It was midday
in Novigrad. Birds were dipping and
diving in the lively air that smothered buildings and alleyways. Alehouses, inns and markets filled the
otherwise empty wooden shacks. People
were bustling about their day, bumping into others as they moved along like
groups of ants. Amongst one of the inns
was a Witcher. Geralt of Rivia, in
fact. He was merely drinking his mead. Taking a break from all the usual killing; he
needed it. Everything seemed calm at
first. The mead tasting and bursting flavour
on the insides of his mouth, bands equipped with various instruments danced in
the background, and cheers and talks commenced around him. Strangely enough, Geralt found comfort in the
proceedings of the surroundings.
However, he noticed a disruption.
A distortion happening amongst various people around the bartending
area. They looked like thieves; almost
completely covered in the sharp metal of their blades. After they had disappeared, Geralt asked the
man serving drink about the ruckus that has crept up.
nothing” the man said, trying to hide his fear.
The shaking in his voice was not subtle.
After some persuasion, Geralt managed to get the guy to talk.
contract. Dangerous, it is. Man named Stefan not too far from here wants
it taking care of. The fact that it
hasn’t been dealt with has stirred locals.”
After thanking the man and paying for his drink, Geralt decided to head
off in the given direction. He didn’t
know whether to be thrilled or annoyed.
He wanted to take a leisurely break from the whole thing, but Witchers
never shy away from some more coin in their pockets.
up with Stefan, he was exposed to the situation. Geralt was given a parcel of some sort. He tugged at the ends and opened the contract. The letter itself seemed clean and untouched
like no one had dared gone near the item itself. The parchment roughly pulled at his
fingertips as he read it.
To anyone who dares accept my calling:
a monster on Island Frologhe, not too far from here. It’s… not human. Last time I saw it, I moved across sea to
Novigrad with my wife and children. It
still haunts me. As close friends of
mine are still inhabited on the island, I am willing to pay a hefty sum of cash
to whoever may take out that bellowing beast.
Be warned, it haunts at night but is non-existent by day. It is large, has spindly features and was
ghostly black. So much so that it seems
to camouflage in with the scenery. As
eager as I was to see it, my mind would blank it out; tell me there’s nothing
there! ‘Twas a hot piece of cold
nightmare that scolded my every waking thought.
Please, take of it. Head to the
port and find a boat. Travel to that
damned island and take the beast out.
Also, if you happen to see cousin Alisha, tell her I’m fine – and that
I’m living here, the east of Novigrad.
tucked the paper into his right pocket.
He knew his objective. He felt
unsettled, however; he hadn’t heard of anything like this before. Curiosity flooded his mind more than
in the direction of the nearest herbalist.
He’d needed to stock up on various potions and blade oils for the
journey to Frologhe. He also knew that
the trek across sea was no cheap matter.
After purchasing the required items, Ergot seeds, Arenaria and the sort,
Geralt headed to the port. Stefan said
he should look for the short man with the long beard. Geralt used his Witcher senses to identify
his next move. After some time, he found
the dwarf he was looking for.
“I’m looking to
go to travel to Frologhe.” The Witcher introduced.
dwarf replied, “and why might you be going there?”
unusual amount of explanation, the short man agreed to make the journey. He said he was going there anyway to complete
some errands of his own. The dwarf, who
Geralt later found was a man named “Dewey”, gestured him to his cabin. Geralt’s heavy boots crunched the decking as
he moved along the ship’s exterior. The
wooden planks seemed to scream and moan back, creaking loudly as he traversed
the area. As Geralt finally reached his
temporary guest room, he settled down on the shallow, worn-down bed that sat in
the corner of the room. The room wasn’t
exactly luxury, yet again – Witchers don’t care for luxury. It was small and only equipped with a few
cupboards and spare clothes. There was
also a bucket in the darkest corner.
Geralt lie down, and slowly let the rocking of the room and rustling of
the ocean sea send him to sleep.
“Get up!” Dewey
roared. Geralt was abruptly awoken to
the thumps on his door. “We’re almost at
the place.” Geralt rubbed his
orange-hinted eyes and stumbled his way outside. The sea air immediately struck him. He often wished that his senses weren’t so
powerful! As Geralt finally came to, he
noticed seamen working hard; tinkering with various metal parts and ropes which
were connected to all parts of the ship.
They seemed so lively and cheerful, as if they’ve been up for hours already.
“Here we are.”
Dewey interrupted, “Frologhe.” Geralt
looked into the distance. The island
drew near. It seemed that the closer
they came to the island, the thicker the mist seemed to emulsify the air. It suddenly became colder like a phantom
possessed the vicinity. Frologhe was officially
known as “The Lonely Isle.” In due time,
Geralt would see for himself: the mysteries that filled Frologhe, and the
monster that was only known as “The Cold-Hearted Thief.”
This story is based off The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt. Please let me know if you enjoy this by following my blog. If you have any feedback please comment. If I find out people enjoy this kind of stuff, I may continue the story. I’m literally just starting out so I would really appreciate it if you reblogged so I can get more recognition. Thanks!
Mayor Bill Dewey n’ his son is Buck with poster parody n’ eye to eye scene from “A Goofy Movie” is my fav. Disney Movie when I was kid.
After I had research from Tumblr and etc. Something it’s made me had quiet think Mayor Dewey with Buck’s relationship look like Goofy with Max (for me). 1. Mayor Dewey n’ Goofy are single dad. 2. Max n’ Buck feel embarrassed with their dad.