This world is full of mystery, fraught with danger and adversity. Some thrive in it, but
most just suffer. The common folk are those who are usually dealt the short end of the
stick in this dog-eat-dog reality. Of course, there's also the opposite end, where the rich
and powerful dwell. But even among them, there are exceptional individuals. Those who stand
out in a crowd not because of the jewels they wear or the crown resting on their heads.
I am talking about mages. Sorcerers. And especially, the sorceresses. Ever since Jan Bekker first
tamed magic five hundred years ago, these individuals have been gaining power and influence,
carving out a niche for themselves. Humans didn't master the arcane instantly - It took
years and much of it was gained from the elven mages at Loc Muinne, where the first Sources,
child prodigies and natural conduits for magic, were taught its secrets.
With power came strife and rivalry. Priests, druids, and even kings felt threatened by
the rising power of the sorcerers. Rather than risk open hostility, they negotiated,
created a compromise. The Novigrad Union was the result: A treaty that established the
separation of magic and state, and formalized the principles of non-aggression between magic
users and the rest of the world.
Who knows, maybe they even respected the treaty for a few years after their signatures dried
on the parchment.
It definitely didn't stop the mages, not by a long shot. They have snaked their way into
the good graces of kings and nobles. You could hardly come into court and not notice a woman
or a man, standing on the sidelines, observing, taking notes. They were everywhere power could
be had. But some wanted more. Perhaps it's this greed that motivated Vilgefortz and his
cronies to betray the northern kingdoms on Thanedd, during the largest meeting of magic
wielders of our time.
His betrayal destroyed the community of magic users in the North and the trust that existed
between them and the rulers. It came just as Nilfgaard crossed the Yaruga River, beginning
the second Northern War.
The sorceresses rose from the ashes, salvaging what they could. And succeed they did. Just
look at Redania, its leadership decapitated with the assassination of their King. Philippa
Eilhart and the royal spymaster, brought it to heel with blood and magic, a sign of things
to come. Rumor has it that the surviving sorceresses formed a secret Lodge, to control the Empire
and the Kingdoms, guiding them both to peace and prosperity while latching themselves firmly
on to the structures of power. They say they orchestrated the battle at Brenna, where Nordlings
and Imperials bled each other so much the grass grew crimson in the coming years. Of
course they also say that the Emperor used to be a giant hedgehog, so make of it what
you will.
What I know is that the sorceresses came out of the war with their heads held high, rather
than feet forward. More beautiful, more powerful, and prouder than ever. They weren't always
that beautiful or that influential of course. I know for a fact that Yennefer of Vengerberg,
the stunning dame with raven hair and scorching fire in her heart, was once a hunchback.
If you ever meet her, look into those eyes and you can sometimes see an abused, envious cripple
looking back at you.
Impossible you say? Hard, but not impossible. Mages opted for the old, mature look, but
the sorceresses knew that to maintain the brand, you had to look the part. The girls
that went into the school of magic, no matter how average looking they were or what defects
they had, came out stunning. They could be a hunchback, have a hare lip, buck tooth,
flat feet, the elder sorceresses would fix them up with magic. Straighten out the bones,
shrink the teeth, realign the faces, remake the back. It's the same magic that returns
eye sight, restores scorched skin, brings people back from the brink of death. It can't
save those too far gone, as a certain sorceress learned during the battle of Sodden in the
first war, when a spell ripped off all her limbs.
You would be wise to remember that the power these beautiful women use, the power they
think they tamed, is a primal force that gives and then takes away. The Empire learned that
the hard way at Sodden, even though they had their own mages, brought to heel by the Emperor of Nilfgaard.
The Nordlings too learned it, when Kaedwen invaded Aedirn a few years back,
and a sorceress named Sabrina Glevissig annihilated the armies of both kingdoms, allegedly on
the orders from the Lodge. We cannot ask her if this is true – the king of Kaedwen burned
her at the stake.
I think, my friends, this describes life in the Northern Kingdoms well: A balancing act
on the edge of a pit of vipers.
But that- is story for another day…