The Brother's War Lore and Art compilation

 Welcome back to the past!  The Brother's War expansion features the events on Dominaria that led up to the main Magic story,  from Urza and Mishra's past to how our modern planeswalkers are meddling with time to learn the answers to stopping Phyrexia, again.  

 

Story of the set, The Brother's War

Main Story (of the past): 22AR - 69 AR.  For those that don't know, AR stands for Argivian Reckoning, measuring the start of the 'modern' era of time with the year of Urza's birth.  Urza was therefore born in year 0, and Mishra in year 1.  Urza and Mishra's final confrontation and the Sylex blast was in 63 AR.  Current magic story is in the year 4562 AR. 

Much of this story shows the aftermath of the Brother's War, and stories to the side or around the Novel, The Brother's War by Jeff Grubb. 

1. The End  69 AR

2. The Beginning 69 AR - 85 AR

3. Sword One 28 AR

4. The Ink of Empires 44 AR

5. As Cruel As Necessary 22 AR | 44 AR | 63 AR | 69 AR | 4562 AR

Side Stories

The side stories are set in present day, 4562 AR, with Teferi and the other modern walkers building the plan to determine how the Golgothian Sylex is used to explode.  Teferi uses a device invented by Saheeli to visit the past times as a ghost. 

1. Stronghold 

2. Antiquities 

3. Nemesis 

4. The Dark 

5. Exodus

Synopsis

Teferi, Kaya, and Saheeli have worked with Jodah to take up residence in Urza's Tower to build a time machine, to send Teferi's spirit back in time, using Kaya's ghostform ability, the Moonsilver Key, schematics from the Tolarian Academy, and Saheeli's artifice.  The side stories cover their other friends' efforts to protect the tower from Phyrexian attack while they go back in time to learn how Urza activated the Golgothian Sylex to blow up Terisiare, so they can use it on New Phyrexia.  

The main story tells the sides stories and aftermath of the novel: The Brother's War by Jeff Grubb.  Kayla bin Kroog's leading and migration away from the cold.  The rise of the church of Tal.  Stories 3 and 4 tell of tales of battle and soldiers within the Brother's War itself.  

Meanwhile, we learn of Tezzeret's motivations of helping New Phyrexia, to acquire a new Darksteel body, and delivers Karn to Elesh Norn.  He learns they have no intention of actually fulfilling their bargin, but that it was also Tezzeret sending information to Jace about Urabrask and Koth's rebellion, connecting Vivien to Urabrask on New Capenna, hiring Kaya to hunt Vorinclex, while still 'serving' Norn.  The Phyrexian attack on the tower requires Elspeth and Jodah to use most of their magic, and Chandra, Nissa, and Wrenn and Seven barely hold off the attack.  They find that the time machine is damaged however, and Teferi's spirit is lost in time.  All their other planeswalker allies arrive, for their strike attack on New Phyrexia, coordinating with others to protect their homeplanes from the Realmbreaker invasion (The world tree seed/material was stolen by Vorinclex).  Teferi had sent himself back to 63 AR, right at the moment of the Sylex blast, and spoke to Urza as he was forming into his planeswalker form after the blast.  Teferi learned what was needed, but the damaged time machine still left him lost on a beach, in unknown shores. 

Videos and Art

Art imgur compilation: from the world building video.  https://imgur.com/a/euqEBo4

Cinematic first look (Nissa and... Ajani?) The Dawn of the Multiversal Phyrexian Invasion!

World building video:

In Tokyo - There was a pop-up set up for a Cafe for Brother's War!  Players could try out the game and experience the set! 

Encyclopedia Dominia: Histories and Fables - Ambassador's Tale, Bigasdat's Escape

 The Encyclopedia Domnia had various stories, lore, and information of the worlds of the multiverse.  Here we're restoring some of the online duelist's tales.  The Encyclopedia was gathered by the planeswalker Taysir, here is the section of "Histories and Fables" with stories: Ambassador's Tale, Bigasdat's Escape.  We are continuing our reproducing of them: they are not original content, but created by Wizards of the Coast for the Online Duelist in the 1990s.  

 

The Ambassador's Journal

The following account was composed by a Shanodin dryad living in the Llanowar forest. The Llanowar and Shanodin peoples share a deep respect and connection despite the tremendous distance (several thousand miles) between their forests. The dryad, Sythia, did not record this story on paper, as most cultures do. Instead, she sang it into the wood of her tree. The connection between a dryad and her tree is so strong that the dryad's thoughts are imprinted within the living wood--for those who know how to read them. --Taysir

Although I have lived within the Llanowar's comforting shade for several bloomings of the crocus, I have seldom ventured from Hedressel's sheltered peace. The druids still seem overawed by my presence. Whenever I pass into my tree to rest or meditate I fear the younger ones will swoon at the sight. Perhaps this reaction comes from envy of the dryad's bond with the forest? Perhaps not.

The elves here in Llanowar divide themselves into tribes, or elfhames, as they call them. Each elfhame has a distinct populace, territory, leadership, and social structure, and although most of the elfhames get along with one another there is occasional strife between them. In the past, elfhames have even warred among themselves, although no such grand hostilities mar the tranquillity of the forest now.

The other month I asked the druids if I could begin to see more of the splendors of Llanowar. The structure of the elfhames intrigues me, and I have seen practically nothing of the forest, save the holy ground of Hedressel, since my arrival. The druids readily assented, asking only that I allow a cadre of the Order of the Steel Leaf to escort me. When I asked why members of the military should accompany me, Cedrian, the eldest druid, responded that such an escort was first and foremost a show of respect, but there are also dangers in the woods, with orcs from the Ironclaw Mountains occasionally making raids into the forest. Thus, escorted by nearly a dozen Steel Leaf elves, I ventured out to see Elfhame Loridalh.

Over the course of our journey (which lasted nearly a fortnight) I learned much of Girian and the Steel Leaf under his able command. The young elves, with their eye patches, tattoos, and brightly colored hair, remind me of the young everywhere: overeagerness and passionate belief are their greatest faults--and their greatest assets. Long ago given a mandate by their goddess, Freyalise, to guard the forest and the elves, the Steel Leaf have never shirked their duties. In fact, they seem to have stuck so staunchly to Freyalise's words that they can even condemn elves who act in ways the Order does not believe fitting. Still, Girian and the others were the souls of courtesy to me.

When we arrived in Loridalh I was immediately reminded of a child whose mother has come home from a long journey. The child clings to her mother's skirts, as though to remain attached to her mother forever so that terrible absence can never occur again. Likewise, these elves seem forever striving to increase their connection to the infinite life-giver, nature.

The buildings of the Loridalh are unlike any I have seen elsewhere. The structures are created from living wood, coaxed into existence over countless years (although the elves did admit to me that their magic hurries the process). The Loridalh carefully set up frameworks, physical sketches of rooms and buildings, beside a chosen tree. The tree's wood is then encouraged to flow in the shapes indicated, creating ever-ascending buildings that reach well into the heights of the forest. I found this arrangement beautiful and highly indicative of the elves' psychology. It is no wonder they look on my ability to live within wood with such envy and awe.

All this time, the Steel Leaf's patience seemed frayed. As I discussed the Loridalh building philosophy with the elders, I noticed the strained looks on the faces of my waiting escort. While they thought I was sleeping, I overheard several of the Order grumbling about drawing such gloryless duty as escorting an ambassador. Ah, youth!

It was just as I was getting ready to depart the city that I saw something I believe brought me to a slightly deeper understanding of my hosts.

A young mother hovered on the edges of the small crowd observing my visit, her child cradled tenderly in her arms. I glanced up to find her looking at me with tears in her eyes, and I began to cross over to her. Girian stepped up, reminding me that it was past midday and we might want to consider leaving for home soon. I patted Girian's arm reassuringly and approached the young mother (I never did discover her name). When I asked her why she was crying, she responded that she was certain my visit was a sign from Freyalise, for her child was named Llonya, which means "dryad" in Old Elvish. With such a sign from the goddess, surely her child must be blessed.

Staring down at the solemn elf-child, I watched the girl's fragile hands reaching up towards me, or perhaps the sky, a braided twig-toy clutched in her hand. I took the child into my arms and held her up towards the dappled light; still the child waved impatiently. As I glanced at Girian, who stood with arms folded grimly over his armor, I presented the child to the largest tree in the town. Grasping at a living branch, the child pulled the smallest leafy twigs into her mouth while her other hand tangled itself in my hair. Then little Llonya began to cry. Hastily, her mother collected her, apologizing for her daughter's behavior.

The Llanowar are like this child, I thought. Although they see themselves as ancient sages and warriors, they are really still youngsters torn between the desire to leave their home and the desire to stay within their mother's arms forever.

Smiling to myself at this insight I could never share with my escort, I nodded to the relieved Girian. It was time to return home.

 

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Bigasdat's Escape

This tale provides an outsider's view of the elves of Llanowar. It is often interesting to see how one people appears to another, very different race. One often learns something of both the object and reporter of the tale. Readers should bear in mind, however, that the outsiders in this case are goblins. Goblins are, by their very nature, prone to exaggeration and hyperbole.-- Taysir

I never did like Bigasdat. Mom Three-Slugs named him "Bigasdat" 'cause he was big as two cats when he was born. I only got named "Flegg" 'cause Mom had a cold when I came out. So, I never did like Bigasdat.

Anyway, Bigasdat stole one a' Gramma Gooseguts's kites the other day and went flying. He says he borrowed it, but from Gramma's curses I don't think she agrees. Anyway, Bigasdat got a good wind and whoop! off he went. Giblet, did he go! All the way up and out 'til he hung over da Forest of Death. Then he dropped like Grampa Umph after he ate dose three rocks. (We never found out why Grampa did that.)

Anyway, I was happy then 'cause I thought Bigasdat was gone. But now he's back. And he thinks he's a hero. Sheesh!

So Bigasdat starts bragging: "Yah! I crashed dat kite--kerbang--right in da Forest of Death. The crash woulda killed Flegg here, or any of you, flat. But I swung into a tree and lived."

Which means Bigasdat closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and waved his arms like he always does when he's scared, and his hood probably got caught in a tree branch.

"Da forest had the hugest trees ever a goblin saw. They went up to da sky and da roots went almost as high. And everything was silent like when we all wait for Chief Blurglump to belch. I knew if I waited da death elves would come. But I couldn't see da sun, so how's I to start runnin'?"

If the trees are so high, how come I can see da sky over 'em now, huh?

"Then I heard 'em--there musta been five . . . nine . . . no, ninety of 'em, all comin' fer me! Death elves with their pointed teeth, evil eyes, and poison arrows. So I knew home was da way they weren't. I coulda fought them if there were only ten or so, but with so many I had ta run. Mom Three-Slugs woulda hated it if I died."

Yeah, who'd she have to klunk when I'm not around? And who'd ever believe so many elves came after Bigasdat? 'Sides, even one elf'd send Bigasdat screamin' naked into a snowstorm.

"So's anyway, I ran and ran for hours. I don't think any goblin ever ran so long. I could hear da elves everywhere, and once I hadda hide in a pile of leaves. But they didn't find me, no."

Then da elves are stupider'n Bigasdat's pet stone. Bigasdat can't hide from Gramma Gooseguts, and she's half-blind and deaf!

"Finally, after what musta been two or three days, I escaped da Forest of Death and got back to da Ironclaws. So's even a whole tribe of pointy-ears couldn't get one goblin--and dat's me. Hah!"

"But, 'Gas, you was only gone fer an hour. And your kite only crashed a stone's throw inta da forest," I pointed out.

"Well, it seemed like days, and if it was only an hour it's 'cause I'm so fast! Anyway, da kite's at least an hour's run inta da forest."

"Yeah? Den how come I can see it from here, bug-burp?"

Bigasdat stared at da forest and da kite hangin' from a tree right there fer as long as it takes Gramma ta catch a bug with her toes. Then he musta seen the logic of my statement, 'cause he bopped me. So I bopped him back. My fist can out-logic Bigasdat's anyday.

Anyway, dis went on until we both fell asleep. And in da morning Gramma twisted Bigasdat's ears for hours. Guess my brother's good for something after all.

 

A Planeswalker's Guide to Caliman (Portal: Second Age)

 Welcome to Caliman!  An island to the south of the vast world of Dominaria, to the southeast of Jamuraa's coast.  Portal Second Age takes places here, sometime before the first Phyrexian Invasion.  

(sourced from the Portal Second Age guide book)  Thanks to u/TrioCarto for the scans for each page and faction.  

Caliman's elves, goblins and humans have long coexisted in relative harmony — or ignorance of each other. But in the last 150 years, disagreements between the races have led to skirmishes, and those skirmishes may eventually lead to war.

The island uses a mixture of technology and magic. Seagoing merchants draw on ancient Thran technology; the swamp dwellers have evil Phyrexian artifacts and trade them with the goblins; the humans benefit from the genius of a great inventor. Only the elves of the northwest forest, masters of green magic, are without any technology.

White

White is the color of Alaborn, a human kingdom dominating Caliman's southern plains. It is a civilization at the height of its architectural, intellectual, and artistic accomplishments.

Over thousands of years of peace, Alaborn's weapons and armor became increasingly elaborate and useless. When the Alaborn finally encountered the goblin tribes of the mountains, humiliating military defeats followed. Only ingenious military inventions saved them from complete destruction.

Recently, the Alaborn have discovered a new enemy, whose cunning and ruthlessness far exceeds that of the goblins — the swamp queen, Tojira.

(illustration: Mike Zug and Kev Walker)

 

 

Blue

Blue is the color of the Talas, an agile and muscular race from far to the west of Caliman. Over thousands of years, they have become a significant power on the seas and scattered islands of this part of Dominaria.

Merchants and pirates, the Talas control timber towns to the east as well as several port towns built on ancient Thran ruins. About thirty years ago, they began harvesting the elves' rare featherwood trees, which yield an immensely light timber valuable for crafting ships and thopters.

(illustration: John Avon, Mark Tedin, and Mathew Wilson)

 

 

Green

Green is the color of the elves of Norwood, the northern forest. Over the thousands of years since they settled on Caliman, they have transformed their home into a sylvan paradise.

Elves are generally a little smaller than humans, with a slight but muscular build. Their skin color is primarily caucasian, and their average lifespan is 500 years.

All elves are well trained and proficient with missile weapons, and their ability to move silently makes them virtually unbeatable in their own territory.

Red

Red is the color of the mountain tribes — goblins, ogres, and giants.

Goblins are sneaky and tend to attack in small bands. Their weapons range from rocks and sharpened sticks to slings, bows, and some Phyrexian airguns they've traded for with the sweamp queen.

Ogres are large humanoids with massive, muscular builds. They recently created the dreaded battlesaw, a large chainsaw-like weapon that combines Phyrexian mana battery with a specially forged blade.

Giants are brooding and dangerous creatures. Their solitary nature means that little is known of them.

(illustration: Tony DiTerlizzi)

 

   

Black

Black is the color of the swamp queen and her minions.

For centuries, the salt marsh at Caliman's north end was uninhabited except for a few animals and semi-intelligent monsters. Ten years ago, this sorceress appeared in the ruins of the ancient Thran city there. Since then, she's grown in power, sending an increasing number of her forces out in search of artifacts and slaves.

The swamp queen is served by nightstalkers, magically created black-mana creatures. They ride large mechanical beasts whose spread feet allows them to easily lope through the uneven swamp terrain.

The stage is set for the forces of good and evil to march into battle.

(illustration: Kev Walker and Mark Tedin)

Encyclopedia Dominia: Histories and Fables - Return of the Empress, Scalebane's Elite, and Still Waters Deep Roots

   The Encyclopedia Domnia had various stories, lore, and information of the worlds of the multiverse.  Here we're restoring some of the online duelist's tales.  The Encyclopedia was gathered by the planeswalker Taysir, here is the section of "Histories and Fables" with stories: Return of the Empress, Scalebane's Elite, and Still Waters, Deep Roots.  We are continuing our reproducing of them: they are not original content, but created by Wizards of the Coast for the Online Duelist in the 1990s. 

Return of the Empress

by Richard Thames Rowan

 Keening wails of the dying reverberated through the cooling waters of Vodalia as Galina gazed bleakly across the final battlefield of the royal city. Brave warriors and mages held back the mindless army of relentless Homarids by force of will alone.

This is the end of the empire, she thought as she absently rubbed the pearl set in the blue scales of her cheek. I am sorry my husband, may Svyelune's Light shelter you, but I can do no more. Our food is gone, our forces wasted. You were always the strong one, but even you succumbed to the horde . . . .

"Your Serene Highness, the time has come."

Galina turned her piercing gaze on Marshall Karel Volnikov, the only merfolk who would risk disturbing her thoughts. A long silence filled only with the wail of the dying passed between them like a conversation. Karel absorbed her stare impassively until she slowly nodded.

"Gather the survivors, we go to Akoroun's portal," she said curtly.

Karel nodded solemnly, touched his forehead in deference, and jetted away in a flurry of water. Galina's gaze followed thoughtfully after the noble warrior who had led her military forces unfalteringly for so many years and who had lent such astute political savvy to her court. Her thoughts turned to the distant colony of Etlan Shiis, the only colony likely to have escaped the ravages of the Homarids. It was well past time to remind the artisan caste, who founded the distant colony, of the duty they owed to the Empire.

The cold waters swirled around her, chilling her as she made her way up the spire where the mage Akoroun would open a portal to Etlan Shiis. Akoroun was waiting above with Karel, and they both touched their foreheads as she swam up. At least four score survivors gathered about the base of the spire from throughout the royal city as the Homarids began to claim the final stronghold of Vodalia for their own.

"All is ready?"

Akoroun nodded, "Yes, your Serene Highness."

"Then let us begin."

Akoroun motioned half a dozen mages forward, and each pulled a large pearl from their robes. The mages stroked their pearls softly and crooned strangely mournful notes of deep longing. Voices embraced and danced in complex harmonies of delicate intricacy as tendrils of moonlight twisted out of the pearls. At the murmuring command of the voices, the tendrils wove a web of light. Each mage's voice slid with serpentine grace among the strands, pulling them tighter into a pool of glowing brilliance until, one-by-one, the voices slid free of the pool. At last, only Akoroun's tendril remained attached to the portal. He nodded.

"The portal is ready, but I must maintain the weave."

"Very well, let us begin," Galina said, motioning the survivors forward through the portal. With a final glance at a dying Vodalia, she swam through.

---

Warm currents gradually cleared the white haze obscuring Galina's vision, and she glanced around at the remarkable change of scenery. To the west, a vast rolling plain stretched endlessly, broken only by coral formations, deep sea kelp, and darting schools of fish. Rising to the east, and on whose slopes she rested, an impressive island-mountain range stretched from south to north. Further north, the range swept back to the east, hiding itself for a time before reappearing in the distance. For the first time in a long while, she began to feel warm.

Karel swam up and waited for her to speak.

"I see you, Karel."

"Your highness, I have taken the liberty of dispatching scouts to determine the exact location of the colony. They bring some disturbing news." Karel seemed troubled. Galina raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

Karel hesitated. "Etlan Shiis seems somewhat . . . larger than anticipated. Too large, in fact." By way of an explanation, he gestured to the group of mages who were in deep conference.

Galina frowned thoughtfully, then said, "Gather everyone. I would see this 'city' of artisans."

Karel nodded as he moved to collect the remnants of Vodalia and said, "It lies beyond the northern bend of the mountains." After a few minutes, Galina made her way northward in the shadow of the eastern island-mountains.

The Vodalians began swimming after their empress in silence, naturally falling into strict caste order with the warriors immediately behind Galina, then the mages, a few of the merchant caste, and lastly a handful of the lowly artisans--even in battle it was occasionally useful to have servants for demeaning labor.

Galina led the silent entourage, gliding over deep chasms in the slopes of the island-mountains, through coral formations and vast schools of brightly colored fish. She skirted the hot waters surrounding a column of bubbles rising from a steam vent and eventually came to the final mountain separating her from Etlan Shiis. As she crested the last ridge, she suddenly halted in a turmoil of warm waters, gazing at the city below.

Rolling plains sprawled to the north and west until they reached the mountains in the far distance. Unlike the western flats, however, this plain was filled with far more than just coral and kelp. Etlan Shiis began at the base of the island-mountains below her and stretched to the north and west. A slow anger began seeping through her eyes as they traveled the vast expanse of sweeping arches and artistic spires and towers that were so different from the royal city so recently lost to the Homarids. The city stretched on and on to the west until it vanished from sight. Her eyes picked out five enormous spires linked by arches on the far horizon, and her anger erupted.

"How dare they mock the Imperial Towers!" she thundered in rage as her followers cringed in their awe. The city rivaled the Vodalian royal city in size, and exceeded it in grandeur.

"Your most serene highness, if you please, all may not be as it seems," Akoroun touched her lightly on the arm. He was about to continue when he realized what he had done and his eyes widened with alarm.

Galina slowly turned to face the mage who had defiled her by his touch and suddenly gripped his neck with a darting hand. She gazed at him in the calmness of rage as he began to convulse beneath her hand. His eyes rolled back in his head and he began keening as steam bubbled from his skin. He thrashed on briefly after his keening died away; when he grew still, she released him to float upward to Svyelune's Light above the sea.

Her fury abated, she located another mage and calmly demanded, "Explain Akoroun's statement."

Startled, the mage stammered, "Ah, he was saying, ah, that we seem to have arrived in Etlan Shiis some years after we left Vodalia."

Galina absorbed the news impassively and said, "How many years?"

The mage swallowed and said, "About, ah . . . we think it may be as much as three thousand years later." He braced himself and closed his eyes and prepared to receive treatment similar to his predecessor's.

Galina glared at the mage for a long moment, then nodded and said, "Very well. We must re-acquaint this city of artisans with their duty to the Empire." She turned and made her way downward, leaving her entourage to gradually recover from their shock. They followed her.

---

It was almost too easy. She had led the Vodalians into the city of Etlan Shiis without a single challenge and on to the new Imperial Towers. The chamber containing the group of artisans that styled themselves the "Council of Etlan Shiis" was not difficult to find. They had been initially startled by the appearance of their brethren, then outraged at being disturbed. They had reluctantly listened to Karel's introduction, which they found unnerving even as they doubted it. In the end, what decided the matter was one of the councilors' comments.

"Toss this garish riffraff out and let us get on with our business." Oblivious to the effect his words were having on his visitors, he continued. "After all, even if they are who they say, didn't our ancestors leave Vodalia because the caste system put the most violent and unfit to rule in charge of the nation?" Several of his fellow councilors nodded in agreement.

Karel calmly turned to this most vocal of the council, swam forward, and with fluid grace, broke his neck. The council chamber erupted with cries of outrage that became panic as Karel seized the next councilor and dispatched him with equal ease. The council members began scattering in all directions. Within moments, a scythe of energy from a Vodalian battle mage cut the councilors down as they fled. Only one escaped. At Karel's signal, a warrior quietly slipped out of the chamber to apprehend him. Galina gave the order to those remaining to subdue the city immediately and inform the residents that she would be assuming her throne once again. Her lords touched their foreheads and departed in all directions with small bands of warriors and mages. For the next several hours, she heard the occasional sounds of short-lived battle as each objection was squashed and those who objected were brought into line.

Galina gazed thoughtfully across the silent council chamber through the floating bodies of the ex-councilors. In her solitude, she began laying plans for the defense of the city, for the marshaling of military forces, and for the future.

Some day, my husband, may Svyelune's Light shelter you, I will return with hundreds of thousands of warriors to reclaim your Empire. We will utterly destroy the Homarids and dedicate the victory to the memory of your glory. From this day forward, a new Vodalian Empire is born . . . .

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Scalebane's Elite

By Teeuwynn

The following story is a verbatim transcription of an eyewitness account of one of the most important events in recent Jamuuran history. -- Taysir.

I'm not certain where to begin . . . or why you want me to tell this tale. Kulinda or Jerran could tell it better . . . ah, but their wounds are still healing. Well then, I'll tell you what I saw and heard for myself. I can vouch for nothing else, and what I can attest to is fantastic enough for ten tales. Well then, this is the story of how the mage Mangara was set free from his terrible, unlawful prison. And, as you know, if it was not for Mangara's help we would never have beaten Kaervek's magic and undead minions.

I have fought in Scalebane's army for over a year now, and no warrior could wish a more inspiring, brave leader than Rashida Scalebane. I would die for that woman -- indeed, I almost did. Less than a fortnight past, Rashida called three warriors to her tent: myself, Kulinda, and Jerran. Wasting no words, Rashida explained that she had chosen us to accompany her and a few others on a special mission, a mission to save the mage Mangara. At these words Kulinda gasped, and I nearly did as well. Mangara had disappeared many months ago. How could Rashida know he was imprisoned, let alone where he was trapped.

Nodding sharply at Kulinda, Rashida answered only that all would be explained that could be explained by the prophetess Asmira, who had joined our encampment only hours before. "At dawn we will again meet in this tent and Asmira and I shall tell you all we can of our quest." Telling us to prepare to leave immediately after the dawn meeting, Rashida bowed her head over her legendary dragonslaying banesword. The first gathering of Scalebane's Elite was at an end.

Restless and nervous after a troubled night's sleep, we met once more in Rashida's tent at dawn. Asmira was already waiting within, seated upon the floor herder-style. Asmira was smaller than I imagined, but her dark eyes reflected both confidence and conviction. Clad in white and gold garments mixing both Femeref and Zhalfiran styles, the great prophetess Asmira greeted us with the most serene smile I have ever seen. "Greetings and thanks, Children of Fate," the prophetess began. "In recent days great omens have wafted across our land on the wings of dreams. I have felt their feathery touch, as has your leader, Rashida. Now is our chance to free Mangara from the stone in which he has long been imprisoned."

"What sort of stone could imprison a mage?" Jerran asked in his sing-song whisper.

"An amber prison," Rashida answered. "It is a magical stone into which a mage may thrust any single being."

"And the being may remain trapped there for an infinity of eternities if he is not freed," Asmira concluded. "It is our responsibility to free Mangara from this prison. The dreams have told us where Mangara's prison lies . . . a handful or more days travel into the Mwonvuli Jungle. We must begin our journey at once if we are to have any hope of rescuing Mangara before Kaervek's might grows beyond all hope of stopping him."

"But what is our role in all this?" I asked. "We are only warriors and not many in number."

"You are my warriors and the heart of all Jamuura beats in your breasts," Rashida answered.

"And you are so few in number because we do not believe more warriors could avoid many of Kaervek's patrols," Asmira finished. "But come, gather your things, it is time for us to begin the Lion's Eye Quest."

As we gathered our gear together I thought on the ancient saying -- "Caught in the Lion's Eye." Yes, if ever there was a moment of crisis, we were walking into it. And with that thought I joined my fellows to confront our fate.

The next few days are mostly a blur to me. We did our best to avoid Kaervek's patrols, but there were far more than even Rashida had predicted. Attempting evasion in the plains proved difficult. Alternately battling and avoiding the undead patrols, we reached the final hill overlooking the jungle far later than we had hoped. We could all see Rashida's nerves grow raw as time drained away from us. Even Asmira's face began to appear ashen with worry on the third day as we neared the final hill.

But at the end of that day as we crested the final rise, we found new hope in the form of the flying ship, Weatherlight. Rushing up to the ship's captain, Sisay, Rashida demanded to know how and why she was here. The slightly embarrassed captain responded that she had had a dream that bade her come to this very spot. Although I'm sure Sisay thought Asmira and Rashida would think her crazy for flying her ship into the middle of an enemy-infested plain because of a dream, our leaders merely nodded. After all, the Lion's Eye Quest itself was the stuff of dreams.

It took only a few minutes to scramble up rope ladders and climb aboard the Weatherlight. On board, Sisay's crew were fewer in number than I would have expected, but Sisay said she was still rebuilding. I wish there had been time to speak to her crew, particularly the sharp-eyed minotaur, but exhaustion and the need for all hands to man the ship did not give me the chance. Perhaps I will be able to buy Sisay and her crew a round of drinks at a tavern on some future night.

Now, where was I? . . . Oh, yes, Sisay and the Weatherlight immediately set sail through the still jungle air. You'd think flying through sky would be much smoother than riding the ocean's waves, but it really isn't. The Weatherlight constantly hummed and vibrated as we cut our way through the air. We flew in one day what would have taken us five or more on the ground. Without the Weatherlight we would have lost crucial days and perhaps the war.

When we finally landed, we found ourselves outside a small palace just beginning to decay. Vines covered much of the western wall, but the rest of the squat edifice was still relatively unmarred. A large metal door blocked our way into the compound, but it proved little impediment to us. With Asmira leading us into the palace, we passed through two long hallways in complete silence, unbothered by guards of any kind. Then silence became screams and Kaervek's dread minions descended upon our small group.

The battle through the palace seemed to last for days. Have you ever fought continuously for your life for hours on end? It is a constant battle to maintain the shield of hope, to not give in to the terror surrounding you. Yet, we persevered. If it were not for our dragonscale armor and other magical protections, we never would have survived the assault. But survive we did, and made slow progress into the fortress until at last we saw the amber prison floating within a scintillating beam of white light.

As Asmira managed to push closer to the amber prison, Kaervek's forces began to pummel us with magical fire and other terrors. Jerran was badly burned several times over and it is a wonder he survived at all. I remember little of the next few minutes save the struggle to remain standing. I remember seeing Asmira reach the amber prison . . . I remember seeing the holy one bend her head in concentration over the magical stone, her face ghostly in the magical beam's sharp light. Then my sight was overwhelmed by the forces in front of me and I was sure I would fall at any moment.

It was then that a terrible shrieking howl echoed through the chamber and I saw Rashida and Scalebane dancing through the undead with the grace of a thousand cheetahs. Even when fighting dragons, I had never seen Rashida fight so well or so dexterously. On her face she wore a mask crafted of dragonskin, and its eyes, blazing with yellow fury, were not Rashida's. Rashida must have killed two score or more of Kaervek's minions in the time it took me to slay one. But such a display of valor does not come without cost. Just as I reached our leader she collapsed in complete exhaustion. Standing over Rashida's body to keep what remained of Kaervek's forces from harming her, I looked again to Asmira.

And in that moment I forgot the jungle heat as my blood froze in my veins. For as Asmira raised the amber prison in triumph a darkling panther warrior-woman leapt from ambush towards the holy warrior. Even as I screamed a warning, I recognized the legendary slayer Purraj of Urborg. As my scream echoed, too late to warn Asmira, Purraj's knife dug deeply into Asmira's back. Arching backwards Asmira ignored the terrible blow, managing to whisper out the last words of her spell to free Mangara. Her ritual complete, the amber prison suddenly glowed with such ferocity I could no longer bear to look on it.

When the blinding shaft of light faded all of Kaervek's forces lay dead around us and a middle-aged man in strange clothes stood where Asmira and Purraj had grappled seconds before. Of Purraj and Asmira there was no sign. Perhaps they were both consumed in the amber prison's shattering light.

Rashida stirred below me, and as I helped the shaken warrior onto her feet I saw her eyes meet Mangara's. With a deep bow the freed mage disappeared in a glimmer of pale white light.

Of course, you know the rest. Mangara confronted Kaervek and managed to prevail against the dark mage and his overextended resources. Now Kaervek lies within the very stone that so long held Mangara prisoner. It seems a fitting punishment. Asmira has officially been granted the title of Holy Avenger, but I fear it may be a posthumous honor. As for Purraj . . . I have no idea but I am sure if Asmira fell, then so did that Urborg assassin.

I grow tired now, and I must check on Jerran. I hope my tale has been of some use to you.

May you never live in the Lion's Eye.

-- Forena, Scalebane's Elite.

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Still Waters, Deep Roots

The following parable is short, but telling. The elves of Riashil perhaps best reflect the ancient shyness and reticence of the Llanowar elves. Theirs may well be the closest to pre - Ice Age elvish culture. Although the Riashil's insularity grows out of a desire to protect their culture, it also fosters a certain amount of fear. The following story illustrates the latter, reactionary, response to the elfhame's secluded existence.--Taysir

Listen closely, children, and I will tell you a tale while the Glitter Moon gazes upon us and shines down blessings upon the earth. In years before you were born--but not too many years before--there lived a young elf named Finn. Finn was not unlike most children, full of energy and spilling over with questions. "Why does the Glitter Moon shine? Where do maggots come from? Why do I have to be nice to others?"

Most of Finn's questions were answered more or less to his satisfaction, but there was one question his elders could not give him a simple answer to. "Why do we never leave Riashil?" Of course you all know that the boundaries of Riashil are sacred, for we live in the most blessed place under Freyalise's care, yet Finn could not seem to understand this. "I want to see more of the world!" he cried. And the elders just shook their heads and determined to wait with the patience of the trees for Finn's foolishness to come to an end.

But it did not end. Instead, Finn's curiosity grew like a patch of itchweed, and Finn felt bound to scratch. Journeying to the edge of Riashil, where the Moen river marks our southern boundary, Finn found himself staring at a young human across the water. "Ah!" thought Finn. "Perhaps this human can answer my question." Solemnly, Finn hailed the human and asked his question. Staring intently, the young human gestured for Finn to wade across the Moen, made shallow by drought.

So excited was Finn at the prospect of finally finding out why the Riashil never leave their home, that the young elf dove into the chill waters and swam across to where the human waited. Shaking the water from his eyes, Finn repeated his question once more: "Why should elves stay only in Riashil?"

The human gestured again, and Finn edged even closer. Smiling, the human opened a large bag at his side and gestured for Finn to see what was inside. Finn peered closely into the bag's dark interior, hoping to see something that would explain the mystery to him. But before he knew what was happening, the human shoved poor Finn into his bag and took him away forever.

So, you see, Finn got his wish much faster than he would have gotten it if he waited patiently, but the answer was perhaps not what he hoped. You must have still waters to grow deep roots, my children. Rapids wash away only the foolish, not the wise.

 

Encyclopedia Dominia: Early Volumes II - History of Benalia

 The Encyclopedia Domnia had various stories, lore, and information of the worlds of the multiverse.  Here we're restoring some of the online duelist's tales. The Encyclopedia was gathered by the planeswalker Taysir, here is the History of Benalia with added footnotes of historians restored!  We are continuing our reproducing of them: they are not original content, but created by Wizards of the Coast for the Online Duelist in the 1990s.  

Editor's note:  The 'references' were added in line, but were links to comments as if references in actual notes for an Encyclopedia listed.  

History of Benalia

Benalia is a complex and ever-growing society. In some ways it reminds me of a robust organism, bursting with health. But whether this organism that is Benalia is the heart of Dominaria or merely a cancer upon the land is still in question. Still, this brief treatise, by one of Benalia's clan historians, gives the reader some idea of the nature and origins of Benalish politics, and of the relationship of the seven great clans to one another. --Taysir

On Recent History and the Glory that is Benalia Under the August Leadership of Tamira of Rosecot.
This treatise is humbly presented by Varren, Historian of Clan Rosecot (with additional commentary by Vola, Historian of Clan Deniz; Ebenin, Historian of Clan Tarmula; Fannia, Historian of Clan Ternsev; Cl'eueth, Historian of Clan Capashen; Sytryr, Historian of Clan Joryev; and Havram, Historian of Clan Croger).

As is doubtless already known by those citizens of the empire who live in the capital of Benalia itself, in recent years the leadership of our nation has undergone some restructuring. However, just as doubtless, those citizens not living within sight of the Seven Pillars may not have had opportunity to learn of the Seven Clans' wise accord. As Council Leader Tamira's appointed historian, it is my duty--and my pleasure--to inform all of Benalia of the clans' most recent actions.

But first, a brief overview of pertinent facts leading up to our present glory. [Ref 1]

[Ref 1: The accuracy of Varren's comments is at issue here. There is little evidence that Sheoltun fell swiftly; in fact many documents point to the reverse. He is merely engaging in academic hyperbole for the sake of drama. --Ebenin

One must look outside one's own clan records to learn truth, Ebenin. --Varren

Multiple interpretations of any ancient facts are, in and of themselves, worthy of introduction into discussion, gentlemen. --Vola]

Geography

Ever since Torsten Von Ursus first took up the reins of the great horse Civilization and guided our ancestors out of the ruins of the once-grand Sheoltun Empire, Benalia has been a nation set on a path towards greatness. Even the name Torsten chose for us--Benalia, or "aspiration"--proclaims our intent to the world. Our empire grew in power and size even more rapidly than that of Sheoltun once fell. [Ref 2]

[Ref 2: Once, the Avenant and their peerless archers were a part of our nation, but an unwise Joryev leader insulted the Avenant and we lost the isle. --Fannia

Actually, according to our clan records, it was a Ternsev leader who fell in lust with an Avenant prince's daughter. She did not take well to her kidnapping, and neither did her father. --Sytryr]

Today Benalia stretches from the Spice Isles to the west, matchless in their wealth, to the metal-rich Red Iron Mountains to the east, the Kb'Briann Highlands to the south, and the edge of the Avenant Isle to the north. [Ref 3]

[Ref 3: Once, the Avenant and their peerless archers were a part of our nation, but an unwise Joryev leader insulted the Avenant and we lost the isle. --Fannia

Actually, according to our clan records, it was a Ternsev leader who fell in lust with an Avenant prince's daughter. She did not take well to her kidnapping, and neither did her father. --Sytryr]

Political History

At Torsten's death, his seven lieutenants read the words of instruction their great leader left them. To which of his lieutenants would Torsten pass the reins of leadership? Though the exact wording of this Lost Edict is lost to us, we know the outcome: Torsten chose none of these followers--and all of them.

Under the watchful gaze of three priests of the Church of Angelfire, the lieutenants argued for seven days and as many nights over the true meaning of their dead leader's instructions. Finally, they came to an understanding, and on the eighth morning they addressed the crowds, still dressed in the red of mourning, who waited impatiently outside the temple where the lieutenants had met.

"From this day forward," Ilyana of Rosecot proclaimed,[Ref 4] "we and our families all take on the mantle of responsibility for this greatest of nations. The Seven Clans, as Torsten has written we are to be known, will each lead our nation for one lunar year; the head of that clan will rule all Benalia as well. At the start of each lunar year, our positions will rotate, so that the clan that the previous year was most prestigious is the next year the least of the Seven."[Ref 5]

[Ref 4: Once again, Varren interprets the situation instead of conveying fact. It is unclear just which clan leader first spoke on that historic day. --Cl'eueth

Rosecot is mentioned more often than any other clan, Cl'eueth. --Varren

Only if one counts your clan's handful of "contemporaneous" accounts written over two hundred years later by so-called twiceborn clan members claiming to have seen the ceremony with their own eyes. Only Rosecot gives such claims any credence. --Vola]

[Ref 5: Some students of Von Ursus believe the great leader designed this system to keep any one clan from seizing power, as no one leader could truly fill Torsten's shoes. --Cl'eueth

Still others say he was merely trying to force the issue of leadership, so that one clan would have to compel the others to obedience. If so, his plan failed. --Vola

And yet others claim the entire document was a joke written by Torsten's fool and mistaken for a last declaration by even-more foolish priests. --Fannia]

Clan Membership and Standing

An ancient legend has it that the gods fought for years over the stars in the sky, with each god claiming the sparkling treasures for him- or herself. This quarrel grew more and more grave until some of the gods began to destroy stars rather than let a rival lay claim to them. Finally, one wise godling suggested casting stars across the heavens: Whatever was covered by stardust from each god's throw would belong to that god. Since all the gods believed that they would be superior in any such endeavor, they all swore to abide by its results. Today, when we see the summer star-showers, we know the gods are reenacting their famous contest.[Ref 6]

[Ref 6: A variant of this--a superiorly documented variant, I might add--speaks of the gods drawing comets to choose which constellations would belong to them. --Ebenin]

And thus each god cast his or her stars, and each claimed to have received the best of the glittering sky-jewels for his or her own. At that time, each god also declared a people to be his or her personal charge (unlike today, when the gods have turned to matters of greater import). Thus, any child born under that god's constellations belonged to that god.

Since before the days of the Sheoltun Empire's grandeur, the great families of northwestern Central Aerona have looked to the stars to determine whether a child belongs to them or to some other great family. In later years, only the noble families followed this tradition. Today, such birth-blessing belongs only to the Seven Clans, each striving to ensure its children are born in an appropriate month. Still, accidents happen, and those born outside the assigned time become members of their star-clans (as opposed to birth-clans) upon reaching the age of twelve. Such an accidental birth is always cause for grief.[Ref 7]

[Ref 7: The practice of star-birth determining clan membership is not as counterproductive as it might first appear. Many cross-clan allegiances--sometimes the only things keeping one clan from another's throat--are only made due to a fortunately placed person with mixed birth- and star-clans. --Havram]

Modern Benalia

Today, each of the Seven Clans takes responsibility for a certain area of government--the treasury, navy, army, etc.--while one clan holds leadership of Benalia for the year. A catalog of the exact grouping of responsibilities is available for perusal in the government archives, in Benalia.

And so we move into the next era of Benalish leadership, the largest and most productive society on all of Aerona. Our leaders are to be commended for their judicious decisions, achieved through reasoned consensus, not brute force, as is the unfortunate habit of the leaders of some of our neighboring countries. [Ref 8]

[Ref 8: "Reasoned consensus" is, again, a relative term. Do you call three poisonings, one stabbing, and uncounted bribes, blackmail attempts, and threats "reasoned"? --Vola

There is little, if any, documentation of such "facts," Vola. --Varren]

 

Lore Compilation for Dominaria United

We return once again, to the hub of the multiverse: Dominaria!  The world connected and the center of all.  Please see our main compilations page for more articles of the history of Dominaria, and past lore from the 2018 expansion.  

 

Planeswalker's Guide To Dominaria United. 

The Legends for Dominaria United.

 

Main Story: 

1. Echoes in the Dark  Karn discovers his worst fears. 

2. Sand in the Hourglass Karn attempts to warn his friends and planeswalkers, with peril

3. The Locked Tower Karn assists in determining who the sleeper agent is.

4. A Brutal Blow The planeswalkers gather forces to draw the Phyrexians on Dominaria out

5. Whispers in the Wind The final battle on Dominaria, and a terrible revelation!

Side Stories: 

 Homecoming - for Liliana, or fans?

The Education of Ulf - in the Tolarian Academy West

Death and Salvation - Squee's future and past reunite

Shades and Nightmares - Darker and Darker

Faith in Birds - Femeref has troubled decisions to make

Synopsis: 

Karn is seeking answers on how to properly use the Golgothian Sylex, in the Caves of Koilos, when he stumbles upon a Phyrexian staging ground.  He attacks and attempts to kill Sheoldred alone, but is defeated by Rona and burned under rock, until Ajani manages to find and uncover him.  He returns to Argive to learn that Jodah and Jaya are helping negotiate an alliance between Keld and Benalia, but when Teferi interrupts with news of Phyrexians, the sleeper agents from New Argive attack. Ajani gives chase to save Aron Capashen, but Karn, Jodah, Teferi, Jaya, and Stenn (the negotiator) are stuck trying to capture the spy among them in the tower.  It's Stenn, and Karn uses deception to draw him out, despite much of New Argive being corrupted already by Phyrexians.  

The walkers call the Weatherlight and they split up to request help to draw out the Phyrexians (with the Sylex as bait, as well as the Mana Rig in Shiv).  There are multiple larger skirmishes, and many races and peoples battle or seek protection (see the side stories), including Squee and his band of goblins being corrupted by Phyrexians and the return of Ertai.  

Even the Weatherlight with its Thran based engine is corrupted into a Phyrexian machine.  The final battle begins, with the Dominarians hard pressed - but they seem to have won until Ajani is revealed to be a sleeper agent Phyrexian (without his awareness), and he destroys the Sylex, kills Jaya, and he and Sheoldred kidnap Karn to Phyrexia.  Otherwise, the Dominarians are victorious in their battle for their plane, for now... 

Videos: 

Building worlds: Dominaria

  

Official Teaser

 

Other Lore:

 Wizards took out an obituary for Jaya Ballard in the Seattle Times Newspaper:

You can also see her respects page at Jayaballard.com

Who the Raven Man is, by Jay Annelli

The r/mtgVorthos subreddit had the preview for Lagamos, and released a fan soundtrack for him, by u/TheDaviday 

Did you see the scroll made for the Korean Magic community?  It's got quite that style!

A header image from Instagram, showcasing the face off in a different way! 

In Australia, Wizards partnered with a Boba company for special drinks!

In Kuala Lampur - KakiTabletop was sent a special media package!  With a map of Dominiaria with notes both of Phyrexia and the Coalition! https://www.instagram.com/p/CiiCd2dJrl5/  Read the whole map on their blog: https://kakitabletop.com/lets-talk-about-dominaria-united/ 

They deciphered the texts: 

Traveller, it is destined that you delve into my humble writings and observations that I have collected over the years. Not all which is written are as it seems, and I am certain you will find the truth.

Coalition	Phyrexian
Dominaria contains the evidence of ___ ancient artefacts scattered in ruins across the landscape. Their function is often a mystery to the people living amongst them. Dominarians live in the shadows of the past.
Dotted with islands and populated by merfolk, the Voda Sea is the crossroads of Dominaria. On its western edge, bordered by the continent of Aerona, which is home to Benalia, the foremost military and economic power on the plane. The forest of Llanowar, populated by ___ elves ___, live just south of Benalia, ___ by the goblins and orcs of the Ironclaw Mountains.	THE UNWORTHY WILL BE PURGED. GAZE UPON THE PERFECTION OF FILIGREE THAT MARKS THE GRATEFUL FLESH WITH INTRICATE SCARS.
The northern extent of the Voda Sea is Stahaan, which is home to a ___ ___ minotaur society.
North and east of Jamuraa stretches Dominaria’s largest ocean, ___ called the Great Ocean. The fiery land of Shiv is northeast of Jamuraa – a rocky and mountainous place inhabited by dragons, the reptilian Viashino, and goblins.	YOUR TRUEST SELF WILL BE REVEALED. IT IS NOT ONE YOU KNEW, BUT INSTEAD ONE THAT YOU MUST FOLLOW.
The humans of Shiv, the Ghitu are largely nomadic. Shiv is also notable for the ruins of an ancient factory, the Thran Mana Rig, which remains capable of producing powerful magic.	BRASS AND BONE, STEEL AND SINEW, WITH THE CLARITY OF VISION AND PURPOSE, COMES CLARITY OF FUNCTION. THAT IS PERFECTION.
Gulmany is separated from New Argive by the Sea of Laments, and from Almaaz by the Sea of Almaaz. Far ___ to the south of Terisiare, the continent of Sarpadia is rumoured to be lost to civilized habitation.	THE GOD OF WASTE IS CALLING. FATHER OF MACHINES. HIS BRETHREN LIE IN WAIT. THEY ARE MANY.
Millenia ago, the artificer brothers Urza and Mishra discovered the secrets of the Thran ___ in a network of caves called Koilos. This marked the beginning of Phyrexian influence on Dominaria. Farthest east lies New Argive, a kingdom of scholars and artificers who ___ learning above all else.
Terisiare lies east of Otaria and west of the Spice Isles. Once a continent, Terisiare has been shattered into five great islands and many smaller ones by the destruction wrought during the Brother’s War and the Ice Age.	YAWGMOTH WILL RETURN. THE WEAK MUST BE PURGED. AWAKEN AGENT. WE EXIST TO CEASE. ASH IS OUR AIR. DARKNESS OUR FLESH. WE RISE ONCE MORE, IT HAS BEGUN.
The Kukemssa Sea stretches to the northwest of Zhalfir, east of the Burning Isles. The island-continent of Corondor is situated just to the north of Jamuraa, and it is ___ entangled in Zhalfir’s history. Southwest of Jamuraa is the island of Madara, home to the Umezawa family and the Talon Gates where Nicol Bolas long ago defeated a primordial, godlike leviathan and ___ ___ he was resurrected after his defeat.

(All translated deciphered text is credit to kakitabletop!)  Please visit their site for more cool images or the photos of the box!)

Did we miss anything?  We'd love to continue to compile all art and lore from the new Dominaria set!

The Encyclopedia Dominia: Taysir's Journals and A-D

Dominia (not Dominaria) used to be the name of the magic multiverse.  For a time, in the pre-revisionist era of Magic, there was one planeswalker interested in catalog and study of the denizens and peoples of the various planes, and so, Taysir started and created the Encyclopedia Dominia.  Here we have recovered his progress on such a vast and monumental task, and have put forth all his notes and entries from it.  

Here is the first part of this restoration process.  

Taysir's Journals 

Entry 1: I have existed for thousands of years, one person amid a multitude too vast for even a planeswalker such as myself to comprehend. Yet each of this great throng, each person who exists upon any of the planes in Dominia, weaves his or her thread into the tapestry of history. Unfortunately, few beings can actually gain any perspective upon the worlds they live in or the peoples with which they live. Life is too short and the planes too vast.

Here I presume to take my experience and my knowledge, and set to paper history, legends, and tales from the immense array of cultures found in Dominia. Hopefully, others will come to gaze upon this collection and learn from it. Throughout these volumes I shall provide commentary, yet I vow to never censor the words of others within their own stories.

In my youth, I would not have had the patience for this lengthy task. But, having lived and died--and lived again--I have come to a greater understanding of the necessity for the quietest virtue.

Long ago I loved a woman with greater passion than any other man had ever loved . . . . Of course this isn't true--my love was no greater or lesser than any others, but I was then convinced of its unique worth. It brought me only grief because it was a selfish love that did not truly care about the woman at its center. Since that time, I have learned much.

I dedicate this compilation, which I shall call the Encyclopedia Dominia, to Kristina . . . and also to my adopted daughter, Daria. Both women are brilliant, and the fabric of the world is richer for the shining threads of their lives. 

Entry 2: While I sit among the creature comforts of my library, I can't help but muse upon how important our environment is to who we are.

Imagine, if you will, that I choose to clone a young mortal. The boy and his other self would be identical in all things. If, however, these two identical people were placed in very disparate environments, they would rapidly grow different from each other, no longer truly identical. For example, if one boy spent his time in a tranquil place where he faced nothing more terrible than the teasing of his siblings and the occasional minor injury, where all his physical and emotional needs were met, would not his character and personality reflect this environment? Would not the identity of the other boy, living in a place of constant want, with no one to care for him, grow (or wither) in very different ways?

A truly wonderful or terrible environment leaves a deep imprint indeed upon its inhabitants. The best and worst of places may even affect the other realms with which they coexist. Thus, the literature and myths of numerous cultures again and again reference certain places. One of these places is the realm known as Phyrexia, a black abyss of pain and terror. It is astounding that creatures manage to not only exist, but occasionally even thrive in this place of charnel smoke, metal, and ash; a place where the only light is belched forth by huge soot-spewing furnaces.

The impact of such an environment on any who spend time there is surely great. Undoubtedly the unrelenting misery crushes the bodies and spirits of most creatures, but it is also true that only in the hottest forges are the truest blades formed. Without adversity there is seldom heroism. Without evil, good is meaningless. Thus, I feel it is just as important to record the history and culture of a place such as Phyrexia as it is of one more palatable, such as Llanowar. 

 

Entry 3: I have spent many hours contemplating the way in which the elves of Llanowar have managed to create and maintain a world unto themselves. Though they do have some contact with their neighbors, the Llanowar have done a remarkable job of keeping other peoples and cultures from influencing their home. Some scholars claim it is the tremendous size of the forest that has long protected the elves, but although the forest of Llanowar is, indeed, quite vast, it is not in any way unique in its size. There are other elves in other vast forests throughout Dominia who have been much more "infected" by neighboring cultures.

There are reportedly up to ten separate elven cultures (or "elfhames," as the Llanowar term them) contained within this sprawling forest realm. Each of the elfhames supports in its own way the elves' desire to keep their culture and traditions safe from outside influence. Some elves disappear into the trees and rarely, if ever, venture from their homeland. Others trade with the outside world of humans, minotaurs, etc., but maintain a strict belief, grounded in religion, that they must keep some distance from other peoples in order to retain their mystical connection to nature and their forest home.

This isolationist philosophy is taken to its most disturbing extremes by the Order of the Steel Leaf, a select cadre of Llanowar said to have been first brought together by the goddess-planeswalker Freyalise herself. The Steel Leaf are zealous in their efforts to maintain the purity of Llanowar. To this day, any non-Llanowar risk their lives when entering territory controlled by the Order, which has been known to kill intruders (not merely goblins) without trial. A few arrows and the unfortunate strangers' bodies soon "feed the forest."

The Steel Leaf have even been known to direct their isolationist zeal against other Llanowar, for they disapprove of any cooperation or "collusion" with non-elves. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that someday the Order might turn their swords and arrows on those of their own people whom they consider traitors for consorting with outsiders.

In their fervor to preserve their people, will the Steel Leaf be the Llanowar's savior--or its executioner? 

 

 Main Encyclopedia Entries: 

The Amber Prison: This magical golden stone fits easily in the palm of a large man's hand. Although small, the amber prison contains great power. When wielded by a mage, the prison is capable of trapping a single being (of any size) in its amber depths. The unfortunate prisoner remains in stasis for as long as he or she is trapped in the prison. Although the prisoner apparently retains some vague, dreamlike awareness, time has little if any affect on the physical body. Upon release, the prisoner appears exactly as he or she did at the moment of imprisonment. 

 Asmira, Holy Avenger: Since her youth, Asmira has possessed the gift of prophecy. Although in recent years this gift has grown stronger, even Asmira's early teachers -- Femeref priests -- recognized her ability. Detesting violence and loving all the peoples and lands of Jamuura equally with all her being, Asmira has recently become the reluctant head of the Femeref resistance to Kaervek's advance. Although many Femeref cities have fallen, Asmira remains a shining example of goodness and hope to all the people of Jamuura. Her devotion to Jamuura and her will to see this terrible war ended have forged Asmira into a Holy Warrior of unparalleled skill and power. 

Bassorah is one of the most established cities in all of Rabiah, found in the vast majority of the plane's incarnations. Bassorah boasts a tremendous variety of inhabitants (from bird maidens, to desert nomads, to gypsies) and a truly stupendous bazaar, known for the vast array of merchandise one can find there. Only the Bazaar of Baghdad is larger, and it does not have the same curious variety of goods.

Strange items from other planes somehow make their way into a Bassoran merchant's stall. Often even the merchant has no idea where he picked up an item. Such finds are often called "Shahrazad's gifts" due to their uncanny tendency to fall into the hands of those who most need them.

Bird Maidens: Although bird maidens are found in other lands of Dominia, Rabiah is almost assuredly their true home. A beautiful, flying race of humanoids, bird maidens, as their name implies, are always female. They make their sparse homes high in the craggy caves and outcroppings of rock created by the constant winds and updrafts of the deserts.

One of the more curious arts the bird maidens practice is wind sculpting. Talented maidens place diamond dust in sharply funneled bone tubes, which they tie to rock formations. As the wind blows the dust against the stone, the rock erodes faster than usual. Over the course of several--even tens of--years, the sculpture appears.

Bird maidens mate with humans, and the resulting offspring is either bird maiden if female, or human if male. The human children are given back to their community, while the females are raised by the maidens. All bird maiden births are twins, and all twins are of the same gender. Bird maidens hold their birth-sisters extremely dear, although they seldom feel true kinship to their other siblings. Legends abound about the male offspring's exceptional strength, luck, and magical talent, which is why any village finding abandoned twin boys will almost invariably adopt and honor them.

Brass Man: Clumsy and slow, the brass men are mechanical-magical constructs of limited intellect. Although phenomenally tough and capable of withstanding extremes of temperature and weather, the brass men suffer from a strange malaise. Any action they take seems to use extreme effort, and no brass man will function long without intermittent, regular infusions of mana. Is this a flaw in their initial construction, or in their very nature? Such questions are for planeswalkers and wise ones, and outside the scope of this encyclopedia. 

Breathstealers: The Breathstealers are an ancient assassin guild from Urborg known for their ability to kill with complete accuracy and utter silence. In fact, the Breathstealers pride themselves on being able to kill a man without waking his wife sleeping beside him. The Breathstealers are currently insinuating themselves into Suq'Ata society, and although silent, these killers may be an even greater danger to the noble Suq'Ata than Kaervek's armies. The Breathstealers can work minor magics, including controlling certain darling creatures, and they worship a terrible force known as the Spirit of the Night. It is the ultimate honor for a Breathstealer to sacrifice himself to become part of the Spirit of the Night made manifest. 

The Church of Angelfire is perhaps the most popular church in present-day Benalia. Upwards of twenty percent of Benalkin (a term used by Benalish to describe themselves, particularly within the city of Benalia) proclaim themselves to be worshippers of Angelfire.

The church is named for the legendary warrior Gabriel Angelfire, whose spirit, it is claimed, burns on to this day. The main altar of every Angelfire church glows with the peculiar red-green candlelight of this "spirit-flame." The candles are thought to represent Gabriel's indomitable will, and are almost impossible to snuff once lit. The candle-making formula is considered a religious secret.

A number of historians believe the Church of Angelfire arose to replace the somewhat similar Church of Serra, whose worship is condemned in Benalia. This condemnation dates back to the days of Benalia's forerunner, the Sheoltun Empire. The growing settlement of Epityr cast off the ruling chains of Sheoltun when a priest of Serra called forth the angels of Serra to free the town. This uprising was the straw that broke the empire's back, and the already fading Sheoltun soon after lost all control of eastern Terisiare.

City of Brass: This mystical city is a shining paean to pain and rage. Legend has it that the city was built long ago by an aggrieved planeswalker who wished solace from some great pain. Located somewhere on the farthest reaches of Rabiah (or perhaps even in the plane of Wildfire), the City of Brass constantly shimmers with heat, easily maintaining a temperature some 20 degrees warmer than the surrounding desert. Constructed entirely of stone and brass, the city's structures reflect the sun, shimmering blood-gold from sunup to sundown, and glowing dimly with heat radiance for hours after nightfall. Even the nearby mountains are coated in brass, and although snow and ice often forms in the peaks at night, it melts within an hour of sunrise.

Due to the unbearable conditions of the city only a few creatures make their home there. Djinns and efreets frequent the city, although brass men are by far the most numerous inhabitants. Other beings who attempt entry often do not survive the experience. Despite all this, the City of Brass attracts a number of magic-workers with its high concentration of readily available mana. Unfortunately, the mana burns as hot as molten brass, and no wizard may use it without pain.

Desert Nomads: Found in even the harshest of dunes, the desert nomads are ubiquitous throughout Rabiah. It is difficult to believe that at one time this hardy people was almost lost forever to a series of terrible plagues. Yet today's nomads are tougher than ever, and they are truly unequaled at moving unseen and unheard through desert wastes. The nomads claim that even a desert child of six years can survive a fortnight lost in the sands. Although this claim is undoubtedly an exaggeration, the nomads do possess unrivaled knowledge of the desert and its ways.

The dragon engines were first introduced to Dominaria by the renowned artificer Mishra. Powerful artifact creatures capable of destroying almost anything in their path, Mishra's dragon engines were nevertheless only pale shadows of the original Phyrexian creations. Phyrexian dragon engines are as intelligent and swift as organic dragons, not in the slightest hampered by their mechanical origins. Many of Dominaria's goblin tribes believe that carrying a gear or cog from a dragon engine will keep other dragons from attacking the bearer. 

 

Dominaria Then and Now: Planar Gates

Planar connections to Dominaria:

Rabiah the Infinite

The Assassins of Suq'Ata
by Scott Hungerford, originally published in the Duelist.

The Suq'Ata originally came from the plane of Rabiah the Infinite, an Arabesque world connected to the plane of Dominaria through a series of huge, magical cyclone gates. In the distant past, when the gates between Dominaria and Rabiah were secure, many people crossed through the gates to make their home in the magic-rich environment of Jamuraa.

A number of these people, who would eventually become known as the Suq'Ata, settled and built cities reminiscent of their distant home. They began to build a trading empire, and soon had caravans traversing the huge continent of Jamuraa in search of valuables and profit. While this mercantile society was well-versed in spells, treasure, and artifice, with them also came one of the oldest arts on Rabiah--the way of the assassin.

Within the modern cities of the Suq'Ata there exists a network of secret guilds wholly devoted to murder. Using spells of summoning, fear, and mind-numbing cold, the assassins of Suq'Ata seek not to defeat their opponents outright, but to poison them over time in a variety of insidious ways--perhaps a cobra trained to remain still until it strikes, or food tainted with a tasteless poison, delivered by an unseen hand.

The Suq'Ata assassins have a variety of spells and charms that generate an aura of fear, allowing them to pass through the most well-guarded halls and chambers. Even the most vigilant of guards will flee from the smallest swampfly if the fear-aura spell is woven well by an assassin. Suq'Ata assassins have been known to walk through the heart of a crowded banquet hall to deliver their poisonous gift, either by knife or vial, no matter how many guards are present.

One of the oldest folktales in Suq'Ata society is about an assassin that trained a venomous serpent to hold itself in an upright position for endless hours. Then a simple illusion would be cast across it, so that the serpent appeared as nothing more than a simple wax candle. Once set into place on a noble's bedside, the snake would strike repeatedly at anyone who tried to put a match to its deadly head.

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Dominaria: Story and Lore from 2018

As is usual with this fan blog, we write and compile all useful information for the interested Vorthos, by world or block of sets (within a world!).  This article will highlight the 12 stories by author Martha Wells, as well as the Magic Story Podcast featuring portions of Dominaria lore and geography, and go into detail for the Sagas and Legendary Sorceries that Wizards described.

Magic Story: Return to Dominaria, by Martha Wells.

All 12 chapters can be read in the main Magic Story archive.

One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.  Nine.  Ten.  Eleven. Twelve. 


Art by Tyler Jacobson, copyright Wizards of the Coast.

Planar Description.

Dominaria Cartography by Ethan Fleischer

Dominaria Retrospective, by Mark Winters

The Historic cards of Dominaria

Sagas and Sorceries by Jay Annelli
An Art review of Sagas by Vorthos Mike
A brief history of Dominaria's Thallids by SEV8

Sagas of Sagas

The Mirari Conjecture
The Ice Age
The First Eruption of Shiv

Legendary Events: Sorceries

Karn's Temporal Sundering

(editor's note: none of the other Legendary Sorceries  or Sagas got a full description article!)

Individual Card Flavor for areas of Dominaria:
Memorials

All the legends from the set, with some history!

Story Podcasts: 

All Archives of Podcasts can be found on the official site.
Introducing Martha Wells.
Reintroducing Dominaria
Dominaria Geography
The Mending
The Church of Serra
The Cabal and Otaria




Art by: Svetlin Velinov, copyright Wizards of the Coast

More of the history of one of Dominaria's oldest Planeswalkers is revealed in the Core 2019 story

Chronicles of Nicol Bolas: Core 2019
by Kate Elliot

Part 1. The Twins

Part 2. The first lesson.  Where more is revealed about Bolas and Ugin.

Part 3. Things Unseen.

Part 4. Whispers of Treachery.

Part 5. Blood and Fire.

Part 6. A familiar stranger.

Part 7. A different Perspective than one before.

Part 8. The Unwritten, now.