Author: slearch

  • Deep Blue/Black Sea

    The voices in the auditorium died down as the projector came to life, displaying a tranquil maritime scene: a seal swimming on the surface of the ocean.

    Click. A single fin appears behind the seal.

    Click. The fin becomes a pair of jaws, impaling the seal on rows of gleaming teeth.

    Click. Only a tailfin remains above the water.

    Click. Tranquility returns.

    The curtain fell, and a bearded kithkin scientist shuffled onto the stage.

    “Esteemed guests, I present to you the shark. A mindless killer, it roams the seas of Shadowmoor, devouring anything unfortunate enough to encounter it. Here at Gravelgill Maritime Laboratory, my team and I have been working to harness the primal fury of the shark, to adapt the shark to a higher purpose.

    “As you know, our natural disadvantages against the merrow in our naval conflicts have been compounded by their deployment of increasingly metal forces. The swordfish, hammerwhale, and most recently the rocketmanatee have routed our forces in nineteen major battles over the last six months. It was all our brave sailors could do to pump the fist as these kickin’ rad animals tore them apart.

    “Over the past ten weeks, we have labored in secret, developing a weapon so totally sweet as to be unstoppable.”

    The scientist signaled to the technician in the back, who shone a spotlight onto a water tank, revealing the most metal image any of them had ever seen: a shark wielding an axe. The audience was in shock: a few unconsciously played air guitar riffs, others delivered body blows to their neighbors, but most could only stand still, trapped under the weight of the heaviest of heavy metal.

    “Any questions?”

    “Exactly how metal are these axesharks?”

    “Excellent question. We’ve taken a spinal tap from each of our axeshark specimens, and the results indicate that, on the Osbourne scale, the average axeshark measures approximately–“

    Before the scientist could finish, an elf from among the audience stood and shouted, interrupting him: “What have you done?! You’ve taken Ghastlord’s most perfect killing machine and given it an axe! You’ve knocked us all to the bottom of the deusdamn food chain!”

    * * * * *

    Later that evening, a pair of boggarts, undeterred by the elf’s hysterical warnings, snuck into the restricted zone of Gravelgill’s labs. The hardcore potential of the axesharks that they had seen during the presentation intrigued them, and, upon seeing the equipment at the lab, they became further stoked.

    The pièce de résistance was an enormous amplifier, so huge that the boggarts couldn’t make out the top of the device in the darkness of the lab’s high ceiling and so powerful that, even turned off, the boggarts could faintly hear the howl of a death-metal vocalist. A cable led from the amplifier to a Blight Sickle, a double-necked, twenty-four stringed guitar, which was adorned by images of skulls, redcaps, and a demigod of revenge.

    A water tank, larger than the one in the presentation room but otherwise identical, was next to the amplifier, and one of the boggarts walked over to investigate. He tapped on the glass, and a large, dark, and badass shape rushed by, startling him. He stumbled backward, tripping over the amplifier’s on switch. Grabbing for a handhold to break his fall, he caught the master volume control and inadvertently twisted it all the way up to eleven. This proved to be his undoing, because the Blight Sickle had transfixed the other boggart, who, moved by the guitar’s unadulterated essence of rock, plucked a single string.

    The noise was so loud that it was silent. The boggart next to the amplifier exploded as the sound wave rippled through him. The other boggart was blown against the opposite wall, the Blight Sickle wrenched from his hand. The tank’s glass cracked, and the axesharks, driven mad, pounded against it until it shattered.

    * * * * *

    The incident at the lab set off the station’s alarms, which woke up the scientists and their guests. Following the outlined emergency procedures, they hurried to the station’s south dock. The axesharks had already broken out, but, sensing the fear of the station’s inhabitants, they were trying to smash bitchin’ holes through the glass to reach and consume them.

    The water was already pouring in, and the axesharks were surfing toward their fleeing victims. Only three were left alive: the head scientist, a kithkin reporter, and the protesting elf. They ran to the end of the corridor and reached the next room, but before they could shut the door, an axeshark wedged itself in.

    “What did I tell you?” The elf yelled at the scientist. “We’re gonna get ate!”

    “We are almost at the south dock. There is a boat there that we can use to escape. If we can find some way to delay the axesharks, we should have enough time to push off before the axesharks can reach us. We just have to think rationally,” the scientist said. He took a moment to study his creation, but it was a moment too long: “WOOOOOO! HELL YEAH! IT’S A FUCKING SHARK WITH A FUCKING AXE! ROCK AND ROL–“

    The axeshark pushed itself further through the doorway and crushed the scientist between its wicked awesome jaws.

    “What’s your name?” The elf asked the kithkin reporter.

    “Olga.”

    “Olga, I’m Hexhunter. Run!”

    They rushed toward the south dock as the shark struggled to force its bulk the rest of the way through. They found their escape vessel, a diminutive motorboat. Hexhunter swore.

    “Here it is,” Olga yelled, “Let’s go!”

    Just then, a trio of axesharks rose out of the water and lit into the craft, tearing off chunks of wood and plastic with their axes. Hexhunter took Olga by the arm and led her back in the other direction.

    “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

    * * * * *

    Hexhunter and Olga ran through the few dry hallways toward the north dock. The axesharks, distracted by their feeding frenzies, hadn’t noticed the pair, but, just before the stairs leading up to the north dock berths, axesharks crashed through the walls between them. They turned around, but more axesharks had moved to block their escape.

    A nearby alcove was marked: “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS.” Hexhunter smashed it open and claimed the shotgun that was inside. He pumped it and fired at the nearest axeshark. The force of the blast send the axeshark back, but, further angered rather than killed by Hexhunter’s attack, it persisted in working its way toward him.

    Surrounded and seeing her rockin’ doom approaching, Olga pulled out a lighter, lit it, and raised it as high as her stubby kithkin arms allowed. Hexhunter slapped her hand, and the lighter fell.

    “Snap out of it,” Hexhunter shouted as the axesharks began to close the distance between them, “Quickly, girl. Do you know any folk songs?”

    “I used to have to sing that stuff at camp. I mostly listen to classic rock these days. Folk music is so lame.”

    “Exactly! Folk music is lame. Really lame. And it’s our only hope. Sing! Sing the lamest folk song you know!”

    Olga began to croon an almost unbearably lame folk song. Hexhunter had to resist the urge to cover his ears. Gritting his teeth, Hexhunter joined in. At first, the axesharks seemed unaffected, and Hexhunter considered that when the axesharks got him, the last thing he’d have heard would be this awful music from some backwater Lorwyn clachan. Then, suddenly, the axesharks stopped moving toward them began to flail about. Hexhunter and Olga ran up the stairs, continuing to hum the unrighteous tunes.

    They found a large research boat tied at the north dock, and rushed up the gangway. Hexhunter severed the rope with a shotgun blast, while Olga hurried to the PA system. The axesharks had recovered from their initial exposure to folk music, but Olga’s singing over the PA proved to be too much. The axesharks broke off the chase. Hexhunter took the helm and drove the boat away from Gravelgill. As soon as they were at a safe distance, the whole station, which had been rocking and rolling well in excess of capacity, exploded in a huge fireball, taking the axesharks, the Blight Sickle, and the research that had created them down to the sea.

  • GoodGamery News – Top 8 to 10

    LOCATION, STATE – Federal agents raided the top 8 of a 10-proxy Magic: the Gathering Vintage tournament Saturday evening after being alerted about the event that morning by the Trading Card Association of America (TCAA). At the scene officials collected some 80 proxy cards and arrested every player in the top 8 for copyright infringement on ten of the cards trademarked by Wizards of the Coast. Wizards official and notable green creature Maro appeared ecstatic about the win for Wizards and was quoted as saying “blithering gibberish blah blargh blah bleh blargh,” a sentiment not shared by many players or other sentient beings in general. However, at least one forgettable player willing to identify himself only as UberMexico agreed with Maro, and added “slobber slobber drool.”

    Players may have an out

    Legal experts say this is not as clear cut as copyright infringement cases in the music, movie, and software industries, where the industries are widely seen as purveyors of truth and justice. “The key differences between the industries,” says legal analyst Glayton Cilette, “are first that Wizards of the Coast does not own more money than God as is the case with the movie and music industries, and second that players do not have to pretend to agree to an End User License Agreement as is the case with software.”

    Wizards prepared to sideboard

    Inside sources say Wizards is aware of the potential issues and is prepared if the courts rule in favor of the players. “We were going to have to reprint Tarmogoyf eventually anyway, because it was a Time Shifted pre-print”, says Deep Throat, “so our lawyers crafted an ingenious plan to reprint it with an End User License Agreement.” According to gameplay expert Starles Charling this plan may work. “Almost every deck in every format has to play Tarmogoyf or lose,” Starles says, “so there is really no way to get around the EULA.” Other noted experts Yarvis Ju and Pan Statton disagree. Yarvis cited that “Tarmogoyf is not heavily played in Vintage”, the format where copyright infringment is most prevelant. Statton disagrees on a separate basis. “Even though players must play Tarmogoyf or lose,” he said, “some players may still choose to lose.” He added that Wizards would “need to print the EULA on any hate cards that exist for Tarmogoyf.”

    1. Grant of Limited Use License. If you agree to this License Agreement, a magical creature (hereafter known as Tarmogoyf) will be able to come into play and wreck house. If your mana pool meets the minimum requirements, Tarmogoyf will enable you to smash face by turning sideways and devouring all creatures in its way. Subject to your agreement and continuing compliance with this License Agreement, Wizards hereby grants, and you hereby accept, a limited non-exclusive license to put Tarmogoyfs into play and smash face with them.

    2. Terms of Use. You may not put cards in your deck, sideboard, or into any play zone which were not printed by Wizards of the Coast. If you do put a card into your deck, sideboard, or any play zone, it must have the same name as it did when printed by Wizards of the Coast, regardless of any Sharpie markings indicating otherwise. If you do not agree to the Terms of Use you may neither put Tarmogoyfs into play nor smash faces with them.

    3. We are just crossing our fingers and hoping nobody realizes they can simply proxy Tarmogoyfs to avoid agreeing to the License Agreement.

  • Magic Arcana: I Want to Ride My Charcycle

    (from MagicTheGathering.com’s Magic Arcana)

    As you no doubt have seen at your prerelease, there’s a 10 card cycle in Shadowmoor based on an updated wording of our old favourite Char:


    R&D noticed a trend among players discussing new cards – they would relate them sometimes nonsensically to previous cards. For example, players would say Brute Force was the “red Giant Growth”, Purge was the “white Terror”, Browbeat was the “red Fact or Fiction”; they would even say things like Remand was the “blue Time Walk”. You can see that the naming of this cycle steers this type of moronic discussion in the right direction; the other cards in the first half of the cycle whether they are old or new, common or rare, have all been updated with a new type and clearer name:


    While Shadowmoor was being leaked in perfectly controlled amounts, someone on a message board commented that this card:


    was “like a blue Char.” A little narrow minded, but I guess hate will always exist in peoples’ hearts. At any rate he was mostly right and like all cards in the second half of the cycle, it has a hybrid mana cost. We feel that this part of the cycle really showcases the hybrid theme of Shadowmoor and also whatever theme Char has.


    This double cycle spans 5 rares, 3 uncommons and 2 commons – this is clearly terrible design and the person responsible will be sacked.

    – Magic Arcana

  • NJ’s Shadowmoor Constructed Review

    Check out NicotineJones’ Shadowmoor constructed review here.

  • And Now for the Other Crap II

    So as an attempt to create more content for the hallowed front page at GG, I have decided for this submissions theme as an attempt to further clean up my reputation at being such a belligerent asshole/troll to so many people(1).

    Ah yes, my first account at Misetings(2), Darigaaz (3). Today still most people still refer to me as this, even in real life. It’s kind of odd really, considering it was really the first forum I have ever posted at on a regular basis. It’s funny; it was like I had my own little claim to fame in a small community. Like troll stardom. In meeting people at tourneys, upon conversations(4) they discovered that I posted at MT, and when I announced my nickname(3), it was like “OMFG, YOU’RE DAR??(3)(5)

    *shrugs*(3)

    Its funny how people are shocked I act nothing like “Dar(3)” during live conversations(6), sure there is the typical stupid humor etc. But really, the “beats” are not there(7).

    Sadly it became more habitual to treat everyone like shit(8) on the forums, and when I tried changing my posting style/changed my nickname; I never really fit in(9). So I wound up just going back to Misetings(2) something I was comfortable in doing.

    So, I would like to take this moment(10) to let everyone know, that I am not like this in the “real world(11)“, and that I would like to apologize to any of you that I may have really upset or offended(12), it I may have been misconstrued as intentional, I really did not mean a word(11).

    Take care and be well (1)(10)(11)(11)(11)(11)(11),

    Greg.

    1. I really don’t care. Just thought I would try to make you feel a little better.
    2. Sucks. But I can’t let it go. It’s like my wife, old, beaten and abused, but has become somewhat useful for taking out my frustrations on.
    3. Say my name. SAY MY NAAAAAAAAAME.
    4. Forced conversation, as I had to sit across from the snot nose mouth breathing asshats anyways.
    5. Yeah, I am, you wished for me to say Annorax? Christ.
    6. When I have messenger on. This isn’t very often, because many of you are fucking annoying as hell.
    7. It’s because I wind up pitying you, and figured I couldn’t possibly pound on you anymore as I feared you would kill yourself and then I would have my chat logs given to the police and held accountable for offing yourself. As I feel my argument of “useless sack of shit and a waste of breath” would hold up in a court of law, I couldn’t be hassled with flights and the time it would take away from playing World of Warcraft.
    8. LOL, not really, I was just born an assohle
    9. I never put much effort in, because I really didn’t care.

    10. Trying to hurry this bullshit up, as I have to take a massive dump.
    11. LOL
    12. fuck you Psygno you fucking lemming.

  • PS Elves Yu: FNM Report

    The story of an FNM with B/G elves!

    First a decklist:

    This is going to be a significantly shorter report than my last one, and I apologize for this (but, what can you expect from a 3 hour tournament on Fridays?)

    Round 1: Steven Gorrie (U/B Faeries)
    This guy kind of plays slow in general, but is an OK player.

    Game 1: He gets stuck on 3 mana, I get turn 2 perfect, turn 3 perfect, turn 4 Colossus, and the game ends veryyyyyyyyyyyyyy quickly!

    Game 2: He mulligans to 6 on the play, misses his 4th land drop, so I don’t play stuff until I can deploy 2 threats per turn to play around counters.

    Round 2: Yoel Iszak (G/B/W Doran)

    I knew what he was playing beforehand, because we talk a decent amount online…;_;

    Game 1: I keep the following opening hand which is slightly suspect: Forest, Forest, Pendelhaven, Llanowar*2, Boreal, Perfect. My first few topdecks are all black cards, then I finally draw a palace, when my hand is 2 profane commands.

    I proceed to lose the the massive amount of faerie tokens being produced by bitterblossom.

    Game 2: Turn 1: Palace, Llanowar. Turn 2: Treetop, play goyf. Turn 3: Play Goyf, thoughtseize his inversion, attack. Turn 4: Garruk, untap 2 lands, play vanquisher. The game ends pretty quickly after that.

    Game 3: I get a fairly good draw, turn 1 llanowar, turn 2 vanquisher, but he gets a draw with turn 2 doran, turn 3 bitterblossom, turn 4 inversion. He eventually lets me overcommit into a damnation, where he can recover by attacking with 2 treetops and faerie tokens :[

    Round 3: Chris Denault (Mono-red burn).

    Game 1: I keep a kind of slow hand after mulliganing to 6, and get promptly destroyed by turn 1 suspend gargs, turn 2 marauders, turn 3 crusher, turn 4 burn my guy, turn 5 burn my guy.

    Game 2: I side in the 3rd colossus, both primal commands, and the 3rd terror for 4 imperious perfect, and 1 wayfinder. My draw involves a turn 3 colossus, turn 4 primal command, finding another colossus, turn 5, kill his martyr of ashes and play another colossus. He loses pretty quickly to 8/8s after that.

    Game 3: He mulligans to 5, and I play a colossus which does not die.

    Kind of a short report, I know, so a bonus decklist!

  • New DCI Promo Announcement: LOLSpellz

    I would like to take this opportunity to announce a new promo Wizards of the Coast is offering to players who regularly attend Friday Night Magic and other Magic: the Gathering tournaments. The textless promos have been hugely popular, but unfortunately some players forget what a card does when it has no text printed on it. So we have made a comprimise: We will offer you a hint as to what the card does, but we won’t waste your time with the exact Oracle text.

    Sound sketchy? A few years ago we had a mistake in the templating deparment and a card went out with very strangely templated text. The card? Nekrataal.

    Since that time, our research has shown that, of all the cards we have printed, we get the fewest rules questions about Nektrataal. If we were to write a FAQ about Nekrataal, it would have one question on it: Does a Nekrataal can kill? Presumably players find this templating very easy to understand because its rules text hits the sweet spot between cumbersome accurracy and nonexistence. So we have replaced the textless cards promo with the new and improved LOLSPELLZ promo. Here’s what you can look forward to in the months to come:






  • The HMS Titanic: What Really Happened?

    Nintey-six years ago today, the ocean liner HMS Titanic slipped beneath the frigid waters of the northern Atlantic, taking some 1500 souls with her to the sea floor miles below. The cause of this tragedy has been long attributed to a collision with an iceberg. However, we here at Good Gamery have a different theory as to what sank the “unsinkable ship”.

    The following is an artist’s rendition of what might have really happened.

  • The Downtime Diaries

    Day 1 without MODO

    Looks like v3 is up for review today, just in time for them to pause the countdown again. Worth is “highly confidant” that “[they’ve] got their ducks in a row,” whatever that means. At any rate, the v3 client is still ugly as hell, even after reverting the UI to the v2 layout. It’s a good thing this process has some oversight: without their bosses there to talk them off the ledge, they might have actually released this “work in progress” to their paying customers.

    Day 2 without MODO

    Well, it looked like someone didn’t get the memo, because MODO has “gone dark.” Maybe it’s for the best. Forcing white in LLM was starting to get a little dull. Besides, it’s the middle of rumor season. Maybe I’ll check out MTGSalvation and see what Shadowmoor has in store for us.

    Day 3 without MODO

    It’s been a couple of days since the last time I attacked for two. I admit, it’s a little stressful, but this experience could work out for the best. The players at MTGSalvation are happy to share their insights about the new cards, which could give me the edge I need to start winning Shadowmoor drafts as soon as the set is released online. That Twilight Aura card looks like a lot of fun, but some of the Salvation posters are concerned that it’s too good and might be banned from draft. We’ll see what happens.

    Day 4 without MODO

    I cracked a pack today. It’s been four, maybe five years since I quit, but as soon as I caught that new card scent, it was like I was back in 1994 again, tapping creatures with Icy Manipulator and finishing them off with Royal Assassin. Anyway, my first pick was… all of them! I opened a Cryptic Command, which I couldn’t resist rare-drafting, but then I put the rest of the cards down, and they just stayed there. It was the strangest thing. Next, I took a Nameless Inversion, which was really the “right” first pick, except that I knew I could get a bunch of tickets for Command and would still end up playing it if I were passed enough blue. After the Inversion, I took a Wizened Cenn. Bad signaling, maybe, but I never miss an opportunity to draft white in this format. Next, I grabbed a Lys-Alana Huntmaster. I thought green might be open, but I didn’t see anything else good in that pack. I was concerned about going after white: the Goldmeadow Harrier I’d passed came back around, but I didn’t see any other good picks for the kithkin deck. That theme continued through the next two packs, and this turned out to be my worst draft ever. My pool was divided more or less equally between all colors, I had to play a bunch of bad cards for lack of playables, and, naturally, my mana base was a mess. I was sure I’d take an embarrassing first-round loss, but, somehow, my match never started.

    Day 5 without MODO

    My nerves are getting worse. I’m cracking packs every couple of hours now, but every deck I draft is the same: five colors, not enough playables, hardly any tribal synergy. Have I lost my touch? Will I still be able to 3-0 when MODO comes back up? At least Salvation is living up to its name. I don’t know what I’d do without it. I’m working on a post-Shadowmoor standard deck called “Twilight Elf Stompaz.” As you might have surmised, it’s based around that new card, Twilight Aura. Between that and Gaea’s Anthem, even my Llanowar Elves will be able to stomp face. (Hence the name.) I’m hoping to pick up some Mossbridge Trolls. The Twilight Auras will make my creatures huge, and when I have ten power’s worth, I can double that into +20/+20. I hope that Troll won’t be a chase rare like they’re saying or, worse, banned. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re sick and tired of losing to unfun decks like Faeries and Reveillark. It’s time Wizards gave fun green decks a chance to compete and win in serious tournament play.

    Day 7 without MODO

    I nearly threw up when the thread was closed. Twilight Aura, a fake? Sure, the text didn’t line up exactly right and the picture didn’t match what we knew so far about the Shadowmoor world, but I can’t believe that Wizards would fail to print a card that so perfectly fits into my favorite deck. My new friends at Salvation try to console me, but they can’t fill the hole in my heart where Twilight Elf Stompaz had until now resided.

    Day 10 without MODO

    Last night, I dreamed that my opponent had Oona, Queen of the Fae out, and activated it right after I declared attackers. Fortunately for me, he didn’t remove enough green cards to stop the lethal damage coming his way, but then, all of a sudden, the Twilight Aura on my tapped Forest disappeared and he was able to survive at 3 life. Then, he attacked back for the win, and when combat damage went on the stack, I woke up in a cold sweat.

    Day 16 without MODO

    The shakes have gotten unbearable. I’m only able to eat at all because, right after I open a Lorwyn pack, I can hold steady long enough to dial Sal’s Pizza and order enough to keep me going for another day. Raúl just shakes his head at me when he comes to drop my pies off. We went to high school together, Raúl! I was the class president! What gives you the right to judge me?

    Day 22 without MODO

    I don’t even look at the cards anymore. How can I face them, those noble kithkin and mighty giants staring back at me? I just let them spill onto the floor. I spend hours huddled in the corner, trying to remember what it felt like to alpha strike. I can’t; all I can do is sit there and cry and cry. My money’s running out. What I am going to do when I don’t have any packs left to open?

    Day 47 without MODO

    Fake! Fake, fake, fake. You’re all fakes! What’s that, you say? Your text checks out in the Orb? You can’t fool me! You think I didn’t notice that your text was misaligned? You think I didn’t notice that you’re a human, when in fact there are no humans in Shadowmoor? Or did you think I’d believe you were a planeswalker? Ha! Don’t make me laugh. Ha! Don’t make me laugh again. Ha ha ha ha ha! No, really, please, I don’t think I can stop. No! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…

    This was the final entry. Please take a moment of silence, in remembrance of this anonymous MODO player and all the dudes he left behind. He’s drafting in a higher queue now.

  • Shadowmoor Nights, Part II

    Continued from Part I

    Sid untapped to find himself tied to a dolmen. He looked over to see an enormous foot, which he recognized as belonging to Hugo Rhodes, the giant who’d murdered his secretary. As he struggled, he heard a voice, high above him, laughing.

    *****

    As far as Sid could tell, the only reason Hugo hadn’t yet removed him from the game was that the giant enjoyed watching him struggle. Hugo had protection and, with it, the luxury of slow-rolling the win; there was nothing Sid could do about it. With that realization, Sid relaxed and awaited his fate.

    Being a red creature, Sid had never given the removed-from-game zone much thought. He’d always known, in the abstract, that every creature ends up on the Farm sooner or later, but when the world got ugly, he’d have a drink, tap some red, and swing. Even when Ingrid took lethal, Sid didn’t stop to mourn: he went after those responsible, and, after the favor of the mighty foiled his quest for justice, the bottle gave him protection from reality. Now that Sid had the time to consider his situation, he realized that he wasn’t afraid. Faced with his imminent death, the undying rage that had driven him to revenge and then frustration began to seem like service to a fallen ideal, a mistake he was quite ready to correct if only he could find some kind of way out of this. Something within his nature was changing; he felt a new, darker sense of purpose, but, still at Hugo’s mercy, there was little he could do but stare into the distance.

    He considered his position. He was tied to a dolmen in the middle of what seemed to be a large swamp. Though the giant’s lands were tapped, Hugo was holding enough cards to burn Sid out as early as next turn, when the mountains would untap. His hands tied, all Sid had were his wits. Far off, Sid could make out a large scarecrow carrying vats of acid for its kithkin masters. Overhead, a large group of faerie tokens was harassing some elementals. The giant’s rumbling laughter was coming to an end, and Sid knew that this turn would be his last unless he could act. Suddenly, Sid realized that he had the means to defeat Hugo right now!

    Sid swore at the giant, in the most vulgar language he could muster, instructing the giant to perform a number of anatomically improbable acts on himself. Unable to make out the words, Hugo bent down, sizing Sid up with eyes nearly as tall as the flamekin. Sid repeated his curse, which elicited a gale of laughter that nearly toppled the dolmen, only to stop abruptly as Hugo’s expression shifted from amusement to confusion to anger.

    Alarmed, the giant looked up: one of the elementals had died, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries, only to be replaced by another elemental and a body double of the first elemental, who promptly committed suicide after first killing one of the faeries. In short, nothing was happening up there.

    Then he looked over to the kithkin and their scarecrow. Howling with rage, he flung the nearest cow at them, but the giant’s ire had no effect: the huge scarecrow, an even more expensive play than Hugo Rhodes himself, had gained protection from all colors. Losing that same protection meant that he’d become vulnerable, allowing Sid’s profane command to reduce him to zero toughness.

    “What a sack,” roared the giant, turning back to Sid. “Obviously you would get that! Obviously. Obviously. What was that, your only out? So of course, I leave myself open for one turn, and you have the one card, the one card in the whole format that would turn things around for you. Better lucky than good, I guess. Ugh, oh my God!”

    His whining finished, Hugo stood still, in defiance of his looming defeat, for exactly ten minutes. Then he died, and Ingrid returned from the graveyard to play. After her summoning sickness wore off, she freed Sid. Together, they began their long trek back to the city.

    *****

    The flamekin detective and his kithkin secretary made the trip in silence. By the time they reached Sid’s building, it was already the first main phase, and Philip Barksdale, Sr., the stooped-over old treefolk who served as the building’s doorman, was there to let them in.

    “This place has changed,” Ingrid said as they returned to Sid’s office. “You’ve changed.” She glanced around the room, which had suffered in her absence. She looked at Sid with concern. “How long have I been gone?”

    Sid lit up a cigar without answering her. Between long drags, Sid related the news since her untimely and unexpectedly temporary death. Ingrid shook her head as he related the ruse in which Larissa de Feuilledor, the elvish femme fatale, and Conrad Finn, the merrow Mafioso, had ensnared him.

    “I had been on my way back to this office to warn you. I was looking into some records on the Oakenfold case, trying to identify the boggarts responsible for destroying Mr. Oakenfold’s forest. Apparently, they had a record; they had also been involved in arson, setting fire to some scarecrows. It was a dead end, though: the whole crew had been sacrificed, so there was nobody left to pin it on. But what caught my attention was a missing page, which should have described the sale of a forest to an unknown buyer. That led me to Hugo Rhodes. According to my source, Rhodes acted as an intermediary in the sale of the forest to Conrad Finn. That made me even more curious: why would a merrow be interested in a forest? Clearly, Finn used Rhodes, who was red and green, so as not to arouse suspicion about the land sale.”

    “Why did Finn want the forest?”

    “It’s not the forest Finn wanted. What’s a merrow going to do with green mana? Cast a Llanowar Elf?” She chuckled at her own joke, but then looked at Sid, who showed no reaction. Abashed, she continued: “It was what was on the forest. An aura. A Twilight Aura, to be precise. I had never heard of it. I checked it out in the Orb of Insight, which seemed to corroborate the rumors about it. Supposedly, it’s a green and white aura that enchants a plains or forest, and, while that forest is tapped, gives creatures +1/+1. The details are a little sketchy: the Twilight Aura seemed to be enchanting a leafy stretch of forest, even though Shadowmoor’s trees are bare, and the text describing the aura seemed like it might have been a forgery. Still, that didn’t seem to dissuade Finn.”

    “Why would Finn need an anthem? He’s a merrow. He already has access to three in his colors.”

    “Exactly. All merrow have access to three, which means that no particular school of merrow can get bigger than any other. But Finn got ambitious. What if there were a fourth anthem effect, an anthem that only he had access to? His men could get huge, as big as giants. He’d have enough of an advantage in the mirror to bring all the merrow schools under his control. Then, who knows where he’d go from there. Anyway, after I found all this out, I rushed back to tell you. The last thing I remember was a huge shadow hanging over me, and then seeming to fall through solid ground. The next thing I knew, I was with you in the swamp, next to Hugo’s body. It figures that you went straight to Finn’s place. Red creatures,” she sighed, “Where would you be without me?”

    “We need to find out what Finn’s up to now. Who was your source about the land sale?”

    “You’re not going to like it.”

    “Ingrid, please—”

    “It was Tess de Feuilledor.”

    “The one-drop? Larissa’s sister?”

    “The same. Do you know where to find her?”

    *****

    The Springleaf Drum was easy to find. Just follow the smell of lotus. Girls come to Shadowmoor from all around Lorwyn, expecting to find fame and fortune in the big city. Most of them end up in casual decks: a lucky one might get to put on an aura or three, but most of them end up chumping fatties, day-in and day-out, until they rotate, only to be replaced by fresh faces from the next set. As for the rest, if they have the looks (and lack the shame), the Springleaf Drum can get them mana of any color they like, whenever they like, as long as they’re willing to tap for it. Recent events had changed him: now a red and black creature, he was wary. The girls at the Drum might look like white creatures, but Sid knew they’d have deathtouch and first strike.

    As he went to enter the club, Sid was double-blocked by a pair of merrow bouncers. He glanced at Ingrid, whose eyes glowed: Sid got +1/+1. The merrow were no match for that combat trick, and Sid brushed them aside, drawing a card in the process. It had been a long time since Sid had gotten his last three-for-one. It felt good.

    Sid looked over at Ingrid, who was hesitating. She was mono-white; as his secretary and sometime research assistant, she’d been to some rough places, but the Drum inspired a different kind of discomfort. Realizing that he was waiting for her, she blushed and moved on. Together, they entered the club.

    TO BE CONTINUED