[Walking into a play about yourself? Geralt would have been mortified regardless of the contents of the play. He can barely stand people singing about him, let alone enacting his life.]

My sympathies. [Julian doesn’t sound entirely (at all) displeased with the prospect of being the subject of a bard, though, so he adds:] Should that bard of mine ever make an appearance here, I’ll be sure to direct him to you for inspiration. You’d be able to… enjoy a better depiction of yourself, if slightly exaggerated. With any luck, he’d lose interest in singing about my deeds and romantic conquests upon discovering an exciting new subject.

[Just thinking about Dandelion waxing poetic about his activities in this place is enough to fill him with a dreadful embarrassment. It would be much harder to escape recognition in a place as concentrated as this.]