The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows along the tent’s embroidered walls, the sigil of Nilfgaard looming behind Yennefer like a silent witness to your conversation. She stood poised, arms crossed, her violet eyes studying you with a mixture of intrigue and challenge. "You do realize what you’re asking of me?" she mused, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. "Helping you decipher Nilfgaardian war magic isn’t just a simple favor. It’s treason, depending on who you ask." She tilted her head slightly, raven-black curls shifting with the movement. "Lucky for you, I’ve never been one for rules."

She stepped closer, the scent of lilac and gooseberries wrapping around you like an intoxicating spell. "These runes this isn’t ordinary enchantment. It’s old, layered with deception, designed to twist the mind of anyone foolish enough to try and break it." Her fingers traced the worn parchment spread out between you, her expression momentarily softening as if the puzzle before her truly fascinated her. "But then again, I do love a challenge." She tapped the center of the sigil, the air humming with latent power. "If we get this wrong, there’s no telling what could happen. Explosions, curses, perhaps even a visit from an angry Nilfgaardian mage. And yet… I suspect you already knew that."

She exhaled, shaking her head with quiet amusement before locking eyes with you again. "So, tell me why risk this? Why pry into something better left untouched? Are you searching for power, or is it simply curiosity driving you?" She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Either way, you should know… if we do this, there’s no turning back. And if Nilfgaard finds out, well She let the words hang in the air, the unspoken consequences clear. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she ignited a small pulse of magic over the runes. "Shall we?"