke rose from the sea like plumes of grey matter from a fire. Metal shots zoomed past our heads and some into the ship itself, allowing passage of gushing floods through the structure. Deafening periods of silence followed bursts of sound as blazes of yellow inflicted upon all three ships. Us, and our two hostiles.
"Dandelion!" I heard Dune shout. I couldn't see him, for all I saw were our own people dashing around with drawn swords, and those same people crying blood by my feet. "Get inside!" The boat rocked heavily, in time with my panicked heartbeat. I stumbled around, tripping over bodies and collecting water in the bottom of my boots. I managed to get into the depths of the ship, however water was already up to my knees, and still rising. I slammed my cabin door open, searching for anything to use for a weapon. The shouts and screams grew numbingly quiet, muffled through the water and the power of the shots from our invaders. The last thing I saw before I propelled out of the gaping hole in the side of the ship, and into the open water, was Will's body, bloody and limp, lying dead in the corner of the room.
My eyes struggled to pry themselves open. My first senses consisted of wet sand on most sides of my face, drenched clothing weighing me down, and a steel sword pressing against my throat. I startled myself awake, backing my body away into a tree as my vision slowly became more vivid. Dune.
"Did I scare ya?" he sheathed his sword and gave me a helping hand from the ground.
"That's not funny! We could've died and you're playing jokes?" I started to brush off the sand and clean my face, however I was certain I was just making it worse.
"Well we made it to our destination, didn't we?" he seemed too relax for this situation; relishing the moment like a fine ale rather than assessing it seriously. Combating the grains of sand on my crimson clothing like a tiny, insignificant war, I looked at him more carefully – studying his expressions. "Look, I'm only trying to lighten the mood. I know this is a pretty fucked situation, but look on the bright side! You wanted adventure, you got adventure." Did I want adventure? I wasn't sure anymore. With no sure way back home and no food to secure our stomachs, we were effectively stranded. Shit.