Competition with the Skellige people

With Queen Calanthe's approval, Wayne excused himself from Geralt and made his way towards Princess Pavetta's table. However, it wasn't her beauty that drew him there. From the moment the princess entered the hall, a peculiar magical energy had permeated the air. While Geralt might have sensed it vaguely, Wayne, with his Elder Blood, recognized its source.

He calmly took a seat across from the princess, a move that caught the attention of the other men at the table. King Eist's eyes narrowed in warning, and his nephew, Crach, nearly rose in anger. The young Skellige prince, smitten with Pavetta from the moment she entered, had already envisioned her as his bride. As the most eligible heir to the Skellige Isles, he saw Pavetta as his by right.

Mousesack, the Skellige druid seated at the table's end, regarded Wayne with curiosity. He was an old friend of Geralt.

While others speculated about the identity of "Ravix of Cidaris," Mousesack instantly recognized the White Wolf, wondering what had brought the witcher to Cintra. As a close friend of both Calanthe and Eist, the archdruid sensed the unusual tension in the air and the subtle magical aura permeating the hall, pondering how to address the situation.

After Wayne took his seat, Princess Pavetta glanced at him curiously, and he returned a warm smile. His charm and easy manner naturally put people at ease. However, the fifteen-year-old princess was preoccupied with worry for Duny, the hedgehog knight. She offered Wayne a polite nod before returning to her thoughts.

Their brief interaction, however, did not escape King Eist's notice. Seeing Pavetta's attention drawn to another man, the protective king bristled. "Young man," he growled, "regardless of your connection to Ravix of Cidaris, you seem to be in the wrong place. Not just anyone can sit at this table."

Wayne shrugged off the Skellige king's threat. He had no dealings in the Skellige Isles and thus no need to concern himself with Eist's opinion. Moreover, he had no intention of pursuing Princess Pavetta romantically. She was the mother of the future Child of Surprise, Ciri, who was likely already conceived.

Speaking of which, Wayne couldn't help but internally criticize the cursed Duny. The man, well into his thirties, had been sneaking into the palace to woo the princess, resulting in her current pregnancy. Furthermore, Duny's intentions were suspect. It was possible his entire act was orchestrated by the sorcerer Vilgefortz, who had saved King Roegner from the hedgehog curse. Perhaps this was all part of a larger scheme involving Elder Blood.

Wayne had briefly considered eliminating Duny, but after researching the political climate in the South, he dismissed the idea. Over a decade ago, Nilfgaard had begun annexing smaller nations, building its military might in a campaign that went largely unnoticed by the bickering Northern Kingdoms.

This allowed Nilfgaard to expand rapidly, becoming a formidable empire in a matter of decades. Even without Duny's failures as emperor, civil war within Nilfgaard seemed inevitable. It was a force of history that could not be stopped by eliminating a single individual.

Moreover, killing Duny would only turn him into Ciri's enemy, the man who murdered her father. Such an act would serve no purpose for Wayne.

Maintaining his composure, Wayne turned to King Eist and replied with a smile, "Your Majesty, rest assured, I am not a suitor for Princess Pavetta, nor am I a rival to your nephew. I am here on a confidential mission for Queen Calanthe."

He then glanced at Crach an Craite, who had been eyeing him with hostility, and slowly produced several decks of Gwent cards from his pocket. With a playful grin, he added,

"This lively feast would be rather dull if it were just about eating and drinking," Wayne suggested with a smile. "Why don't we play a game to liven things up?"

The Skellige men, accustomed to long voyages and raiding parties, were no strangers to Gwent. The card game, often played for hours on end while at sea, was a favorite pastime among their captains.

Crach an Craite, the Boar of the Sea, seemed eager to accept the challenge, but first, he fixed Wayne with a disdainful look and flexed his muscled arm. "We Skelligers don't play Gwent with cowards," he declared. "If you want to play with me, you must first prove yourself in a manly contest. Choose either a drinking match or an arm-wrestling bout. You don't have to beat me, just hold your own for thirty seconds, and I'll respect you as a warrior."

Wayne couldn't help but smirk at the Skelliger's challenge. Arm wrestling or drinking with a witcher? The young man had clearly underestimated him. Not only was Wayne physically fit, exceeding the strength of ordinary men several times over, but his experience with witcher potions, including highly concentrated alcohol, had granted him an impressive tolerance for strong drink.

Likely, Crach's challenge stemmed from Wayne's attire, which concealed his witcher nature and made him appear like any other well-built youth. The Boar of the Sea simply wanted to flaunt his masculinity in front of Princess Pavetta.

As Crach boasted, the other Skellige men joined in, cheering him on and taunting Wayne.

Undeterred by their taunts, Wayne maintained his smile and turned to King Eist, who seemed proud of his nephew's bravado. "Your Majesty," Wayne addressed the king, "I've always heard Skellige warriors are passionate and honorable men. Since a challenge has been issued, I wouldn't dream of refusing. However, separate drinking and arm-wrestling contests are too mundane, not manly enough."

He paused for dramatic effect, then continued, "Let's combine the two. Anyone who wishes to arm-wrestle me must first drink a tankard of strong spirits. The loser then drinks another as a forfeit. We continue until someone from either side falls. Wouldn't that be more exciting?"

With a mischievous grin, he added, "And to make it even more interesting, let's wager a hundred gold crowns per match. The last one standing takes the entire pot."

The room fell silent. The Skelligers weren't fools; they understood the advantage lay with those who participated later. Before Crach could respond, one of his captains boldly stepped forward. "I'll be your first challenger!" he declared.

A Skelliger servant promptly delivered two large tankards of spirits and a small pouch containing a hundred gold crowns, placing them on the table.

Wayne chuckled, accepting the challenge without hesitation. He pulled a bulging money bag from his belt, containing several hundred crowns, and tossed it onto the table without bothering to count.

Such a bold move sparked murmurs among the Skelligers, who were surprised by Wayne's apparent wealth and confidence.

Unfazed, Wayne calmly picked up a tankard of strong spirits and downed it in one gulp as if it were water. He then extended his right arm, raising an eyebrow at the challenger, signaling he was ready.

The Skellige captain, a seasoned sailor confident in his strength, didn't hesitate. He firmly gripped Wayne's arm, planting his feet and bracing himself against the table, muscles straining with the effort.

In contrast, Wayne remained seated, a relaxed smile on his face, seemingly unbothered by the captain's imposing physique. This nonchalance irked some of the Skelligers while raising a sense of unease in others.

At a Skelliger's signal to begin, the captain roared, veins bulging in his forehead as he exerted his full strength to force Wayne's wrist down. His companions cheered him on, creating a raucous atmosphere that drew the attention of the surrounding guests.

The captain's efforts continued for twenty, then thirty seconds. His face reddened with exertion, and his thick arm trembled, but Wayne's arm remained unyielding, not even quivering.

After another few moments, Wayne casually picked up a goblet of wine with his free hand and took a leisurely sip, his eyes fixed on the Skelligers, whose expressions had turned grim.

Then, with a smooth and effortless motion, Wayne's arm pressed down, slowly forcing the captain's arm onto the table despite his desperate resistance. Wayne had won the first round with an overwhelming display of strength.

This unexpected outcome silenced the Skelligers, who had clearly underestimated their opponent. However, the seafaring people were not easily discouraged. Their history of conquering the seas with courage and ingenuity in the face of primitive technology spoke volumes about their tenacity.

Undeterred by the captain's defeat, the other Skellige envoys challenged Wayne one by one. Wayne accepted each challenge, downing tankard after tankard of spirits and defeating each opponent with his raw strength. The pile of money on the table grew steadily, nearing two thousand gold crowns as Skelliger after Skelliger succumbed to Wayne's might. Only King Eist and Crach remained standing.

After over a dozen rounds, even Wayne's robust constitution began to feel the effects of the alcohol. His string of victories had also drawn the attention of the entire banquet hall. Guests gathered around, their curiosity piqued, and even the quiet Princess Pavetta stole glances at the handsome young man.

By this point, the outcome of the contest seemed obvious. Even if King Eist and Crach competed, they were unlikely to best Wayne. The princes of Cintra and its vassal states looked on with amusement, eager to see the two Skellige nobles humbled.

However, Wayne had no intention of humiliating them further. Defeating a dozen Skelligers was enough of a blow to their pride. To embarrass Eist and Crach would risk jeopardizing Queen Calanthe's plans for the alliance.

He could even feel the queen's gaze, sharp as a blade, resting on his neck, a silent reminder of her expectations.

Facing the stern expressions of King Eist and Crach, Wayne suddenly laughed and swept the pile of coins into his pouch. Then, he retrieved two special cards from his pocket and addressed the Skellige nobles.

"The warriors of Skellige are indeed brave and passionate," he said, "and their drinking prowess is impressive. However, after so many rounds, I'm feeling a bit lightheaded. Your Majesty, Lord Crach, why don't we forego the arm-wrestling and play a few rounds of Gwent instead?"

He winked at Princess Pavetta, who was watching him with interest, and added with a smile, "I believe the lovely Princess Pavetta hasn't played this game before. It's a perfect opportunity for her to learn. It could add some excitement to her life here in Cintra."

Eist, ever the opportunist, quickly seized upon Wayne's suggestion. "Indeed, you are right," he declared to his companions. "Let's put an end to these crude displays of strength and indulge in a more civilized game. Today is a day of celebration for Cintra and Princess Pavetta. Let us play Gwent instead."

He turned to Wayne, a complex mix of emotions flickering in his eyes, but a smile on his face. "Come," he challenged, "I am known as a skilled Gwent player in Skellige. Let us see who is truly the master of this game."