“Glok, watchout!”
Too late. I watched helplessly the heavy mobile stepladder-workbench fall over on the ornithopter’s rudder, snapping the wooden crosspiece and crushing on the floor the delicate mechanism, the toolbox’s contents scattering through the room with a terrible clanking noise.
“Oops! I… I’m sorry, Master Roldice,” said Glok with an air of consternation, the green of his face darkening. “But don’t worry, I’ll fix this!” he added immediately, rushing to try setting the stepladder upright.
“I hope so!” I retorted, exasperated, fists on the hips. “Can’t you be a little more careful? It was nearly complete!”
Since my adventures on Mirrodin, I had kept a high affinity for artifact and machines, and I was eager to try my new creation. It was not so serious, but this stupid clumsiness will cost us at least one more working day before we could… At this exact point of my thoughts, I realized that I would have to considerably broaden my lab’s window if I ever wanted to take off on my beautiful engine.
“Master, I think your crystal ball is calling,” Glok advised me, happy to divert me from his mistake.
“Hmm? Yes, you’re right. Thanks, Glok.”
I came back to my desk, wiping my hands on my tunic. Concentrating briefly, I activated the magical sphere and I was glad to see appear inside it the metallic face of my old friend Karn, the silver golem.
“Greetings, my dear Roldice,” he said to me with his deep and calm voice.
“Hi Karn! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?”
“Bad news, unfortunately,” answered Karn sombrely. “I think I’ll need your help once again. May I come and tell you about it?”
“Of course! Tinkering will have to wait. See you soon.”
I turned round to my apprentice and said sternly:
“You’d better behave yourself, Glok, we expect some visit.”
“What? Karn will come here?” replied Glok, both panicked and overexcited. “But…”
He was interrupted by a powerful wave of colorless mana, soon followed by a bright flash. A tall-human-sized mass of quicksilver had just appeared a few feet from my desk. The melting metal quickly solidified into a silver golem. Since the Apocalypse, Karn had become a planeswalker, and such magical prowess was for him a childplay.
“Roldice, Glok,” he said smiling.
“I… Uh… Gr-greetings My Lord Karn!” mumbled my apprentice, completely caught flatfooted by the sudden arrival of one of the most legendary beings of Dominaria.
“Problems with your rudder?” asked our visitor. “If I can help…”
“Thank you, my dear Karn, but it would be a pity for Glok to miss this wonderful chance to apply the maxim: ‘learn from your mistakes’.”
Karn smiled, and Glok darkened again, ashamed.
“Let’s go and talk in a more quiet place, our young friend here has work to do,” I added to Karn while opening the lab’s door.
Once in my lounge, I lit a good fire with a snap of my fingers, invited Karn to sit, and served myself a cup of mushroom juice. I didn’t offer one to my host, as golems are not specially thirsty beings.
“Since the Mirrodin catastroph,” Karn said, “I followed your advice and decided to help the inhabitants of existing planes instead of creating new ones. The problem is that I hesitate to intervene personnally, because I’m afraid that the cure could be worse than the disease.”
Karn paused, lost in his thougths.
“I see. And this is where I can play a part, right?”
“Yes. You’re a great wizard, but not a planeswalker, and thus your actions do not risk to destabilize a plane.”
“Well, it seems to hold. And I think I could enjoy a bit of action,” I said with a smile.
“Thank you Roldice, I expected no less from you,” Karn said solemnly.
“You’re welcome. And what’s the problem?”
“A few days ago, I had a vision. A vast city stretching as far as the eye can see, a feastday with rejoicing people everywhere, and the next moment, all these lives annihilated, streets and squares littered with dead bodies.”
“Hmm… Rather worrying indeed,” I said while helping myself with more juice. “And on which plane do you think we can find this city?”
“After my vision, I set out on a little trip through the Multiverse, and I eventually localized the plane and the city. It’s called Ravnica.”
“Never heard about it. Is it the name of the plane or of the city?”
“In fact, both. A long time ago, there were several cities on this plane, the mightiest of them being Ravnica. The cities grew and slowly swallowed up the surrounding lands, to ultimately fusion into a single megalopolis, stretching over the whole plane, excepted for some devastated zones.”
“My goodness! But, if there is no wild lands, where does the mana come from?”
“It’s strange,” answered Karn, “but it seems that this role is played by the different areas of the cities. Luxuriant gardens intertwined with the building act as forest, wide basins and ingenious canals produce blue mana like islands, and red mana comes from huge foundries massive as montains.”
“Unbelievable! I can’t wait to be there… By the way, did you find some clues about your tragic vision and how I could prevent it from happening?”
“Unfortunately, no. You will have to investigate yourself, but in case of emergency you’ll be able to contact me with the silver sphere.”
“All right,” I said before emptying my cup. “Well, I think it’s time to get prepared!”
Even if I’m an old goblin, I’m always carried away like an apprentice at the idea of beginning a new adventure and discover new lands. I was so impatient that I was ready in less than an hour. I advised my closest allies of my imminent departure, and left instructions to Captain Belen, the chief of my guards, so he could take charge in my absence of the day-to-day problems of the territory placed under my protection. Then, I fetched Delana, busy with her preparation of healing elixirs, and we came back to the lab where Glok had begun to fix the ornithopter. While gathering my equipment, I made some recommendations to my two apprentices, hoping they could reduce the risks to find my lab upside down when I come back.
Karn took the silver sphere he had given me some years ago. In his hands, it came to life, the multitude of its little metallic pieces reorganizing themselves in a graceful, well orchestrated dance. A few moments later, the sphere had metamorphosed into a beautiful little silver armor.
“I think this will be more useful to you than a simple sphere,” said Karn with a smile.
“No doubt. Thanks, Karn.”
I put on the coat of mail and noticed that beside its incredible lightness, it fitted me perfectly, which didn’t surprise me much. Then I slipped on my leather vest and took my magical staff.
“See you soon, kids, and be good,” I said to my apprentices. “Karn, I’m ready.”
“Very well,” he said, gently putting his big hand on my shoulder. “Safe journey, my old friend.”
I had already done it once before, but travel from a plane to another was still a fantastic event, and my heart was racing in my chest. This time, Karn had come to inform me before, and I had the opportunity to prepare myself, which would save me from landing in Ravnica in underpants like I did on Mirrodin. This thought calmed me down a little… Then the eyes of Karn shot a flash of light, and I fell into a bottomless pit.
I was falling at a breathtaking speed, lost in complete darkness. As in a dream, I saw a luminous point appear in the distance, and grow steadily until it became a wide circle, filling my field of vision. As the thing was getting closer, I could see areas of different colours appear on it, forming a mosaic of green, red, beige and blue tones. In a state of complete detachment, I then realized that it was Ravnica, that I was rushing towards it and not the contrary, and that I was thus going to crash on it soon at a velocity no goblin had ever reached before. When I was able to spot people in the streets, I closed my eyes, without even searching to avoid my imminent doom.
When I awoke, I was laying on paving stones. Strangely, I was alive and in one piece, but an orchestra of imps had taken up residence in my skull, as if I had drunk too much mushroom juice. I sat up and shook my head. It was as if the chattering of hundreds of people were buzzing in my mind, leaving no room for my own thoughts. I glanced around me, saw that my staff was a few feet away, and that I was arousing the curiosity of many passers-by, mainly humans and elves. I got up with difficulty and felt a sharp pain inside my skull. I took my head in my hands and closed my eyes with pain. Opening them again a few moments later, I saw people run away or disappear in the alleyways, and realized vaguely that something was going wrong.
“Clear off, goblin!” someone said just before knocking me back down to the ground.
One of my potion vials smashed, and I was almost trampled by a fleeing mob. I received a few kicks, hoping they were unintentional, and then somebody walked on my ankle. I cried out in pain, and shouted a bad goblin swearword. Once the rush passed, I heard a clamour rise behind me and turned my head to see that the worse was yet to come.
Another group was coming my way, but this one was not fleeing. I saw humans, goblins, and some tamed beasts, embarked in a savage razzia, destroying the shops and killing the poor folks that couldn’t flee or didn’t want to. The horde seemed to be led by a horned giant that I mistook then for a minotaur, armed with a titanic hammer. Bellowing booming roars, he was pounding the buildings themselves with a prodigious strength, and whole sections of masonry were falling down in a thundering noise among which could be heard the heartbreaking screams of buried alive occupants. Undoubtedly, my arrival in Ravnica didn’t shape up very well.
As if awaking from a trance, I managed to get a grip on myself and get my eyes off this terrible sight. People were dying, and I had to do something. I tried again to stand up, but the sharp pain in my ankle informed me it was broken. At the same moment, I heard a call and saw that a raider was pointing a finger at me. The giant turned his head and stared at me with his unique cyclops eye. Seeing me seemed to put him in a violent rage. He tilted his head back with another roar, taken up in echo by his horde. I then realized that my simple presence here, alone in the middle of this empty street, meant for the giant that I had personnally challenged him. I swallowed with difficulty, seeing him stride towards me, his footsteps shaking the ground, a savage joy sparkling in his big eye at the thought of crushing me like an insect.
I tried to channel the surrounding mana, but my mind was still crowded with parasite voices, and pain disturbed my concentration. Reaching to my belt, I seized my remaining healing potion. I drank hastily the amber liquid as the cyclops was closing on me, his stone hammer already raised to flatten me. Fortunately, Delana had worked well. Her potion took effect immediately, its mana flowing to my broken ankle, mending it and causing the pain to vanish. When the hammer fell, accompanied by another deafening roar, I rolled on the side and was flung by the shockwave. I landed a few feet away, and anger began to well up inside me. Just who do you think you are, you big one-eyed dolt? Just wait that I get my hands on you… As my enemy was shouting a new cry of rage, seeing that I had survived, I felt with an intense satisfaction the mana flow inside me again.
Without taking the time to stand up, I rolled again to lay on my back and face the cyclops. Mad with rage, he had already raised his hammer to smash me to a goblin pulp. But I was also very angry, and with this seething feeling as a catalyst, I finally could tap into the red mana of Ravnica. I held out my hands towards the giant’s weapon, and shouted ‘Frak’asse!’: the shatter spell, one of the first my master had teached me, several centuries ago. The massive hammer’s head quivered briefly, then exploded with a terrible detonation, propelling with force stone bits in all directions. This shower of stones made the colossus shout in pain and rage, and he momentarily lost his balance because of the unexpected disappearance of the weight of his weapon.
I took advantage of this second of respite to get up and rush to my staff. I grabbed it and immediately did an about-face, only to see with horror a tree trunk fly to me! The hammer’s handle struck me, taking my breath away, flinging me again to the ground and blocking me against a wall. I should have been crushed like an egg, but Karn’s armour was worth his creator, and I didn’t even have a broken rib. Nonetheless, I was pinned by the trunk’s weight, and I saw the giant approach me for the third time, slowly, more cautiously, but more hainously-looking than ever.
Despite the shock, I had kept my staff in hand, and I pointed it to my enemy’s head. ‘Lum’ierr’avhug’lent!’ I shouted, and a blinding ray of light shot from my weapon towards the cyclops’ eye. He bellowed again in rage, shielding himself with his huge clawy hand. But my opponent was far more tenacious and less stupid than I had hoped. My spell had surely caused him a great mental pain, but he kept his mind clear enough to bend down and grope, in order to finish me off one way or another. I tried to concentrate to cast on myself a giant strength enchantment, but my ability to gather the Ravnican mana had apparently reached its limits. There was still a little hope to escape when the cyclops would lift the trunk to catch me.
Just when one of his big hands found the former handle of his hammer, the giant reopened his eye, blinking, and had a wicked smile. He straightened up to his full size and put his huge foot on the tree, fixing me with a hainous look, and purposefully delaying the moment of my execution, to better savour his victory. I was certain that, as wonderful as it was, the armour of Karn couldn’t resist to the mass of this colossus. So, it was how would end my adventures and my centuries of travels: crushed like a mosquito in a unknown city by a cyclops that didn’t even introduced himself. In these last moments, I considered sadly that I would never see again my apprentices Glok and Delana, and my heart broke at the thought… which would soon be the case of my entire body.
I was resigned to my doom, when I suddenly heard a strange sound, a mix of religious choir and war cry. The cyclops turned his head, a short moment before being struck at high speed by a red and white shape. Whatever this thing was, it was powerful enough to knock the giant off his feet. Blissfully happy, surprised and relieved to escape from death so closely, I then watched the fight between the cyclops and my savior, an angel wearing a scarlet armour and crowned with a mane of flames. Without his weapon, the colossus tried to punch the angel with his massive fists, but the winged being was dodging his blows easily, retaliating each time with a sword swing. The giant understood quickly that he would lose if he kept fighting this way, so he called his troops, who until then contented themselves with watching their leader fight. The raiders rushed to help him with a savage war cry, but the angel hadn’t come alone. Behind me echoed another cry: ‘Boros, chaaarge!’. I saw then a tide of red and white uniforms running towards the horde. In a loud din of steel and war cries, humans and goblins of the Boros Legion clashed with the ones from the savage horde.
Still immobilized by the handle of the giant hammer, I witnessed helplessly the confrontation between the two groups of warriors. Perfectly disciplined and fighting in close formation, the soldiers seemed to quickly take the advantage over their enemies, despite the savagery and blood frenzy of the vandals. The fiery angel was still harassing the cyclops, and I was convinced that the powerful magical aura radiating from the winged being greatly contributed to galvanize the valour of his soldiers. But apparently, nothing was settled yet. Perched over the melee on a heap of rubble, a tattooed human was waving a staff decorated with a skull, shouting magical words…
Fortunately, someone else had spotted him, and a deafening lightning bolt ended prematurely his incantation and his life. After this new setback, the cyclops hesitated for a second, and shouted a retreat order, before leaving the battlefield taking long strides. Apparently, it wasn’t a frequent thing, and a wind of confusion blew over his troops, visibly not used to flee. Blinded by their bloodlust, some barbarians kept on fighting, and they were soon eliminated by the soldiers. The flight of the horde was accompanied by a loud cry of triumph from the Boros, raising their weapons to the sky. But as most victories, this one was very sour, because the Legion had suffered heavy losses, and I saw many soldiers kneel near their fallen comrades, a sombre look on their face.
Exhausted by their fight, the soldiers didn’t pursue the runaways. But the angel, tireless, took flight and followed them, probably to make sure they get back to their territory without causing other problems. While aide-de-camps and apothecaries were arriving to take care of the wounded, I saw a young woman and two soldiers coming towards me. The damsel’s fists were lightly smoking, and I understood from where had come the lightning that striked the barbarian shaman. She leaned over me to get my magical staff, that I gave to her without resistance.
“Get me this goblin from under that,” she said to the two men while examinating my staff.
They obeyed immediately, but had a hard time lifting the trunk. I felt with relief its weight leave my torso.
“Thank you so much,” I said to the soldiers, while one of them held out his hand to help me get back on my feet. “Well, you arrived just on time! My name is Roldice and I…”
“Garance Flamebright, Boros Legion, Wojek League. You’re under proviosional arrest for interrogatory,” said the wizard in a neutral tone.
“What? But I…”
“Let’s go!” she said simply, walking away.
One of the two soldiers left to join the healers without even looking at me, while his comrade, who had helped me to stand up, handcuffed me with a shrug and a smile of excuse and sympathy. He led me behind the so-called Garance to a big sharp-beaked bird tethered a little further. The young woman climbed in the saddle with agility, then the soldier heaved me and placed me in front of her.
A few instants later, I was flying high over the streets of Ravnica, but this time it was not in free fall, which allowed me to enjoy the view a little better. And I must say that after my eventful arrival, the short trip to the Tenth Wojek League Headquarters was for me an intense source of wonder. Seen from above, the gigantic city was really a breathtaking panorama, with its countless towers stretching to the sky, its edifices decorated with intricate sculptures and grotesque gargoyles, and its delicate footbridges passing over vertiginous drops.
Less than one minute after taking flight, our roc bird landed at the top of a high fortress-looking building. The soldiers on duty came at once to tether the bird, and Garance led me to her office following a complex path of stairways and corridors. On the wat, soldiers and officers looked at me with curiosity, or for some of them hostility, and I began to realize how tricky my situation was. Surely, it was better than if I had been crushed by this stupid cyclops, but it was out of the question that I would be left to rot in a dark prison! I had to play it tight, even more tight that I had just understood that my manacles were enchanted in order to prevent me from using my magic…
“Here we are!” said Garance Flamebright, stopping in front of a solid wooden door with a little copper plate at her name.
I entered behind her in a room furnished in a simple and functional way, probably following some regulations. Garance’s office being located in one of the highest levels of the fortress, the only window offered an unbeatable sight on the city.
The woman placed a chair before her desk and invited me to sit down. She opened a chest, put my staff inside it, and took out a little ivory rod. She waved it and pronounced some magical words, and a circle of white light appeared on the ground around my chair.
“That will make things easier,” said Garance, putting away the rod.
Still bound by the antimagic shackles, I was unable even to detect the nature of the spell, which annoyed me a lot! Obviously, it wasn’t a circle of protection. It should then be a kind of barrier… Was she afraid to see me escape?
“So… Roldice, right?” she asked me, sitting at her deck.
“Yes,” I answered laconically, and with more hostility than I’d have wished.
“Good. Before talking again about your feats again Borborygmos, she said fixing me with her blue eyes, the usual question: do you belong to a guild, and if yes, which one?”
In spite of her apparent youth, Garance had an unquestionable authority and self-confidence. What could I answer? I knew nothing of the local guilds, and make up lies could only get me in deeper trouble. As I had done on Mirrodin with the trolls of Tel-Jilad, I decided to play fair, and to tell her where I came from, why and how I had come to Ravnica. As soon as I told her that I was coming from another plane, I saw a look of amused scepticism pass in the eyes of the young woman … very soon replaced by a complete stupor. She sprang up and walked round her desk to look at the ground at my feet, and then it dawned on me that the purpose of the light circle was not to prevent me from escaping, but from lying. When she saw that it was still active, the wizard woman fixed me again in the eyes, but this time with a look of respect almost superstitious.
From this moment, the interrogatory took a different turn, Garance completely forgetting her role of order keeper for the one of the apprentice burning with curiosity, which I must admit I was far more used to handle. Sat on the corner of her desk, she asked me a lot of questions about my plane, Dominaria, and I answered with good grace. Everywhere in the Multiverse, moving from a plane to another one was a legendary event for mortals! Once her curiosity a little quenched, I explained to Garance the reason of my coming: Karn’s vision of a jubilant crowd, followed by the one of a city filled of deads.
“By Razia!” she cried out, her eyes wide open in dread. “The Festival of the Guildpact!”
She explained me that in a little less than three months, a gigantic feast would be organized to commemorate the ten-thousandth anniversary of a treaty, the Guildpact, which was the foundation of the whole Ravnican civilization. It would be the occasion of a whole month of festivities for everyone, excepted of course the agents of the Wojek League, in charge of the maintenance of public order. If a madman was planning to trigger off a catastrophe, the Festival would be the perfect moment.
Garance and I looked at each other in silence, then she went to the window, and she gaze upon Ravnica for a long moment, being prey to an intense interior conflict. Finally, she came back to me, a determined look on her face, and removed my manacles with a simple magical gesture. Instantly, I felt mana flow inside me and my perception of magical auras reappear in my mind.
“Too bad for the regulation!” she said.
“Thank you Garance,” I said with a smile. “You won’t regret this.”
“I hope so! Future will tell…”
We considered for a long moment the possible options, and we finally decided that my true story would remain our little secret. Garance was a guildmage, a situation which conferred her enough authority to recommend me to the guild and take me as her assistant. This way, we could investigate together and try to prevent the disaster Karn had seen in his vision. Garance and I made up a story for her colleagues, especially her Commander, and during the following two days, my new ally taught me all I had to know about Ravnica.
Despite my natural aversion for lying and my poor skill in doing so, I pretended to be an ex-engineer from the Izzet – the Ravnican guild of inventors – as Garance had suggested. She then grabbed the reins of the talk, and managed to convince her superiors to enlist me as cadet guildmage, after recounting my encounter with the cyclops Borborygmos.
In the evening, comfortably settled down at the far end of a small tavern, in front of a good stew, Garance and I could discuss quietly despite the ambiant hubbub, laughter and shouts. Being careful that nobody could overhear us, she explained to me that ten millenia ago, a magical treaty had been signed by ten guildmasters, called the Paruns, in order to dispatch between them the roles in the society, and bring to Ravnica a stability it needed badly in troubled times… while protecting their respective interests.
“Ten thousand years?” I said. “I hardly imagine that a society could last so long without major change! When I think about all that happened in my world only during five thousand years… An ice age, a Phyrexian invasion, an apocalypse…”
“Well, you know, we too had endured fights and disasters! But it’s true that the structure of Ravnica and its guilds remained the same for all this time, in a relative peace. I think this peace was mostly due to the constant struggle of the Boros to maintain order, while the opposition to progress is the deed of the Azorius. They are the ones who edict the laws of Ravnica, and they’re very skilled in keeping things as they are, for better or for worse. Aside from them, she said counting on her fingers, there are the Boros, which you have now the honor to belong to, and the Izzet inventors, which you are supposed to have belonged to. The Golgari, despite their several faults among which an immoderate taste for necromancy, produce a lot of food, insipid but cheap, allowing the poors to survive, particularly the guildless. The Cult of Selesnya is a community where everyone is welcome, but always seeking for new adepts. The Orzhov Syndicate, under a religious facade, are merciless usurers controlling almost every commercial exchange. The Simic Combine are nuts playing to be gods, and assume the right to create monsters, just because they didn’t manage to carry out their mission of nature protection. And finally, there are these blasted Rakdos, a bunch of fanatical demonists, that we, the Boros, keep fighting over and over again. If they form a guild, it’s the one of assassins and criminals, and I can’t figure out why they have been allowed to thrive for so long.”
“All right, I will try to remember all this… But if I’m right, that’s only eight guilds, didn’t you tell me there was ten of them at the signing of the pact?”
“Yes, according to the legend. The Gruul, of which you have met a few representatives this morning, left the city a long time ago and went back to the wild and forsaken wastes where they live, or let’s say survive, following their own rules.”
“It’s strange, I believed that your world was completely urbanized!”
“Mostly, but not completely. Some areas have been devastated by Izzet experiments that went wrong, or plagues ‘accidentally’ created by the Simic. Generally, the Gruul don’t make problems to the city, excepted when one of their leaders decide to do so, like your big ol’friend Borborygmos!”
“I see…” I said, instinctively touching my still painful ribs. “And the tenth one?”
“Oh yes, the Dimir. Mysterious and elusive, they lurk in shadow and know all of the secrets of Ravnica… If you want my opinion, this tenth guild never existed, and was included in the legend only to make a round number and act as a bogey man and scapegoat!”
“Interesting… And according to you, who could want to kill thousands of people? The Rakdos? The Gruul?”
“Yes, it sounds like the two most likely hypotheses,” answered Garance, drinking some mouthfuls of her beer before going on. “Borborygmos would probably find it symbolic to attack the center of Ravnica the day of the Festival. As for the Rakdos, they enjoy sowing terror just for fun!”
“On the other hand,” I thought out loud… “Karn didn’t had the vision of a scene of violence. People were laughing and dancing, and the moment after, everybody was dead. Which would rather evokes me a terribly powerful spell.”
“Yes… Or a lightning-speed plague,” replied Garance. “And in this case, we should rather look towards the Simic.”
During the days following my arrival, I went on with my familiarization with Ravnica, thanks to the precious help of Garance. I met my new colleagues of the Tenth Wojek League, among which a man named Agrus Kos, who according to Garance was almost a living legend among his peers. Although the goblins of the Boros Legion were mere soldiers rather that guildmages, my admission in the wojeks didn’t cause much more curiosity than if I had been a human. Besides, being myself specialized in white and red magic for centuries, I instantly felt at home with the Boros, and my adaptation went even faster.
Even if her status of guildmage allowed Garance some freedom, she couldn’t shirk her obligations. I accompanied her in her missions, and we had little time to rest! But after a week of duty, we finally had leave from barracks. We then went to Novijen, the central laboratory of the Simic, where we had managed to obtain an audience to speak about ‘an imminent risk of epidemia’. After flying over garden zones full of citerns and canals, Garance make her bird land on a particularly imposing tower, covered with luxurious vegetation.
A guard asked us to give him our weapons, and we were received by a human, whom forearms were showing disgusting blue globules. He greeted us coldly, and asked us to expose the reasons of our visit. We had decided to bluff, and Garance explained with composure that we knew that the Simic were carrying out some researches on a new form of plague, and that our superiors had sent us to have an interview with the head of the project. The man told us to wait here until he had referred our request to his superior.
After an hour, he came back and invited us to follow him. He guided us through a maze of passages ponctuated with solidly locked doors. There were no windows, strange bloated globes dispensing a sick yellowish light. As we were getting deeper in the building, the atmosphere got wetter and wetter, heavy with the smell of vegetal decay. I was feeling more uneasy each moment, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there! Passing near a door remained opened, I glanced inside the room, and saw humanoids working busily around a wide vat, connected to an engine by flexible tubings. Before our guide called me to order, I had time to see a clawed hand trying to grab the edge of the vat, a hand covered with blue globules…
We finally arrived to a huge room which bottom was a vast basin. In its center, an ovoid structure was hanging from the ceiling and the walls, by thick ropes and footbridges. We walked on one of them, and I then realized that they were not made of stone, wood or metal, but of a strange elastic material reminding me of the tentacle of an octopus, but much more rigid. When we stepped into the structure, I saw that it was made of the same substance, and I felt as if I was entering into the body of a gigantic and monstruous living creature… Four guards leaded us to a room where a lanky humanoid was bending over a vat filled with a viscous blue fluid. He had some elvish features, but his skull seemed overdeveloped and his limbs abnormally stretched. When she saw him, Garance was visibly impressed, and lost much of her usual self-confidence.
“It’s Momir Vig, the guildmaster of the Simic!” she whispered in my ear.
Someone introduced us, and the elf dismissed the guards. Near him, there was an enormous, seven-feet tall white frog, staring wickedly at us with its protruding eyes.
“Guildmaster Vig,” said Garance, bowing, “I didn’t mean to bother you in person!”
“Had you done so, you would not be here,” answered our host, taking his eyes off of the basin to put them on us. “But I prefer to take care of some problems myself, and I think I know about your problem.”
“We…” began Garance.
“I have little time to give over to you and I will go straight to the point, without you interrupting me,” said Momir Vig in a calm tone but with an absolute authority.
Probably hoping to have a goblin for its next dinner, the frog opened its mouth to show its pink tongue, and briefly pulled its eyes into its skull, before staring at me again.
“About one month ago, one of my best biomancers, a human named Sedev Derus, disappeared. I had his quarters searched, and we found working notes and vials, which after analysis appeared to contain different versions of a very efficient mix of ultra-rapid action infectious agents. But it seems that the final formula was missing. He had no way to produce vast quantities of it, but the germs contained in a single vial would be enough to kill many specimens… I mean, many persons.”
Garance and I exchanged a somber glance.
“This kind of incident would not be in my interest, and I immediately elaborated an antidote that should neutralize Derus’ formula. I already sent some of my people on the tracks of the runaway, but I never place all my eggs in the same hatchery. Here are two samples of the antidotes, bottled under pressure into these carboys,” said Vig, showing us two big metallic vials on a bench nearby.
Garance and I took them.
“If you do not manage to stop Derus before he spreads out his mixture, but that he does so in your presence, you will have a few moments to release the antidote in the ambiant air of the contaminated area, hoping it will be sufficient.”
After a short pause, the Simic boss added:
“And of course, you will not repeat to anybody what I just told you, or you will seriously annoy me.”
Without needing further explanations, we knew that it would be quite bad for us to ‘seriously annoy him’.
“Of course,” I answered on a tone which was supposed to be respectful, but tinged with mockery for his airs.
Momir Vig seemed to detect it, and he sent me a strange look.
“So, good luck and farewell,” he concluded, coming back to his contemplation of the basin’s depths.
We were led back to our roc bird, and I was very relieved to see the sunlight again and to breathe a less viciated air.
“So, what do you think of all this?” Garance asked to me, putting the vials in her bird’s saddlebags.
“My dear, he’s still more unpleasant than his frog, but I don’t see which interest he could get from lying to us, and I think we don’t have much choices but to trust him.”
Only just come back from Novijen, Garance and I searched into the central file of the Wojek League for information about the named Sedev Derus. We found several complaints lodged against him by the Orzhov Syndicate, for unpaid gambling debts. The Syndicate, beside its pseudo-spiritual functions, controlled most of the legal and illegal trade, and had the best jurists and lawyers of Ravnica.
“Well, well…” said Garance. “All the previous debts of Derus were around the thousand zinos, and were paid back quite quickly. But the last one, dating of one month and a half, goes over the twenty thousands zinos. And of course, has not been settled up yet.”
I had not been in Ravnica for a very long time, but I knew that twenty thousands zinos was a vast amount of money, even for a top level Simic biomancer. I had also learned that displease the Orzhov could lead to legal proceedings, or to other forms of swifter punishment.
“One month and a half, it matches the date Vig gave us for the disappearance of Derus,” I said. “Derus ruined himself gambling, he searched to get some money by all means, and finally found someone ready to pay him a lot of zinos for a plague of his creation. Or at least to promise him so.”
“What a bastard!” spat Garance. “All this to save his skin… If I catch him, he’ll know the fury of the Boros!”
“Yes, it’s despicable, but you know, desperate and panicked people sometimes do…”
“Oh please, spare me your morality lecture! Panic doesn’t excuse everything.”
“Sorry, Garance. I’m becoming more and more merciful with the centuries. It’s true that in my young days, I was more eager to disintegrate those who…”
I broke off when I saw the sharp look of the guildmage.
“Anyway!” I said. “The problem is now to find who could offer this bargain to Derus. Which means… we’re back to the beginning, or close.”
“Yes, and we won’t find this kind of info in the file. Let’s hope that one of my informers will know something about it…”
The next day, we came back on duty, and Garance took advantage of it to visit most of her informers, more or less commendable people but knowing a lot about many illegal cases. But none of them had heard about the one that interested us… or at least wished to talk about it. The days that followed were thus very frustrating for Garance and I. We knew that Karn’s vision wasn’t just a dream and was likely to happen, but we had no way to find the tracks of Derus. After almost two weeks of unsuccessful investigation, we were seriously thinking of presenting the whole matter to the Commander, even at the risk to unravel my secret, which would get us into other kinds of problems. But before we had done so, we were contacted by an Orzhov bounty hunter named Dalek Gerda, wishing to talk with us about a certain Derus.
Thinking it could be a trap, we were very vigilant while going to the appointment, in a tavern, but there was no ambush waiting for us. Gerda was a man in the prime of life, with very short black hair and a craggy face. He had a sword, but was dressed to go unnoticed. The hunter had been put in charge by the Syndicate to find the tracks of Derus, and like us, his investigation had led him to Novijen. There, someone had told Gerda about the disappearance of Derus, and suggested him to get in touch with us, for a mutual aid could serve our respective interests.
“And that’s what you did,” I said.
“Not on the moment,” answered Gerda. “I carried on with my investigation, I finally located this Derus and then, I decided to contact you. Usually I work alone, but you have magical abilities different of mine, and I think your help would be welcome in order to fetch Derus where he is. I don’t know why you’re searching this guy and I don’t care. Personnally, I have to bring him back to my employers, dead or alive. Are you interested by an alliance?”
“Maybe,” said Garance. “What are its terms?”
Gerda produced a quill and unrolled on the table a scroll with a long text, marked by the Orzhov seal, a strange deed for a bounty hunter, but not or an Orzhov one.
“The broad lines: mutual assistance between the signatories until the end of the mission, namely localization and exfiltration of the target under his physical or spectral form…”
“Spectral?” I said, surprised. “A dead doesn’t pay back his debts!”
Gerda looked at me, surprised.
“Derus would not be the first ghost to work for centuries for the Syndicate in order to settle up what he owes,” said the human before going on with his description of the contract. “Finally, the target will be handed over to the Orzhov Syndicate.”
“And what do we get of all that?” retorted Garance.
“Well… Tell me if I’m wrong,” replied Gerda knitting his brows, “but you want to talk with this guy, right? To do so, you have to know where he is.”
He smiled at Garance, who gave him a black look. She read the scroll attentively, seemed to find it correct, and gave me a questioning look. I shrugged and smiled. Once again, we had no choice.
“All right, it’s o.k.,” said the young woman, and she appended her signature on the contract.
I did the same, and Gerda too. Then he rolled the scroll, and opened his vest to reveal a brooch representing the symbol of his guild. When the contract touched the brooch, a grey aura appeared around it and he vanished.
“So? Where is Derus?” asked Garance.
Gerda waited a few seconds before answering, savouring his effect, then said smiling:
“In Golgari territory.”
Two days later, a small and heterogeneous group went down through the different levels of the city of Ravnica, until the most ancient and deeper ones, scarcely reached by the daylight. The Golgari’s domain was a dangerous part of the Undercity. Not as much as the Hellhole of the bloodthirsty Rakdos, but enough to dissuade anyboby from wandering there without an excellent reason to risk his life. The Golgari filled their role of producers of insipid food for the poor people, but they didn’t like people to come treading on their patch, even if it’s composed of fungus and mould.
That’s why we had taken many precautions while preparing our expedition. If we came to die, Garance had let in her office a letter addressed to the Commander, explaining the threat and asking him to contact Momir Vig. And so much for the anger of the Simic boss when he’d discover we had talked! We won’t be there to pay the consequences.
Besides our weapons, our equipment, and of course the antidote vials, we took three teardrops, white mana crystals used by the Boros, local equivalent of my healing potions, but much more rare. Dalek Gerda, equipped for fight and survival, was accompanied by a thrull named Borgluff, a misshapen being about four feet tall, with a greyish and hairless skin, and a hopping gait. Frequenlty, Borgluff stopped to sniff at the ground with his flat nose, and briefly went away from us to catch rats, toads or insects, that he swallowed gluttonously with an air of satisfaction, this improvised snacks bringing about resonant belches.
“Was it necessary to bring him along?” said Garance with a pout of disgust.
“Yes,” replied the Orzhov. “Borgluff is a trusty companion and an efficient combatant… Sorry for his misbehaviour!”
We passed through several Devkarin elves underground villages, and tried to ask some questions about Derus to the inhabitants. Everywhere, people had suspicious and hostile looks, and we came up against a wall of silence.
“All this won’t lead us very far,” cursed Garance. “Derus could be right here in this village! What if we’d begin to investigate in a more strong-arm way?”
“Hmm… We’re going round in circles, that’s for sure,” I anwered. “But let’s find another solution before being aggressive with farmers and turning all the Golgari against us.”
“Dear friends, the police mistake will wait,” intervened Dalek. “I think Borgluff has found something.”
“No kidding!” said Garance. “Another fat and juicy rat, maybe?”
The thrull had his nose on the ground and was sniffing excitedly the mossy stone of one of the path leaving the village. Suddenly, he began to hop on the spot, throwing up his arms, and he said happily to his master with his croaking voice:
“Ssimick! Ssimick!”
“Good Borgluff!” replied the Orzhov with a mocking smile to Garance. “We follow you.”
Dalek got moving behind his thrull, and I looked at my team mate with a half smile…
“Oh, knock it off!” she said, starting off again to follow Gerda.
We advanced behind the thrull for several hours. As we got further in Golgari territory, villages became more scarce, and we saw more zombies and strange creatures roaming in the rubble near the path. We arrived in an area of ruins covered with fungus, in the middle of which were lurking some zombies. They turned towards us as one man, and stared at us with their dead eyes, a cruel grin distorting their ravaged face, or what was left of them. All of a sudden, my goblin ears perceived a move behind us, but too late. Two arrows shot from above had already reached our group. I heard Dalek shout in pain and draw his sword, and saw Garance fall to the ground without a word. She was staring wide-eyed at me, filled with surprise and horror, the tip of a serrated arrow sticking out of her chest.
The next moment, two huge bats flew over us, each one mounted by a Devkarin elf armed with a hunting bow. Without an hesitation, I threw myself down on my knees near Garance to provide her assistance. My friend was still alive, but not for long. She was breathing with difficulty, and each gust of air she managed to inhale seemed to rack her with pain. While feverishly searching my bag for one of our healing teardrop, I saw the bats fly away, and the zombies come towards us.
“Roldice! Let her, we have more urgent trouble!” shouted Dalek.
Without waiting for my answer, he began to mumble magical words, while Borgluff was growling and howling, eager to fight the zombies.
“I’m coming, give me a bit of time!” I replied to the Orzhov, then I added to my wounded friend: “Hold out, Garance.”
Pain tensed her body when I broke the barbed tip, and she fainted when I removed the arrow. I activated the teardrop, a bright light illuminating it, and I applied the cure on the gaping wound. To my relief, I immediately felt under my hand radiate the sweet heat of the white magic mending the torn flesh of Garance. Borgluff then let out a bloodchilling howl: the zombies were on us, and the thrull attacked them with an incredible savagery. Dalek had also engaged with the undeads, despite the arrow in his left leg. His longsword, dark as night, was suffused with a blood red aura, and had just cut off easily the head of a zombie. The Orzhov and his familiar probably couldn’t resist for long against the superior numbers of the zombies, but before helping them, I had a score to settle: the two flying hunters had made an about-turn and were coming back without hurrying to throw a second volley. Apparently, one of them had the intention to take care of me, while the other would shoot on my allies. Perched on their flying mounts, they were convinced of their invulnerability, our group bearing seemingly no range weapon. I picked up my staff sharply and got to my feet, determined to teach them how wrong they were.
Unleashing the wave of anger I had until then contained, I felt red mana flow through my mind. I focused on my hunter, and before he had bent his bow, I threw my hand to him, shouting “Verrtijj!”. Instantly, the beast was shaken by a spasm that almost unseated the elf, and it dived to the ground, shrieking. The bat ended its spinning trajectory knocking out itself against an enormous bloated mushroom, and crushing its rider under its weight. The other hunter shouted his rage, and shot at me instead of Dalek. I threw myself on the side, and the barbed arrow that should have pierced my throat just passed through my ear. Pain stirring up my anger even more, I pointed my staff towards my enemy and shouted “Ailiss’deklairr!”. With a loud crack, two lightnings, a red and a white, shot out from my staff and striked the elf, throwing him out of his saddle and hurling his body more than one hundred feet away. At the same moment, I felt the other effect of the spell regenerate my ear. The Boros had indeed efficient spells, and I inwardly thanked Garance for teaching me some of them.
Having rid myself of the two flying threats, I transferred my attention to the ground fight. Borgluff had lost an arm, but it didn’t seem to affect him at all, and he was still fighting like a maniac. Dalek had also been wounded several times, but he was struggling hard not to fall under the claws of the zombies. Before I had the time to choose my next spell, the undeads suddenly stopped their assaults and froze, as to listen a signal known by themselves only. Although welcome, this unexpected respite puzzled me, and I explained it by the death of the two bat riders. I took advantage of it to run to Dalek. I quickly cast to myself a spell of mending hands, removed the arrow from his leg and began to close his wounds. After the chaos of the fight was reigning an odd silence, troubled only by the growling of Borgluff, still busy dismembering a zombie, who wasn’t even trying to defend himself. Dalek called back the thrull, who stopped at once but with regret harassing the undead, picked up his fallen arm with the one remaining, and came back to us, grumbling.
Only then could we discern the noise that had frozen the zombies, a deep humming growing in intensity, coming our way. Fearing a new fight, we saw a third flying creature come out of the darkness: an enormous black scarab. It was also mounted by a Devkarin elf, but she was not clothed like the hunters I had just fought, rather like a priestess. I was about to cast an offensive spell at her, but I changed my mind and draw around us a circle of protection against black magic, just in case. The zombies moved back, and the giant insect landed, raising a cloud of dust and mould. From atop her imposing mount, the woman eyed us scornfully, and when her eyes crossed mine, a shiver of repulsion ran through my spine.
“So, here are the intruders that eliminated two of my hunters. How weird.”
She stared at me again, and went on:
“I am Savra, first Matka of the Golgari. May I know what are doing two Boros and an Orzhov so far on my territory?”
Her voice was warm and pleasant, but she was speaking with the sharp intonations of people used to be obeyed at once and without discussion. I hadn’t closed all his wounds yet, but Dalek stood up straight and cleared his voice. The woman before us was probably the one who had ordered the plague to the Simic researcher, and we had to play it tight.
“Respectful greetings, Matka,” said the Orzhov, giving a slight bow. “My name is Dalek Ivanov Gerda, from the Orzhov Syndicate, and here are two guildmages the Boros Legion appointed to me to help me in my mission. I’m looking for a human named Sedev Derus, in order to bring him back for appearance before the competent courts. We mean no harm to the Golgari, and we deplore the incident that just happened, but we’ve been attacked without warning.”
“It doesn’t matter. These hunters have made mistakes, and got what they deserved. It will be a lesson for them when I bring them to undeath,” said the priestess in a conversational tone. “Anyway. I know where and with whom is the one you’re looking for, and what these creeps are up to. Follow these zombies, they will escort you to a place where you can rest. I will meet you there later, and we will talk about all this.”
Dalek didn’t answered but inclined his head again. Savra smiled, then waved her grim scepter. The beetle took off, and the priestess disappeared in the darkness of her domain. Obeying her, the zombies set off with at a shuffling tread, following one of the three paths leaving the ruins.
“I don’t like this witch, but she seems to be on our side, at least for the moment,” I said to Dalek. “Are you in condition to go on?”
“Yes, it will be ok. Borgluff will carry our young friend until she wakes up. But first…”
The thrull came near his master, and held his torn arm close to his shoulder. Dalek dipped his fingertips into the blood of one of his own wounds, and used it to draw symbols on the creature’s shoulder, while droning out magical words. I felt a little puff of black mana, and saw Borgluff’s arm knit back to his body in a few seconds. Once patched up, the thrull jumped for joy to demonstrate his gratitude to his master. Then he approached the senseless body of Garance and delicately took her in his arms.
We could then set off. Catching up with the zombies was not difficult, and we followed them for more than two hours along tortuous paths, winding through ancient crumbled buildings, mushroom fields, and a quagmire infested with mosquitoes. Although unpleasant, the trip went off without other incident than the awakening of Garance, who screamed in disgusted surprise when she realized she was in the thrull’s arms, and fell to the ground. I recounted to her what happened, and she thanked us. She was still weak, but she insisted to finish the trip on her feet!
We finally arrived to a group of buildings, visibly very old but maintained in good state. An old elf was waiting for us there, flanked by a squad of hunters with hostile looks. The elder ordered the zombies to leave, and led us to a little apartment without windows, lit up by luminous globes, where we found something to eat and drink, and water to freshen ourselves up.
“Sleep and regain your strength while waiting for the Matka,” he said.
Then the heavy door was shut like a tomb’s one, and bolted.
We were prisoners, yes, but apparently safe. Exhausted by the walk and the fight, we fell asleep quickly, as the elder had advised us, and under the vigilant watch of Borgluff, able to do without sleeping several days.
After an uncomfortable but refreshing night, the elves came to fetch us to take us before Savra. Settled down on a throne of bone and moss, the Golgari priestess was giving orders to her men. Even more than the day before, a venenous beauty was radiating from her, and Dalek himself seemed disturbed by her charm. Being a goblin, I was not affected by this kind of influence. As for Garance, she was fixing the beautiful elf with a black look and clenched jaws, being prey to a violent mixing of contempt and envy. After Dalek had greeted Savra following the etiquette, the priestess explained the situation to us, as well as her plan.
“According to my spies, your Simic had the bad idea to sell his services to the sisters of stone death, who as you probably know are our current guildmasters.”
Garance had told me that a little less than a thousand years ago, the three gorgons had taken the lead of the Golgari after overthrowing Svoghtir, the necromancer that became a zombie, and that had signed the Guildpact. The current guildmasters? The odds were that Savra was about to try to take their place soon.
“The sisters intend to spread the plague created by the Simic on the Festival day, to reach a threefold goal: wreak a terror propitious to their plans of invasion of the surface, offer a feast to their zombies to unleash their savagery, and above all produce a supply of fresh corpses ready to be called back to undeath under their orders. A bright plan I could have conceived myself!” concluded Savra with a smile.”
I then felt a violent desire to send a lightning bolt at her, that I repress with great difficulty, not just because she was our only hope to counter the plan of her rivals, but also because her archers had their eyes on us.
“However, I have other plans for this beautiful day, and I will thus help you to…”
“Other plans?” interrupted Garance fiercely. “Plans of the same kind?”
The elves held their breath, waiting for the reaction of their master. Without dropping her smile, Savra fixed on Garance a predator’s gaze.
“Don’t push your luck too far, little human,” said Savra with a calm worse than anger. “I can do without you three. One more word and I give you to my zombies.”
Dalek and I shot a reproving look to Garance, who bent her head and fortunately remained silent.
“Good. So, I will create a diversion that will drain off most of the sisters’ troops and allow you to get into their den and destroy their plague stock.”
“We thank you for the help you deign to grant us, noble Matka,” said respectfully Dalek. “In your great wisdom, would you know if the Simic traitor is still there?”
“Yes, noble Orzhov, he is still there, you can trust me…” answered Savra with a smile.
A few hours later, my two human allies and myself were hidden in an old and mouldy water main, offering us a view from above on the gorgon’s lair central room, forty feet below. Savra’s diversion had worked, but it remained here a good hundred of particularly revolting zombies, gnowing corpses or bickering at each other. Dalek had posted Borgluff a little further in the duct to be on the lookout.
“Talk about being here, he really is,” whispered Garance. “You sweet Matka really took you in!”
The Orzhov glanced at her, exasparated. Near a massive and empty triple throne, stood incredibly realist statues of different creatures, among which a human wearing the characteristic suit of a Simic biomancer.
“I can’t even bring him back as a spirit!” swore Dalek in a low voice. “Well, I guess that’s where our contract ends.”
“What?” Garance exclaimed, anger quickly letting her forget to lower her voice. “So that’s all? We made all the way to here, we can prevent these monsters from spreading in the city, and Your Lordship turns on his heel and walks away?”
“Garance! Keep quiet!” I said.
“If he believes he just has to hide behind his contract to…”
Dalek suddenly turned his head, one second before a heartrending shriek rang out: Borgluff’s one. Amplified by the duct’s acoustic, the shout echoed with force in the whole cavern. Down below, the zombies stood still, then began to let out bestial cries, eager to devour possible intruders. As in response to this clamour, a monstruous creature slithered out of an arch at the right of the throne. The upper part of its body was the one of a woman, but the lower was a snake’s one, and black tentacles were wriggling on its head. We had to act quickly, or we’d soon be overwhelmed.
“Listen! From Savra’s map, it’s this arch that leads to the plague,” I said to the two humans, showing them the entrance of one of the passageways leaving the wide room. “Dalek, can you take Garance there in spectral form?”
“For two, it will be a close thing, but I’ll manage it.”
Behind us echoed the grunts and cries of the zombies coming up the duct.
“Then go, and destroy this plague for me,” I said, giving my antidote vial to Dalek. “I will catch their attention.”
“But…” began Garance.
“They’re coming! Do as I say, NOW!”
Dalek invoked his ancestors, caught Garance’s hand, and my two allies suddenly became as transparent and immaterial as ghosts, while I cast to myself an enchantment Serra had teached me, several centuries ago. The zombies that had killed Borgluff reached our hideout, but before they could catch me with their putrid claws, I took a run up and lept into the void.
I savoured the beginning of my fall as the lull before the storm. Then I activated the broken fall charm in my staff, and bent my trajectory towards the center of the cavern. I landed with a knee and a hand on the ground, a bit heavily but with no harm at all. When she saw me, the gorgon let out a long hiss of anger, that drowned the din made by the zombies. Some of them were already dashing toward me to shred me to pieces, but they stopped short. Now I was near her, I saw the gorgon was wearing an finely worked mask, that probably allowed her to see without petrifying all her minions.
“Sssstupid Borossss! How dare you coming here?”
Arguing would have been pointless, so I could as well taunt the enemy and please me.
“I can’t say it enjoys me, but I’ve come to clean your mess,” I answered, getting up.
The gorgon hissed her rage again, and removed her mask. The zombies backed away and turned round, but some of them crossed the gaze of the monster and instantly turned into grotesque statues. Smiling, I looked the medusa straight in the eye. Serra’s magic was strong, and the bright mask of Law and Grace covering my face was protecting me from the power of my enemy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the spectral shapes of Dalek et Garance reach the entrance of the tunnel leading to the plague engine.
“I don’t fear you, gorgon!”
Calling to me red mana, I raised my arms and shouted “Peer’o’clasm!”. Around me, the air began to quiver under the effect of heat, then ignited. A flame wave spread from me and filled the whole cavern. Crouching down against the walls fearing the stone gaze, the zombies had no time to flee and the fire burned away their rotting bodies. Hearing their screams of agony, I had a glimmer of pity, soon smothered by the memory of Borgluff’s fate. The gorgon was also hit by the magical fire, and she curled up to guard herself from the flames. Still protected by my mask, I was standing in the furnace, feeling an intense satisfaction to eradicate these evil creatures. Then the flames died, leaving in the cavern the carbonized corpses of the undead and a nauseating smell of burned flesh.
But I had underestimated my opponent. The gorgon straigthened up, visibly very angry but in great form although her skin and scales were still smoking. Before I got over my surprise, she held out a hand at me and shouted “Nahtur’alliz’assion!”. I barely had the time to turn my head before a wave of green mana dispelled my enchantment. Straight away, I heard a blade being drawn from its sheath, and the gorgon slither toward me at top speed. Struggling not to give in to panic after this reversal of situation, I pointed my staff by guesswork and instinctively cast “Foodrr’!”. A lightning bolt illuminated the cavern with a deafening sound, but I knew at once that my spell has missed its target. Feeling the gorgon arriving close to me, I broke into a run to escape and earn me the time to prepare a counter-attack. But the monster was quick and hot on my heels, and I couldn’t stop anymore to cast a spell.
Desperatly searching for an idea, I runned to the triple throne and its statues, at the first row of which a greyish Sedev Derus was straing into eternity with a frightened look. I dropped my staff, and thanks to my small size, dived through the legs of the sisters’ victims on all four. The gorgon striked, but an instant too late, and its blade hit only stone. The little mineral forest offering me an unhoped-for shelter, even temporary, I turned back to retaliate. Mad with fury, my nemesis pushed the petrified Derus, which fell over and broke against the statue of a centaur just behind it. I quickly moved not to be crushed, then emptied my mind to channel some mana. I fixed the bottom of the reptilian body of the medusa, held out my hands and said “Fair’duhlah’fwa’!”. Strands of white light sprang out from my fingers, curled and winded around the monster’s body and arms, rapidly reducing its freedom of movement and anchoring it to the cavern’s ground. Mentally controlling my spell, I took great care to shackle also its eyes and mouth, then I got out of my hideout. While the gorgon was struggling to break free, trying to shout through its gag of light, I picked up my staff and runned to the tunnel leading to the goal of our quest.
Garance and Dalek had been there, as shown by the remains of a few zombies scattered on the ground. The passage finally opened onto a platform at mid-height of another cavern, at the center of which sat imposingly an enormous and crooked mass of greenish metal, topped by a big copper sphere. Steam jets frequently gushed forth from the lower part of the engine, which explained the abnormally hot and stifling atmosphere of the cavern. I then remembered seeing an Izzet engineer among the statues, probably the machine’s creator. And just above this device, I saw in the roof of the cavern the mouth of a natural chimney… It was this twisted artifact that would spread the plague on Ravnica!
Near the pedestal on which was resting the infernal boiler, Dalek and Garance were grappling with some zombies, but the undeads didn’t measure up against the skill and determination of my allies. The Orzhov was cutting them to pieces with his enchanted longsword, while Garance, suffused with a red aura, was twirling around them, striking them with her shortsword. I was getting ready to go down the stairs to join them when I perceived a movement on a second platform at the far side of the cavern. A tattooed elf wearing a headdress decorated with a skull, probably a Golgari shaman, had like me just arrived and discovered the scene. After a short moment of stupor, he break into a run toward the end of the platform, where I could see a vertical board with several levers. I pointed my staff at the elf and shouted again “Foodrr’!”, but the bolt didn’t appeared. In the heat of battle, I hadn’t realized that I had spent all my mana fighting the gorgon! This damned guildmage had to be stopped before he could set off the machine!
“Garance!”
Having just cut off a zombie’s head, she turned round and a wide smile illuminated her face when she saw I was safe and sound.
“Stop him!” I shouted, pointing the elf.As soon as she saw the running shaman, she shouted to me: “No more mana!” and she darted to the stairs leading to her target, moving at a surhuman speed thanks to her haste power, still active. But the Golgari was running as fast as his legs could carry him, and had a good lead over her. When he reached it to the board, Garance had already covered half of the platform. Sending panicked glances to the Fury charging him and yelling, the elf was hesitating between the different commands. Petrified by dread, I witnessed helpfully this race between Good and Evil, holding my breath.
Garance was just one hundred feet away from the elf… Fifty… Twenty… A steam jet briefly interrupted my line of sight, then Garance crashed headlong into the shaman, flinging him from the control board. My heart missed a beat… and my blood chilled in my veins: one of the levers had been pulled down! As to provide me a confirmation of it, a deep and low humming came from the machine. We had to do something, but what? I tore down the stairs four at a time and ran to the opposite stairs, followed by Dalek who had just eliminated the last zombie.
By the time we made it to the board, the boiler’s activity had increased, according to the deafening noise and the frequency of the steam jets. Holding her broken right arm folded against her, Garance was desperatly trying to pull up the lever to replace it in its initial position. A few feet away, the Golgari guildmage was laying on the ground, knocked off by the shock. Anyway, he’d never had told us how to go astern, admitting it was even possible.
“Try!” said Garance to Dalek, shouting to be heard despite the roaring of the engine.
Dalek caught the lever and pulled with its strength. It resisted a few seconds, then snapped. The Orzhov threw away the useless metal bar, shouting his vexation. We looked at each other with a mix of urgency, anger and helplessness. Suddenly, the whistling of the steam reached a high-pitched note and such an intensity that we had to put our hands on our ears. At the top of the boiler, the copper part had begun to spin, faster and faster. And before our horrified eyes, it was finally ejected with a big cloud of steam, and disappeared at top speed in the natural chimney to fulfill its mission and sow death in the streets of Ravnica.
Everything was lost! After all this events, this long investigation and these fights, we had failed so close of our goal, by one second! My coming to Ravnica had been useless, and Karn’s vision will happen, and even sooner than… Karn! Of course! How come I hadn’t think of him before? Maybe we could still prevent the disaster from happening.
With the ejection of the sphere, the whistling had ended, and the boiler’s humming was quickly dying down, its grim work over. I thus could talk to my friends without having to shout.
“There’s still a chance,” I said very fast. “Open your minds, and trust me.”
I held out a hand to each of them, and as Garance had a broken arm, Dalek put his arm on her shoulders to close the circle. I saw in the eyes of Garance the tiny hope I was arousing in her. As for Dalek, while he had gone far beyond the terms of his contract, I knew from his look that he was more determined than ever, and I felt than this adventure had changed something in him. Then I closed my eyes, and focused all my will on two things only: Karn, and the armor he had offered me. After two endless seconds, the artefact awoke, and Karn appeared in my mind. With a thought, I told him how urgent our situation was, and immediately, I felt him read through my memories like an open book, scrolling them like in a frenetic kaleidoscope. In one second, the silver golem learned everything about my stay in Ravnica, as well as Garance’s and Dalek’s powers and weaknesses. The instant after that, his limitless mind placed in our heads the plan he had just conceived in a split second. Then his voide echoed in us: “Caution, we’re going up.”
We briefly had the impression to fall. Then we opened our eyes to discover that we were floating in the sky, roughly three hundred feet above the surface of Ravnica, stretching away to the horizon. Below us, there was a vast and crowded market place, full of stalls. Hundreds of people, merchants, customers, strollers, guards and cutpurses, that were a few moments ago still busy with their respective business, were now looking up, curious or worried, to a whistling big copper sphere that had just burst out of the ventilation shaft at the center of the square. One second after our arrival, the sphere exploded, releasing a green cloud of ill omen.
Death was on the move, and only us could intervene between it and the citizens of Ravnica. Karn had breathed inside us a small part of his immense magical might, and mana was running in our veins, imbuing our whole being and amplifying our own powers. Each one of us knew his role in the golem’s emergency plan, and Garance was the first to act. Her broken arm healed in one thought, the young woman unlocked the two antidote vials, and dived toward the market place like a falling star. The plague cloud had partially went down, and people were already coughing hard. There was a wave of panic, the victims trying to run away from the danger, not realizing they would spread the scourge. It was Garance’s role to prevent this. Fueled by Karn, her haste power allowed her to move at a phenomenal speed, so fast that it was impossible for the eye to follow her, but she was leaving behind her a streak of saving blue gas, melting with the greenish miasmas.
But Dalek and I had no time to observe the effects of Garance’s intervention. We still had to accomplish the most risky part of the plan. Dalek’s eyes turned white, and he began to whisper ancient words of power of his guild. This murmur grew, taken up by sepulchral voices, joining in ever-increasing numbers this funeral lament. Countless translucent forms converged to the place flying as fast as they could, while the plague cloud began to spread. With their ethereal bodies, the ghosts formed a giant net around the green gas and started a complex dance orchestrated by their new master. At this moment, the modest bounty hunter was certainly more powerful than the Ghost Council of Orzhova himself. The spirits whirled faster and faster, the air movement thus created stopping the cloud’s dispersal and beginning to condense it again.
My turn had come. I concentrated intensely to channel the might Karn had invested me with. I held out my hands toward the large gas sphere enbedded in its whirling lace of ghosts, and I released the mana accumulated in me. A blinding red dot appeared at the center of the cloud, and the moment after a huge fireball filled the sky with a deafening deflagration. Like the fragments of a shattered glass vase, the spirits were violently blown away by the blast and scattered in all directions. But they weren’t vaporized, the surrounding buildings didn’t crumble, and the Ravnicans below weren’t burnt alive. For I had managed to cast two spells at the same time, combining the biggest fireball of my life with a vast protection spell, that had restricted flames and heat so that their only victim was the cursed cloud. It was still there, but had become a harmless black smoke, that lazily went up and disappeared in the sky of Ravnica.
I was overcome by an intense relief, straight away drowned out by Karn’one, so strong it was almost painful. Dalek and I gave free rein to our joy, and threw ourselves into each other’s arms with laughters of triumph, like two fools floating in the airs. Then we went down to the market place, where Garance had just finished administering the antidote. The vials were empty, but have been sufficient to cure the people present there. The guildmage went to us and threw herself in our arms, sheding tears of joy. Dazed by these wonderful feelings, we didn’t even feel Karn’s might withdraw from our minds. Around us, people understood what had happened, or at least that we had saved them, and carried us shoulder-high in triumph like the heroes we were.
After our adventure, we had to give some explanations, Garance and I to our Commander for our unofficial action, and Dalek to his patriarch for the failure of its tracking. But some influent merchants that had been present on the market on the fateful day spoke for us, and we came through all right. Skillfully manipulated by Momir Vig, rumour had it that a plague sent by the Golgari had been prevented thanks to a Simic antidote, which was true, from a certain point of vue. The miracle cure was now on sale, and the vials were selling like hot cakes.
I had become attached to my new friends, and decided to stay with them until the Guildpact Festival. I wanted to see this famous feast that we had just saved! Garance and I carried on with our service, frequently meeting Dalek Gerda at the tavern when the evening had come. The Orzhov bounty hunter was less cynical than before, Garance less belligerent, and I realized with tender feelings that a romance was born between them, despite there apparent differences.
The Festival soon arrived, but no matter our efforts, it was the scene of tragic events. If Savra had helped us to counter the gorgons, it was because she had herself hatched a terrible machination in order to take control of her guild, and lead her army to attack the surface. Like all the Boros, we fought valiantly, but many Ravnicans died. Savra managed to corrupt Vitu-Ghazi, the mother tree of the Selesnyans, but was betrayed by her accomplice Szadek, the vampire Parun and guildmaster of the legendary Dimir, believed bygone by many. Fortunately, other heroes, among which Agrus Kos, managed to arrest Szadek and to ruin his dreams of domination. But this is a different story…
Many officers having died this day, Garance was promoted in the Boros hierarchy. Soon after that, she married Dalek Gerda, and I was of course her witness. And some time later, it’s with regret that I had to bring myself to take my leave of my friends.
I reached Karn and asked him to bring me back home, and the journey back was better controlled than the outward one. I rematerialized inside my laboratory, where I was welcomed by Glok, Delana, and Karn himself. My apprentices rushed at me and hugged me with affection, under the kindly look of the silver golem. They bombarded me with questions, and I promised to tell them everything, but later. I then noticed with wonder the magnificent ornithopter located near what had been a window, now transformed into a takeoff pontoon.
“I helped a bit for the window,” confessed Karn, “but the ornithopter is entirely Glok’s work.”
I forced myself out of the contemplation of the artefact and looked at my apprentice, who turned dark green with a wide smile.
“Oh, you know, Master Roldice, even so, Master Karn gave me some useful advices!” he answered with a modesty I didn’t know he was able of.
“Well, congratulations, Glok !” I said sincerely.
Then I added with a wink:
“Karn, according to you, should we soon call him Master Glok?”
This thought visibly hadn’t crossed my student’s mind. His face was so funny when he realized the fantastic consequences of such a consecration, that we all burst laughing.
THE END
Glossary (click on the chosen word to return to the text)
Mana: Mystic energy necessary to any magic, and drawn by wizards from the lands to which they are linked, or surrounding them.
Apocalypse: Final phase of the invasion of Dominaria by the evil Phyrexians, that were finally annihilated but at the price of countless deaths and titanic destructions.
Planeswalker: Supreme level of magic power, reached only by a few chosen of destiny, gifted with the “spark”. This mysterious and innate strength is generally not detectable during its bearer's life. The spark only has a chance to ignite at his death, preferably because of a powerful outburst of magic energy. Instead of dying, the possessor of the spark then “ascends” to become a planeswalker: now nearly immortal, he has phenomenal powers and can travel between the different worlds, called “planes”. The case of Karn is a bit different: he became a planeswalker by integrating the spark of his creator Urza at his death.
Multiverse: Term designing the immensity containing all the planes.
Phyrexians: Evil metallic creatures from Phyrexia, an artificial and unstable world (or “plane”). When Phyrexia was about to disappear, they launched a large-scale invasion toward the plane of Dominaria.
Text © P.O. Barome
Illustrations © Wizards of the Coast
This story was inspired by the Magic: the Gathering™ cards from the Ravnica™ block and by the Ravnica™
cycle trilogy of Magic: the Gathering™ official novels, by Cory J. Herndon.
Contact - Copyrights - Texts © 2002-2008 P.O. Barome
Roldice Illustration © 2005 Cédric Baer - Magic Illustrations © 1993-2008 Wizards of the Coast
Banner background illustration: “Ravnica Plains” by Richard Wright © WotC - Website by Maud Silvain