Triss Merigold found herself lying on the ground, her vision blurry and her body wracked with pain. As she struggled to regain her senses, she became aware of a terrible truth: she was surrounded by death and destruction. The face of her fellow sorcerer, Yoël, lay lifeless beside her, his body mutilated and his limbs missing. Triss recoiled at the sight, feeling a wetness on her skin that could only be his blood.
But her horror was not yet over. As she turned her head, she saw Lytta Nyed, a fellow sorceress, lying nearby. Her body was burned beyond recognition, yet somehow she still clung to life, crying out in agony and pleading for someone to end her suffering.
"Kill me!!" Lytta screamed, her body wriggling on the ground, her face barely noticeable. "Please! Kill me!!"
"Lytta– I–" Triss desperately wanted to aid the wounded sorceress, Lytta, but as she tried to rise, her vision swam and the pain hit her anew. The sticky warmth beneath her was not just the blood of her comrades, but her own as well. With trembling hands, she assessed her injuries. Her once beautiful body was now a mutilated mess of charred flesh, deep cuts, and contusions, yet despite the agony that wracked her, she found herself flooded with adrenaline, driving her on.
Though Lytta's pitiful cries tore at her heart, Triss forced herself to stand, wincing as she surveyed the hillside strewn with the corpses of her fellow mages - Atlan, Vanielle, Lawdbor, Dagobert, and so many more. She could not dwell on their loss, though, for she saw Yennefer sprawled at the hill's edge. Triss remembered how the raven-haired sorceress had summoned all her strength to stop the massive fireball that threatened to engulf them all, and knew that without her intervention, they would all be dead.
Triss stumbled to her friend's side, ignoring her own blood-soaked burned clothing and the pain that flared with each step. Yennefer lay motionless, her clothes burned and torn, her skin blackened with soot and dirt, and Triss feared the worst. As she drew closer, though, she saw the other sorceress's face was a mask of blood, and from her eyes flowed a steady stream of crimson. Though blinded, Yennefer was mercifully alive.
Yet as Triss moved to tend to her friend, the sounds of hooves echoed up from below the hill, and a cold dread gripped her heart. She knew that more danger was approaching, and she steeled herself for the battle to come.
After standing up from her position next to Yennefer, she turned her gaze towards the foot of the hill. The sudden sound of galloping hooves caused her heart to skip a beat, as a group of horses approached the crest of the hill with no riders in sight. Tragically, these were Nilfgaardian soldiers who appeared to be in disarray, scattering in all directions - east, west, north, and south, including towards the very hill they had attempted to seize. As a group of soldiers almost reached the top, Triss's senses were heightened, and she summoned every ounce of magic that remained within her to face them fearlessly. However, to her surprise, a horse's lifeless body was hurled towards the group, crushing the bones of the soldiers upon impact, resulting in cries of agony and pain. Although some managed to survive, they eventually made it to the top of the hill, standing face to face with Triss.
The man's voice trembled as he screamed out in desperation, "H-HELP!" while dropping to his knees before the sorceress. "M-MON—" However, his words were abruptly cut short by a sudden strike from a Nilfgaardian lance, which pierced through his body and left him pinned to the ground. Blood spattered onto Triss, causing her to flinch in surprise.
But then, a massive monster appeared from nowhere and pulled the bloody lance out of the dying man's body. The beast towered over Triss, who instinctively backed away in terror.
"Are you alright, sorceress?" The beast speaks. He looked at her up and down. "Who am I kidding, you don't look alright."
"A-A werewolf?" she stuttered.
"No time to speak. You should rest, you smell of death." the beast continued. Triss then could hear the sound of hooves coming from the command centre's direction. The werewolf's eyes sharpened, and he let out a sigh.
"Of course, I should've known better. I helped them, and they want to kill me." The beast then turned to Triss, a bad feeling crept in her mind. "I'm sorry sorceress, it seems you're my only way out of this."
As soon as he touched her however, the redhead sorceress seems to lose all her strength and pass out, as if the magic of her body had been drained by something.
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Blaidd stood atop the hill, his blood-soaked fur shining in the sun as he looked down at the surviving mages, cavalries, and pikemen who had surrounded him. In the midst of the makeshift bodyguard squads stood King Vizimir II of Redania and King Foltest of Temeria.
"What have you done, monster?" one of the army captains spat at Blaidd.
"I've won you the battle, your majesties," replied Blaidd, holding Triss's lifeless body in his arms. He looked out towards the retreating Nilfgaardian army. "Perhaps even the war itself..."
"You've won the battle?" scoffed the same captain. "Maybe I'll-"
"That's enough," interrupted King Foltest. "Surrender yourself, cursed one. You're surrounded."
"I killed those cavalry bastards, do you really think they could stop me, your majesty?" asked Blaidd, his voice dripping with a veiled threat. He could see the fear in the soldiers' eyes, their hands shaking at the sight of him. "Besides, you don't want this one to die too, do you?"
Blaidd raised Triss's injured body, displaying her bare breasts for all the squad to see. "She's alive, barely hanging on to life. If I remember, she's your royal advisor, your majesty," Blaidd continued, looking at King Foltest with a calm demeanour.
"So, I still have one. And I could have another," replied Foltest.
"Very well, what will it be? The whole unit killed and another dead mage, or let me leave peacefully, perhaps even paying me my wage as a mercenary."
"You dare to negotiate with the king, beast?" shouted a captain, pointing his sword at Blaidd. "Your majesty, order us to attack, we'll make sure to mutilate every single one of his limbs while he's still alive."
"Enough," said King Vizimir, finally speaking up. "Leave the sorceress, and we'll let you go."
"I may be a beast in your eyes, but I'm not stupid," chuckled Blaidd. "I'll bring her with me until I feel safe from your spying eyes."
Vilgefortz finally moved, flicking his hand, launching a small magic bolt at Blaidd. Blaidd scoffed and shook it off with his other hand as if it was nothing. The sorcerer and the two kings were surprised at the sight.
Blaidd lost his temper a bit and approached Vilgefortz, growling just in front of his face, near the two kings. The pikemen and knights became alert, ready to attack.
"You think you could do something to me, sorcerer?" muttered Blaidd, his claws slightly scratching the man's face. "Try healing that using your magic."
Vilgefortz wiped the blood coming from the wound on his cheek but didn't answer Blaidd. Instead, he spoke to the two kings, "Your majesties, I think we should let him go. His contribution to the army is certainly...admirable."
"Thank you," said Blaidd with a creepy smile.
"Very well," said Vizimir. "We will give you a day, beast. After that, we'll send hunting parties to put you down like the dog you are. And the sorceress stays."
"No, the sorceress is with me as a guarantee," refuted Blaidd. "Don't worry, your majesty, I won't hurt her. I will not go back on my word."
Vizimir looked at Foltest, who nodded. "Fine, go."
Blaidd let out a chuckle as he walked away from the group of royals towards the grassy plains of Sodden. "And what about my payment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You're trying my patience, beast. Don't push me," the king warned.
Blaidd's smirk grew wider. "Then may we cross paths again, your majesties. As friends or foes, who can tell?"
"I highly doubt it," the other king replied.
Finally, Blaidd, still holding Triss as a hostage, made his escape from the army, vanishing into the wilderness.
"Vilgefortz, we need to replace the advisors I lost," the king quickly said.
"Merigold is still alive, your majesty. We may need to exercise patience," Vilgefortz suggested.