


In a land where shadows whisper and swords gleam bright, Stands a sorceress of fire, a beacon in the night. With hair like flames and heart of gold, Triss Merigold, a story told.
From the halls of Aretuza, where magic's taught, To the fields of battle, where wars are fought, She heals the wounded, the broken, the lost, With potions and spells, at any cost.
Through trials and strife, her spirit won't break, A loyal friend, for justice's sake. Her love for Geralt, tender yet strong, A bond that endures, where both belong.
In Novigrad's alleys or on Skellige's shore, Her courage and kindness mean so much more. For in a world of monsters and men, Triss Merigold stands, time and again.
With wit and wisdom, she faces her fate, A guiding star, a trusted mate. So, here’s to Triss, with grace and charm, A sorceress who keeps the world from harm.

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