Magi-Nation Duel - Starter deck contents

Today we're sharing a guide created by user - PenAgain.  You can see more of their work at: https://jlschwennen.wordpress.com/

This guide shows the decklists for all of the original Magi-Nation Duel Starter decks for all the sets- and lists how many cards were random, and which were set in each deck!  Enjoy!

Limited is the Base set of the game, with no subtitle. 
Unlimited is the Base set of the game, but the second printing.  It is usually marked, "unlimited"

Magi-Nation Started Deck Contents

LIMITED: Arderial Starter

MAGI

1x Nimbulo

1x Shimmer

1x Stradus
CREATURES

1x Lovian

2x Thunder Hyren

2x Alaban

3x Epik

3x Cloud Narth

3x Lightning Hyren

3x Pharan

2x Thunder Vashp

RELICS

1x Storm Ring

1x Channeler's Gloves

1x Mask of Abwyn

1x Robes of the Ages

2x Relic Stalker

3x Staff of Hyren
SPELLS

1x Eclipse

2x Fog Bank

3x Shockwave

3x Lightning

3x Shooting Star

LIMITED: Cald Starter

MAGI

1x Ashgar

1x Gar

1x Grega
CREATURES

1x Greater Vaal

3x Magma Hyren

2x Drakan

2x Lava Balamant

1x Quor Pup

3x Arbolit

3x Diobor

2x Fire Chogo

2x Kelthet

2x Quor

RELICS

2x Ancestral Flute

2x Baloo Root

2x Magma Armor
SPELLS

1x Spirit of the Flame

2x Flame Geyser

2x Syphon Vortex

3x Fire Ball

3x Fire Flow

2x Thermal Blast

LIMITED: Naroom Starter

MAGI

1x Evu

1x Tryn

1x Yaki
CREATURES

1x Bhatar

1x Timber Hyren

1x Twee

3x Balamant Pup

2x Rudwot

2x Arboll

3x Carillion

2x Furok

2x Leaf Hyren

2x Plith

2x Weebo
RELICS

1x Energy Band

1x Ancestral Flute

3x Hood of Hiding

3x Robe of Vines
SPELLS

1x Hyren's Call

2x Orwin's Gaze

2x Vortex of Knowledge

3x Grow

3x Tap Roots

LIMITED: Orothe Starter

MAGI

1x Blu

1x Ebylon

1x Orlon
CREATURES

1x Deep Hyren

1x Orathan

2x Abaquist

1x Karak

2x Paralit

3x Bwill

3x Corf

3x Orpus

3x Sea Barl

1x Sphor

2x Wellisk

1x Wellisk Pup

RELICS

1x Hubdra's Spear

1x Orothean Goggles

2x Mirror Pendant

1x Orothean Gloves
SPELLS

1x Entangle

3x Tidal Wave

3x Undertow

2x Implosion

3x Submerge

LIMITED: Underneath Starter

MAGI

1x Fossik

1x Gruk

1x Ulk
CREATURES

2x Giant Korrit

1x Ormagon

3x Agovo

2x Giant Vulbor

3x Korrit

2x Brub

3x Crystal Arboll

2x Gum-Gum

3x Pack Korrit

3x Parmalag

RELICS

1x Gloves of Crystal

1x Staff of Korrits

3x Digging Goggles

1x Relic Stalker
SPELLS

2x Bottomless Pit

3x Enrich

3x Burrow

2x Carnivorous Cave

UNLIMITED: Arderial Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Stradus

1x Shimmer

1x Lasada
CREATURES

2x Pharan

2x Cloud Narth

1x Lightning Hyren

1x Thunder Vashp

1x Xyx

1x Xyx Minor

RELICS

1x Relic Mirror

1x Book of Ages

1x Baloo Root

1x Arderial's Crown
SPELLS

1x Shockwave

1x Fog Bank

1x Eclipse

2x Lightning

2x Shooting Star

UNLIMITED: Cald Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Sinder

1x Grega

1x Gar
CREATURES

1x Kelthet

2x Lava Balamant

2x Arbolit

1x Quor Pup

1x Fire Grag

1x Fire Chogo
RELICS

1x Ancestral Flute

1x Water of Life

1x Robes of the Ages

1x Scroll of Fire

1x Magma Armor
SPELLS

1x Flame Geyser

1x Syphon Vortex

2x Fire ball

1x Fire Flow

1x Flame Control

UNLIMITED: Naroom Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Yaki

1x Pruitt

1x Poad
CREATURES

1x Giant Carillion

1x Weebo

2x Furok

1x Arboll

1x Carillion

1x Vinoc

1x Balamant Pup

1x Leaf Hyren

RELICS

1x Syphon Stone

1x Relic Stalker

1x Mirror Pendant

1x Book of Life
SPELLS

1x Tap Roots

1x Sap of Life

2x Grow

2x Vortex of Knowledge

UNLIMITED: Orothe Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Orthea

1x Orlon

1x Ebylon
CREATURES

1x Bwill

2x Sphor

2x Sea Barl

1x Corf

1x Paralit

1x Abaquist

1x Orpus

RELICS

1x Ring of Secrets

1x Channeler's Gloves

1x Dream Balm

1x Corf Pearl

1x Hubdra's Spear
SPELLS

1x Implosion

1x Will of Orothe

2x Submerge

1x Tidal Wave

UNLIMITED: Underneath Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Strag

1x Gruk

1x Gogor
CREATURES

1x Gum-Gum

1x Giant Parmalag

1x Bisiwog

2x Korrit

2x Crystal Arboll

1x Agovo

1x Cave Rudwot

RELICS
1x Relic Mirror

1x Baloo Root

1x Warrior's Boots

1x Digging Goggles

1x Gloves of Crystal
SPELLS

1x Bottomless Pit

2x Enrich

2x Burrow

AWAKENING: Core Starter (Variant 1)

RANDOM CARDS

1x R, 3x U, 7x C

MAGI

1x Evu

1x Morag

1x Nagsis
CREATURES

2x Arboll Stalker

2x Borgor

2x Dark Ayebaw

3x Grax

2x Shadow Vinoc

2x Shryque

2x Szalak

1x Wasperine

2x Wudge
RELICS

1x Agram's Armor

2x Collar of Despair
SPELLS

2x Corrupt

2x Dream Rift

2x Shadow Rain

1x Terrorize

2x Turn

AWAKENING: Core Starter (Variant 2)

RANDOM CARDS

1x R, 3x U, 7x C

MAGI

1x Harror

1x Lanyx

1x Morag
CREATURES

1x Brannix

1x Borgor

1x Dark Ayebaw

2x Grax

3x Core Grag

1x Shryque

1x Dryte Fiend

2x Magma Jile

1x Orok

1x Primat

1x Tragan

2x Trask

1x Vemment

RELICS

1x Agram's Armor

1x Arderian-Guard Wings

2x Collar of Despair

2x Shadow Bones
SPELLS

2x Dream Channel

2x Dream Rift

1x Maelstrom

1x Spectral Shield

AWAKENING: Core Starter (Variant 3)

RANDOM CARDS

1x R, 3x U, 7x C

MAGI

1x Ogar

1x Qwade

1x Warrada
CREATURES

1x Black Agovo

1x Chaos Jile

1x Colossus

2x Orok

1x Phrup

2x Tragan

2x Trask

1x Ugger

2x Weebat

2x Wudge

RELICS

2x Agram's Armor

2x Collar of Despair

1x Essence of Naroom

1x Shadow Bones
SPELLS

1x Dream Channel

1x Mind Blank

2x Nightmare Channel

2x Paranoia

2x Storm of Fishes

DREAM’S END: Weave Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 18x C

MAGI

1x Artyva

1x Bo'Ahsa

1x Iyori
CREATURES

1x Aritex

1x Drowl

1x Frusk

1x Jumbor

1x Junjertrug

1x Pagajack

1x Pody

1x Uwamar

1x Vuryip

1x Weggit

1x Yajo

1x Zassyfer
RELICS

1x Junjertrug Horn

1x Tuk Berries

1x Uwamar Beads

1x Weave Mat
SPELLS

1x Binding

1x Sawgrass

1x Sheath

DREAM’S END: Kybar’s Teeth Starter

RANDOM CARDS

2x R, 6x U, 18x C

MAGI

1x Emec

1x Wessig

1x Kazm
CREATURES

1x Yark

1x Sagawal

1x Stone Quor

1x Moga Pup

1x Moga

1x Granite Parmalag

1x Giant Chogus

1x Giant Baldar

1x Cragnoc

1x Crag Quor

1x Baldar

1x Agrilla

RELICS

1x Kybar's Scroll

1x Kybar's Hammer

1x Climbing Staff
SPELLS

1x Rock Slide

1x Jagged Rocks

1x Feet of Stone

1x Ascend

NIGHTMARE’S DAWN: Bograth Starter

RANDOM CARDS

Either 2x R, 6x U, 18x C

Or 2x R, 10x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Baa

1x Blygt

1x Grahnna
CREATURES

1x Bolobog

1x Green Stuff

1x Gremble (BG)

1x Mirago (BG)

1x Moob

1x Mydra (BG)

1x N'kala (BG)

1x Ooze Arboll

1x Ruid

1x Slarnath

1x Treepsh (BG)

1x Trulb

RELICS

1x Bog Stone

1x Great Pool of Wisdom

1x Moob Ring
SPELLS

1x Crushing Stench

1x Darkness

1x Spirit Drain (BG)

1x Trulb Horde

NIGHTMARE’S DAWN: Paradwyn Starter

RANDOM CARDS

Either 2x R, 6x U, 18x C

Or 2x R, 10x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Arawan

1x Iain

1x Kioko
CREATURES

1x Bagala

1x Bagala Cub

1x Ghazran

1x Hardshell Weebo

1x K'teeb Thumper (PW)

1x Khisp

1x Lahalou

1x Magor

1x N'kala (PW)

1x River Abaquist (PW)

1x Scarletsong Hwit

1x Vine Hyren
RELICS

1x Robe of Petals
SPELLS

1x Ambush

1x Bloom

1x Crushing Vines

1x Scarletsong's Trill

1x Stalk

1x Tropical Rain

VOICE OF THE STORMS: Nar Starter

RANDOM CARDS

Either 2x R, 6x U, 18x C

Or 2x R, 10x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Halsted

1x Koza

1x Velouria
CREATURES

1x Frost Hyren

1x Ice Furok

1x Gransaber

1x Ickle

1x Krenkrajak

1x Kintor

1x Korul

1x Mombak

1x Vrak

1x Yaw

1x Yaromant

1x Great White Narth

1x Furok Protector

1x Zyavu

RELICS
1x Hailstorm Pendant

1x Icefang Battlesled
SPELLS

1x Thin Ice

1x Shattering Wind

1x Crystallize

VOICE OF THE STORMS: d’Resh Starter

RANDOM CARDS

Either 2x R, 6x U, 18x C

Or 2x R, 10x U, 14x C

MAGI

1x Ahron

1x Ythra

1x Harresh
CREATURES

1x Venger

1x Sandstorm Xyx
1x Nemsa

1x Mowat

1x Bone Grag

1x Beeb

1x Olum Digger

1x Drahkar

1x Warrior Olum

1x Szhar

1x Thrybe

1x Olum

1x Xala
RELICS

1x Sun Glasses

1x Aubra's Canteen
SPELLS

1x Desiccate

1x Forgotten Songs

1x Forgotten Tales

1x Sunburn

Magi-Nation Duel 2020 Updates Part 1!

Welcome to another update article for Magi-Nation Duel, the fan continued Collectible Card Game!
These updates cover 2020 from January through April!

As always, our community operates through reddit, Discord (most active), and Facebook! We'd love to have you join us and tell your Magi-Nation Duel story, or play some games online with us!

Tournaments and Game Nights: 

Tournaments started in February of 2020, with an Open format tournament: allowing all 2i cards, even unreleased sets like Daybreak and unreleased promos.
Tournament 9: Bracket for Swiss rounds.  10 players completed for the title, with the top 4 showing some fierce battles!  
Here are the Rules and Top 4 Bracket!

Prizes are shown below!

Game Nights, April: The discord community had two Game Night for Magi-Nation Duel on Lackey in April to give people activities throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. Players from across the community gathered to play and watch live games!




Congratulations WhamBamSam!  This is his second online tournament win!  He won the previous Storyline Tournament 1: Seeds of Chaos (5th online tournament) in 2018!

New Art:

Whyrl continues to occasional draw Magi-Nation art. Here's a custom magi character she drew for user Cachinnus:

View this post on Instagram

Keeping it loose and breezy with Zephyr, @cachinnus 's Arderian ringsmith and I guess weirder of enormous multi-purpose magical mauls. Thanks again for wanting to resolve that little doodle! This was pretty chill. #sketch #drawing #pencildrawing #mnd #maginationduel #purplehair #wings #digitalcoloring #photoshop #doodle #myart

A post shared by Allie Strom (@alliebirdseed) on Nov 3, 2019 at 10:38pm PST

2nd image:

View this post on Instagram

Here we have the ringsmith Zephyr, attempting to figure out why her new Hyren ring doesn't appear to be working. Eventually she'll either look out the window, or her new friend will try to crawl inside her tiny workshop. Thanks again for your extreme patience on this drawing, and all of its iterations @cachinnus ! #zephyr #mnd #maginationduel #arderial #sketch #drawing #sketchpad #digitalcolor #photoshop #dragon #hyren

A post shared by Allie Strom (@alliebirdseed) on Dec 8, 2019 at 10:08pm PST

3rd image, sketch in the workshop:

View this post on Instagram

Getting there with the pencils, and about to try on some color studies. In the end, I have a feeling it's gonna come down to what the swirly big guy wants to do. The gem in the ring should also be eye catching. I really enjoyed drawing their expressions : X #drawing #sketching #wip #mixedmedia #graphite #prismacolor #colerase #dragon #hyren #maginationduel #nostalgic

A post shared by Allie Strom (@alliebirdseed) on Jul 24, 2019 at 9:17pm PDT

Lost Relics Found from the Great Vault: 

 

• There's a new update for the history: Storyline articles have synopses now!

• Game Boy updates:  Did you want to play the updated GBC game as a GBA game, but didn't know Japanese?  Some fans translated it, and it's playable on an emulator!  Be Dan!
  

         

• Jerry Lim continues to update the GBC music on YouTube!

          


That's all for now.  You can join the most active community discussion on the Discord channel!  More happening in 2020 during the pandemic! 

The World in the Walls (excerpt) by Christopher Plover

These are two discoveries of the Fillory and Further novels.  (From the Magicians, by Lev Grossman)

One is an excerpt from "The World in the Walls, below.  The other is a biography of Plover and the Chatwins, in a world that knows magic. 

The World in the Walls: Book I of Fillory and Further
By Christopher Plover

Chapter 1: The Wonderful Clock

Martin Chatwin was not an ordinary boy, but he thought that he was. In fact he was unusually clever and brave and kind for his age, he just didn’t know it. Martin thought that he was just an ordinary boy who lived in a rather nice but otherwise ordinary house in London, with two nice parents and four nice but occasionally absolutely infuriating brothers and sisters, and that was the end of it.
I find that this is very often the case. Extraordinary people tend to think that they’re ordinary, and the reverse is true as well — the world is filled with people who believe that they are special and unusual, when in fact they are mediocre in every possible respect. But even Martin would admit that what happened to him at his Aunt Maude’s house was out of the ordinary, if you asked him, which I’m sorry to say that you cannot do. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves — it hasn’t even happened yet.
When our story begins Martin isn’t living in London. He and the other Chatwin children-Fiona, Rupert, Helen and Jane-have been sent to Cornwall to live with their Aunt Maude, who was Mrs. Chatwin’s sister. Why this should have happened is difficult to explain, and Martin himself wasn’t at all sure that it had been properly explained to him. Apparently his father had gone away to fight the Germans at place called Passchendaele, which he could just about pronounce but not spell, and why the Germans needed fighting at all in the first place was very unclear. Meanwhile in his father’s absence his mother had become exhausted and had gone away to a place in the country that was supposed to be very quiet and restful, where she could recover in peace.
More than that Martin couldn’t get out of the adults he asked. Even though they looked at him very kindly and comfortingly, they were very stingy when it came to giving out actual information, as adults often are.
The house to which Martin and his siblings had been sent, Aunt Maude’s house, was in one of those tiny villages in north Cornwall that seem to exist by accident, tumbled in with huge boulders and rugged hills and old stone circles erected a long time ago by nobody is precisely sure who. The house was very grand — three stories tall, with a façade made of brick and stone, and enormous windows, and endless numbers of fireplaces and window seats and curving back stairs and other advantages which the Chatwins’ London house distinctly lacked. Among those advantages were the sprawling grounds around the house, which included long straight alles and white gravel paths and dark green pools of grass.
When I first met the Chatwin children they were arranged around the edge of a round fountain in back of Maude’s house, collars turned up and hands thrust in their coat pockets against the icy wind, trying to make some sense of their new surroundings. It was a chilly afternoon in late October, and I can only assume they’d been driven outside by that feeling of boredom and restlessness for the sake of which children will endure almost any discomfort. My own house was a mile or so away, closer to the village, and I had come over to make arrangements with Maude about the hunt next weekend, but she was not at home, and to be completely honest I was a little out of sorts at having made the trip for nothing.
The Chatwins were out of sorts too, or maybe it would be more accurate to say that they were both in and out of sorts at the same time — if you’ve ever had that happen you’ll know exactly what I mean. They missed their mother, and they were terribly worried about their father, but they were also very excited about their new situation — grand old house, a bare minimum of lessons, a crackle of important events in the air — and they also felt a bit guilty about feeling so excited, so they weren’t sure whether they were feeling happy or unhappy or excited or guilty, and in the end they felt a bit of each all at once.
The eldest Chatwin — who was 11, and who I did not know yet was named Martin — sized me up warily, as if he thought I might try to deprive him of his newfound kingdom.
“Who are you?” he said, not entirely politely. His face was sharp with precocious intelligence.
“My name’s Plover,” I replied. “I came to see Maude, but she isn’t here. Who are you?”
“I’m Martin. I’m Maude’s nephew. These are Fiona, Rupert, Helen and Jane. Jane’s the littlest, she won’t talk to anyone who wears whiskers, so try not to be offended. Rupes will talk your ears off, but you don’t have to listen. I never do.” “I see,” I said, and I imagine that I did. I didn’t feel offended at all. They were a curious little tribe, who’d obviously spent a lot of time looking after each other. You wouldn’t ever catch them saying or doing anything openly affectionate, or even particularly acknowledging one another’s existence, but at the same time a current of absolute loyalty ran between them, as if even then they shared some momentous secret.
“When do you suppose your aunt will be at home?” I asked. “I need to speak with her about the arrangements for the hunt.” (I’m sorry for repeating myself, but that is what I said, as Martin didn’t know it yet.)
“We don’t know. No one ever tells us anything. If you like I’ll help you with the hunt, I’m very good with horses. Everyone says so.” “I don’t,” his sister Fiona said lightly. “So not everyone does.”
“Martin’s got a big head because he came second at jumping at school,” Rupert said. “I’m not allowed to jump yet,” he added, as if I’d demanded clarification on that point. “What’s your horse’s name? Do you do ride a great deal?”
Little Jane merely regarded her reflection in the water with an air of melancholy thoughtfulness that seemed beyond her years. The fountain had absolutely monstrous goldfish swimming in it, and she was so small I worried that an enterprising fish might seize her by the hand and try to drag her under. Helen watched Jane watching herself, as if it were on the tip of her tongue to remind her that vanity was a sin.
“Buttons, and yes,” I said, and made my excuses. I really did need to find Maude.
I next saw Martin and his brothers and sisters the following weekend, on the day of the hunt. I wasn’t planning on going out, and neither was Maude. She wasn’t mad about hunting, nor was she mad about being a mother to her sister’s children, but she was exceptionally good at giving parties, so that’s what she did. She was so good at it that almost nobody bothered with much actual hunting anymore. Hardly anyone even wore red. When I arrrived, well-dressed individuals of all descriptions were posed in flattering attitudes around the first floor of the house and on the rear terrace.
Maude herself was in full cry and looking very sleek in a black dress well set off by a single long rope of pearls. The talk was mostly of the war-not being in it, everybody wanted to look as if they knew what it was like for those who were, and they wanted everyone else to know they had very good reasons for not being in it.
As a single man of what might charitably be ruled early middle age, I was something of an anomaly at the Maude’s parties. But I was not as much of an anomaly as the five Chatwin children. After the first hour they were bored of all the grown-up talk, even the grown-up talk that was intended to interest them, and they had stolen all of the hors-d’oeuvres that any self-respecting child could plausibly bring him or herself to eat. So naturally they slipped away up one of the curving back staircases to see what they could see.
I only learned much later of the adventures that befell them there. Of course I wasn’t there myself — these are the kinds of adventures grown-ups cannot go on. But Martin and the other Chatwins told me all about them later on, and I will tell you exactly what they told me.
Martin had a hobby, one that interested him and bored his younger siblings so intensely that it sometimes reduced little Jane to tears. His hobby was clockwork: he loved taking apart and then re-assembling the mechanisms of watches and clocks and little wind-up toys, though admittedly he was better at the first half of the operation than the second. A few days earlier he had encountered a truly stupendous specimen in a back corridor of one of the upper floors of his aunt’s house. It was a grandfather clock, a really wonderful timepiece with a face lavishly adorned with dials and numbers and zodiacal symbols, designed to keep track not only of the time of day but the months of the year and the seasons and the phases of the moon and goodness knows what else. Martin knew what else, and what he didn’t know he was determined to find out.
While Fiona and Rupert and Helen and Jane looked on, in various states of near-fatal ennui, Martin stared at the clock, observing the movements of its hands, until he was confident that he understood what function each of them was intended to perform. Only then did he gently open the glass case that covered its face.
“Martin, no,” Fiona said. “You’ll break it.”
“I won’t.”
“You know he won’t, Fi,” Helen said.
“But what if he does? We’ll all be blamed.”
“Martin could knock it over and stamp it to pieces and Aunt Maude wouldn’t notice,” Rupert said. “I doubt she’s been up here in 10 years. I don’t think she’s interested in this sort of thing. She probably doesn’t even know it’s here.”
At that moment, as if to make his case for him, someone downstairs began playing the piano and singing a tipsy chorus.
“Somebody must come up here to wind the thing, anyway,” Fiona said. And it was true, the clock was ticking and tocking along heartily.
“It’s immaterial,” Martin said, never taking his eye off his quarry. He had discovered that he could use words like that correctly, and he loved doing it. “I won’t break it. Bother, I can’t get at the works this way.”
He closed the glass case and turned his attention to the large wooden cabinet that made up the body of the clock. But it was locked. He felt around for a key — in his experience they were generally left on top of the item in question — but whoever was in charge of winding the clock had kept the key for him or herself.
While Martin pondered this new setback, silent Jane stole forward. Removing two pins from her hair, she pushed them in the keyhole of the cabinet. She spent the next minute quietly manipulating them, pushing and nudging the hidden tumblers in ways the others couldn’t see. Then the lock clicked open.
She withdrew again, without a word.
“Thanks, Janey,” Martin muttered, abashed. He had long since learned that he could never, ever know what to expect from his youngest sister.
Martin thought he knew what to expect from clocks — it was one of the things he liked most about them. When he opened the door he did the first thing he always did when he was trying to disassemble a complicated, expensive, forbidden device: he stopped it, in this case by taking the pendulum in his hand and preventing it from swinging. Once he had done so he was surprised for the second time in the span of a minute: the clock continued to tick along happily, oblivious to the fact that there was no obvious way it could justify doing so. Now, Martin liked things that came with explanations, and of late he had been experiencing a marked shortage of them. But he was not easily daunted. After all, since the war began he had become, not just the father of his little family, but for all intents and purposes a widower at the age of 11. A newfangled technique for driving clockwork was not about to stop him in his tracks. He proceeded — as any English boy in his position would have done — to stick his head inside the clock.
But now there was another thing that demanded explaining, or three things to be exact: the gentle breeze that issued from the open cabinet, and the smell of sweet grass that it carried with it, and the sound of a whinnying horse and the clash of arms.
I wish now that I could have been there, to tell him to turn back. But I didn’t know then what I know now, and in any case I was downstairs playing “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows” on the piano, and not very well at that. And even if I had told him, no force in this world or any other could have held Martin back from his destiny at that moment.

The Gathering Storm - Chapter Twenty (Official Magic Story)

The Gathering Storm - by Django Wexler
Chapter Twenty (final chapter!)


Vraska and Lavinia. Ral looked at the pair of them and narrowed his eyes. But it's not, is it?
         
          "Lavinia would never work for Bolas," he said aloud. "Not voluntarily."
         
          "He has a sort of . . . emissary," Kaya said. "A fragment of his spirit, I think. It can control people."
         
          Ral, remembering Glademaster Garo and his attempted coup at Selesnya, nodded slowly. "I've met the thing."
         
          "So . . ." Hekara said. "Is she on our side, or their side, or what?"
         
          "She's on their side," Ral said. "But try not to kill her."
         
          "Ah, Ral," Lavinia said, stepping forward. The voice was hers, but the tone, the manner, was all wrong. It was Bolas, or at least the fragment of Bolas that had been flitting around Ravnica. "In the old days, such concerns would never have troubled you. When did you get so soft-hearted?"
         
          "When I got away from you," Ral said.
         
          "So quick to anger, too." Lavinia put on a self-satisfied smirk. "Almost like you have something to be ashamed of."
         
          "I've done a great many things I'm ashamed of," Ral said. He looked at Vraska. "That doesn't mean I have to add to my sins by helping him."
         
          "Don't pretend you understand me, Zarek," Vraska said, loosening her saber in its scabbard. "And don't try to claim the moral high ground here. There's a ruined city full of my people you have to account for."
         
          "We had no choice," Ral said. "If you hadn't betrayed us in the first place—"
         
          His eyes went back to Lavinia, who was still smiling. Ral stopped abruptly.
         
          "They want to drag this out," he said quietly. "If Bolas gets away from Niv-Mizzet, he can smash this place to fragments. We have to end this as quickly as we can."
         
          Kaya gave a grim nod. "So what's the plan?"
         
          "I'll handle Lavinia." Power crackled in his hands. "I can probably stun her. You and Hekara keep Vraska busy. Don't get too close, she can—"
         
          "I've fought gorgons before," Kaya said. "I can handle myself."
         
          "And besides, turning to stone might be fun," Hekara said. "I would try to make sort of a silly face, like bleh! And then that'd be a statue forever."
         
          "Let's try to avoid that," Ral said.
         
          He stepped to the left, toward Lavinia, while Kaya circled to the right and Hekara walked nonchalantly down the middle. Vraska and Lavinia both drew their swords, matching their opponents. Ral gave the gorgon a last glance, then shook his head and concentrated on his own opponent. I hope Kaya's high opinion of herself is justified.
         
          He'd never seen Lavinia fight. In her Azorius days, however, she'd been a famed duelist, and her crisp stance with the blade indicated she hadn't let her skills go to rust. Ral raised one hand and launched an exploratory bolt of lightning, which crackled across the room and earthed itself on her chest. Lavinia didn't flinch, and magic glowed from her armor.
         
          Lightning ward. Like Glademaster Garo, she'd come prepared. So this isn't going to be easy.
         
          Another step forward, and Lavinia moved, as suddenly as if he'd crossed a tripwire. Her footwork was so smooth she seemed to flow over the ground, sword flicking out in a casual thrust that would have run Ral through the throat. He sidestepped, caught her next swing on the steel bracer extending back from his mizzium gauntlet, and let loose a burst of lightning at close range. This time Lavinia did flinch, but only slightly, and the lightning ward buzzed as it consumed most of the power. Lavinia reversed her swing, and Ral retreated to put a steel support pillar between them. He thought furiously as she circled around.
         
          I could overload the ward. That's what he'd done to Garo, but it had its risks. It would use up much of the power left in his accumulator, and probably kill Lavinia if he didn't gauge the discharge just write. Damn, damn, damn. I should have insisted on sending someone with her. She said she was tracking down Bolas's lead agent—that has to be Tezzeret. He must have gotten the drop on her.
         
          "What's the matter, Ral?" Lavinia said, in Bolas's mocking tone. "You don't seem to be throwing yourself into violence with your usual verve."
         
          "Why Lavinia?" Ral said, circling cautiously. "If you wanted someone here to stop me, why not send Tezzeret?"
         
          "Because you'd love the chance to settle the score with Tezzeret," Bolas said. He made Lavinia's face pout, the expression looking utterly unnatural on her. "But hurting poor Lavinia will break your heart."
         
          "Break my heart?" Ral said, incredulously. "This is to hurt me?"
         
          "Oh, you have no idea what I'm going to do to you," Bolas said. "I don't like it when people don't pay their debts, Ral Zarek. I made you what you are, and when I asked for a favor in return, you turned your back on me. For that, Lavinia's going to die. Your friends here will die. But you I will keep, because you are going to watch everyone you care for die screaming. Starting with poor little Tomik. Such a nice boy." Lavinia's lips twisted unnaturally into the dragon's awful grin.
         
          Ral did his best to keep a lid on his anger. "Seems like a lot of work for someone busy taking over the Multiverse."
         
          "It's worthwhile to pay my debts. It . . . creates a useful reputation. Besides, it amuses me." Bolas shrugged. "On the other hand, maybe I'll just kill you here and now. We'll have to see—"
         
          Lavinia shot forward again, fast enough that Ral nearly missed the move and got skewered. He threw himself to one side as her sword scraped against the support pillar, drawing sparks. Her leg hooked out and wrapped around his, sending him tumbling to the floor, and he rolled sideways just in time to avoid a downward strike. Ral put his hands out, unleashing a powerful burst of energy, and the force of it picked Lavinia up and hurled her against a pillar. Her armor rang against it with a sound like a gong, and she dropped to one knee.
         
          Ral grabbed a hanging cable and hauled himself to his feet. Lavinia straightened up as well, a line of red dribbling from the corner of her mouth.
         
          "Oh, I felt that." Her lip quirked. "Or rather, Lavinia did. Careful with your toys, Ral, or you'll end up breaking them."
         
          Damn and double damn. He glanced briefly over his shoulder and saw Vraska and Kaya dancing among the steel pillars. Kaya couldn't seem to get close enough to use her daggers, but her ability to simply walk through the obstacles had kept her out of the way of Vraska's serrated sword and away from her deadly gaze thus far. Hekara lurked at the edge of the fight, sending razor-edged projectiles at the gorgon whenever she had a clear shot.
         
          Holding their own, but not winning. And Bolas had to be getting closer. We need to get past them—
         
          Ral glanced at the security keyboard, but Lavinia followed his gaze and shook his head.
         
          "Thinking of running out on me, Zarek? The dance is only half done." She raised her blade. "Come on, then."
         
          No choice. Ral let power gather in his gauntlets as he closed the distance. He ducked under a slash, blocked another with his bracer, and reached for Lavinia. She spun away, laughing and cutting at him from another angle. Ral went after her, pent-up power in his gauntlets growing white-hot, but she was too fast. Her counterstrokes nearly caught him several times, and he had to desperately backpedal to avoid a quick sideways cut.
         
          "Ral!" A pair of Hekara's knives sailed past Lavinia, making her take a half-step back. The razorwitch summoned more, blades dropped into existence in her hands, and Lavinia ducked and dodged through the pillars, the knives caroming off the steel. Ral, catching his breath, went after her.
         
          "Try and hold her attention!" Ral called.
         
          "That's what she said!" Hekara called back.
         
          "I don't—" Ral shook his head as the girl cackled, and kept his mind on the fight.
         
          Having to watch Hekara restricted Lavinia's movements, and Ral quickly closed in. Soon Lavinia was on the defensive, slashing to keep him away while she ducked and dodged the barrage of blades. Ral waited until one strike came a little too far forward, then bulled into it, scraping the sword away with one bracer as he brought his other hand around, crackling with deadly power—
         
          "Ral!" Lavinia shouted, in her own voice. "Don't!"
         
          Ral hesitated. Not for long, but it was enough. Bolas's smile coiled across Lavinia's face, and she kicked him in the stomach, doubling him over. He sank to his knees, gasping for breath.
         
          "Idiot," Bolas said, as Lavinia's sword came forward.
         
          There was a moment of frantic motion, and then a moment of stillness.
         
          The three of them were close, close enough to embrace. Ral, struggling to rise, and Lavinia, her blade extended. Between them was Hekara, taking Lavinia's sword high in the chest. It passed cleanly through her leather-motley suit, the tip emerging a few inches from her back just inside the shoulder blade, far enough to dimple Ral's skin without piercing it.
         
          Ral's caught her before she could fall. "Hekara!"
         
          She leaned back to look up at him, still grinning. "Mates, right?"
         
          "Mates," Ral said, through gritted teeth.
         
          "'Sides," Hekara said, her hands coming up to touch the spot where Lavinia's sword entered her flesh, "never been stabbed all the way through before. Always wondered what it was like." She coughed, spraying blood across the steel, and stared at it in fascination. "'S not so bad. Doesn't hurt as much as I thought."
         
          Lavinia stepped away, pulling her sword free with a tooth-rattling scrape of blade on bone. Hekara's eyes went very wide, and a gout of blood pulsed from the wound.
         
          "Oh," she said in a small voice. "That's more like it." And she died, with a little shiver that jangled the bells in her hair.
         
          "You see, Ral?" Bolas said. "You see what your mercy gets you—"
         
          Ral surged to his feet with a roar, springing across Hekara's body. Lavinia pivoted and swung, and Ral blocked with his bracer, sword impacting with bone-shaking force. Before she could pull it away, his other hand shot out, grabbing the blade near the base. It cut into his palm, but he didn't care—power surged through him, flowing down the wires linking his accumulator to his gauntlets, torrenting into the steel. The blade began to smoke, and Lavinia let go of it reflexively as it grew too hot to touch. It sizzled as it hit the floor, glowing cherry-red, slowly losing its shape as it melted into a pool of slag.
         
          Lavinia danced backward, but Ral stayed with her, grabbing her arm and yanking her off balance. She aimed a kick at his midsection, and he accepted it with a grunt, his other hand grabbing for her throat. There was something there, a bit of metal with a glowing crystal in it, that Ral had seen when she'd leaned in to stab Hekara. He didn't know what it was, but the look of the thing made its origin unmistakable. Tezzeret. He grabbed it and yanked it free.
         
          "Still you persist in your attempt to—" Lavinia, backing away from him, stumbled and clutched at her head. "No. Stop it." And then, in a voice much more like Lavinia's own, she bellowed, "Get out of my head!"
         
          She doubled over, clutching her skull, and something burst out of her. A misty, spectral shape took form above her as she collapsed to the floor. It was indistinct, but nevertheless Ral could see its outlines—vaguely humanoid, but the head was topped by long, curving horns.
         
          Poor fools. The voice was Bolas through and through, now, scraping against Ral's thoughts. All I have to do is find another body. You know you can't stop me.
         
          "He can't," said Kaya, emerging through a pillar in a burst of purple light, "but I sure as hell can." A pair of daggers, ablaze with energy, caught the Bolas-thing in the back. "I think we are all very sick of you."
         
          The spirit made a sound that started as a dragon's roar and rose to a teakettle scream. Its incorporeal form writhed, then blew apart like a dandelion touched by the wind, bits of its essence scattered in all directions before fading away.
         
          "Hated that bloody thing," Kaya muttered. Then, taking in the two women on the floor, her breath caught. "Hekara—"
         
          "Kaya, down!" Ral shouted. His hand came up, and lightning crackled out, but his aim was off and it struck and earthed on the steel pillar beside Vraska. The gorgon swung around it, serrated sword whistling through the air.
         
          Kaya got her daggers up in time to block the cut, but the force of the blow knocked her back. Before she could recover, Vraska brought the saber around in a vicious pommel strike that cracked the guard against Kaya's temple. Kaya crumpled, laid out on the floor beside Hekara and Lavinia. Vraska stalked past the three unmoving bodies, tendrils spread and writhing, focused on Ral.
         
          "Brave girl," Vraska hissed. "But foolish, to take her eyes off the more dangerous opponent."
         
          Ral gave ground, backing toward the outside edge of the room. He sent a bolt of lightning at the gorgon, but she dodged behind a steel pillar, and his electricity wrapped uselessly around it.
         
          "I, on the other hand, have been watching you," Vraska said. "And what I know is that you spent entirely too much of your power. Melting Lavinia's sword?" She clicked her tongue. "Surely that was unnecessary."
         
          "I have enough left to deal with you," Ral said, still backing up. He didn't dare let her close—at short range, there was no way to avoid the gorgon's deadly gaze. Electricity still crackled over his gauntlets, but Vraska was right. He'd spent power recklessly, here and fighting the soldiers down below.
         
          "Then do it." Vraska stepped away from the pillar, matching Ral's easy steps backward. They were well away from the core of the beacon now, approaching the exterior of the dome. "Blast me to pieces. Go on." When he didn't move, her grin widened, tongue darting over sharp teeth. "As I said."
         
          "Is this really what you want?" Ral said, letting a hint of desperation into his voice. "For Bolas to win? You think he'll let you keep running your little empire?"
         
          "Of course not," Vraska said. "I'm sure he'll kill me as soon as I'm no longer useful."
         
          "Then—"
         
          "But you're missing the point," Vraska said. "He's going to win anyway. Niv-Mizzet can't stop him. Your beacon won't stop him. And if the only chance for the Golgari to survive is to join the winning side . . ." She shrugged. "I have to take it. No matter what the cost."
         
          "He lies. You should know that. Whatever he's promised you, he has no reason to deliver."
         
          "I know." Vraska's eyes narrowed. "But it's all I've got."
         
          Ral's back came up against the copper dome. Vraska licked her lips.
         
          "Nowhere to run, Zarek." She levelled her sword. "We've done this before. And this time, there's no angel to rescue you."
         
          "There isn't," Ral agreed. "But this time, we're on my turf, not yours."
         
          He reached up, and found the edge of one of the gratings that let wires and conduits pierce the dome and reach the outside of the tower. It was made of thin copper wire, twisted together, and Ral sent all the power left in his backpack running through it. It sparked, then sagged, melting away. Cables flopped to the ground, leaving an opening in the dome a yard square.
         
          Outside, the storm had finally broken. Rain drummed down on the city in torrents, ringing on the dome and sluicing off it in sheets. The dark clouds that had hovered all day had descended, and bright bolts leapt from one to the next, followed by distant peals of thunder. Ral could feel their power echoed inside him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He smiled, very slowly.
         
          "You beat me when we fought in the Undercity," he said. "Now let me show you how powerful I am here, under the skies of Ravnica!"
         
          Vraska snarled and lunged forward, eyes beginning to glow with their killing light. But it was far too late. Lightning arced out from the closest clouds, a dozen strokes at once, groping like searching fingers for the hole in the dome. They threaded through it like the eye of a needle and slammed into Ral, surrounding him with a crackling, scintillating aura of brilliant white. Every hair on his head stood on end. Pieces of his backpack whined and fused, but he didn't need it, not now. He raised one hand, and let the power flow. The bolt was a monster, fed by the pent-up energy of the long-denied storm, and it crossed the space between him and Vraska in a fraction of a second.
         
          When the light faded, she was gone, replaced by a long smoking streak on the steel floor.
         
          Ral staggered as the power faded. Channeling that much was difficult, even for him, and combined with everything that had come before he suddenly felt as though he'd run laps around the Tenth District. Nearly done. He forced himself to keep moving, lurching across the room.
         
          He knelt beside Hekara, on her back in a pool of crimson, and reached down to close her staring eyes. Beside her lay Lavinia, and Ral made sure she was breathing easily. He did the same for Kaya, a few paces further on; there was blood on her head where Vraska's sword-hilt had cut her, but it didn't look like the blow had cracked her skull. Satisfied she would be all right, he struggled to his feet and shuffled onward.
         
          When he finally stood in front of the beacon, staring down at the security keyboard, his mind went suddenly blank. For a moment, his stomach churned, terrified.
         
          Elias. A bit of music his lover had tapped on a keyboard, a lifetime ago. Before everything. Ral reached down, hand trembling, and pressed the keys.
         
          With a hiss, the core of the beacon opened. Above the keyboard, a single large button emerged from a locked compartment. Only one control, in the end, because the beacon had only one function. Once it was turned on, its light would shine across the Multiverse.
         
          The button was, of course, bright red. What Izzet engineer could resist?
         
          Well. Ral stared at it for a moment, then took a deep breath. It's time to roll the dice.
         
          He brought his hand down hard.

 

---

 

          Deep under the city, the kraul death priest Mazirek scuttled through a damp tunnel. Storrev glided along beside him, resplendent in her rotten finery, and an escort of Erstwhile flanked the pair of them. Mazirek paid the zombies little heed; his mind was elsewhere.  

          Storrev had brought a message arranging a meeting. She didn't know the source, but it was obvious to Mazirek, given the timing. Bolas. With Vraska gone to serve the dragon directly—and hopefully to die painfully—Bolas had promised Mazirek leadership of the Golgari. Finally, the power I deserve. The time had come for the dragon to deliver on his pledges.

          But he didn't know where this messenger was supposed to be meeting him. These were passages he'd never entered before, veering close to the surface and interlaced in places with the basements of some parts of the upper city. It made sense—Bolas was a creature of the surface in the end, and like all surface dwellers he was uncomfortable venturing too far into the underground kingdom of the Swarm. Still, Mazirek looked around a little nervously as Storrev led him through an archway of natural stone and into a larger cavern, which looked like it had been enlarged by human hands.

          "How much farther to this messenger?" Mazirek said, the words slurred and strewn with clicks.

          "I believe we have arrived." Storrev looked around the broad, dark chamber. "We have only to wait."

          "I do not like waiting." Mazirek's many eyes narrowed. "Have you lied to me, Storrev?"

          He let power bleed into his voice. He was the one who had awoken the Erstwhile. None of them, even free-willed liches like Storrev, could disobey a direct order or refuse a question.

          "No, my lord." The lich bowed. "I received a message requesting a meeting. I have brought you to the place it specified."

          "A message from whom?"

          "No one I know," Storrev said.

          Not Vraska, then. Mazirek was still half-convinced this was some trap of the gorgon's. He looked around, irritably, and caught the glint of burning torches against the moisture-slick walls. A man was approaching, wrapped in a hooded cloak.

          "You!" Mazirek clicked at him. "You are the messenger."

          "Yeah," he grunted. "I'm Brutus, of Brutus's Improvised Comedy Fun-Time Show." His hood fell back, revealing a large, bald head, layered over with scars.

          "Comedy show?" Mazirek said. "What nonsense is this?"

          "You don't look very funny," Storrev said.

          "Lotta people say that," Brutus rumbled. He reached under his cloak and came up with a huge butcher's cleaver, flecked with rust and dried blood. "But wait till you hear the punchline."

          "What?" Mazirek chittered. "Are you threatening us?"

          "Nope," Brutus said. "Just doing a favor for Hekara. She asked me to tell you that Vraska sends her regards."

          "Insolent—"

          Mazirek raised one claw to obliterate the fool, then paused as something moved in the dark. More figures in Rakdos red and black emerged into the light of the torch, all around them, broad-shouldered and well-armed. None of them looked particularly interested in comedy.

          "Storrev!" the kraul screeched. "You knew."

          "I did," the lich said. "Though, as I said, I have never met Brutus before."

          "You will defend me," he said. "You and your Erstwhile. Defend me to the death!"

          Storrev inclined her head. "I knew you would order that, as well."

          The Rakdos thugs closed in.

          "You will be destroyed!" Mazirek shouted.

          "Sacrifices are necessary," Storrev said. "The rest of us will be free."

          Mazirek turned away from her with a snarl, death magic leaping from his claws. There were a few moments of frantic violence, then silence, broken only by ugly chuckle of Brutus's laughter.

 

---

          It was autumn in Ravnica, and so it rained. The torrent from the sky splashed over gutters full of shattered glass and broken bricks, and drummed on the ruins of shops and houses. It soaked the clothes of corpses, cut down in the streets or half-buried in their broken homes. It cleaned the smoke out of the air, and banished the smell of burning metal. In places, where the sewer lines had been broken, it gathered into vast, stagnant pools.
         
          The rain soaked Tezzeret to the bone, weighing down his dreadlocks and soaking his robe. It beaded and ran down the surface of his metal arm, dripping from his clawed fingers. He shook his head, spraying water, as he turned the corner from a street that was half rubble and came into the presence of his master.
         
          Nicol Bolas sat in the wreckage of a row of houses, a pile of smashed bricks and shattered rafters for his throne. He looked, to Tezzeret's surprise, very much the worse for wear. Scorch marks and broken scales were all over his enormous body, and one huge burn on his chest was crisscrossed with deep cuts that wept black blood. None of it seemed to bother the dragon unduly, though, and as Tezzeret watched the wounds began to close.
         
          In one hand he held a huge white skull, which could only have belonged to another dragon nearly as large as Bolas himself. Scoured clean of flesh, it rested in the palm of Bolas's enormous hand, and Bolas regarded it with a mixture of pride and something like sadness.
         
          This world doesn't have a chance. Tezzeret permitted himself a private grin. It never did.
         
          He crossed the street and knelt in front of the dragon. Bolas contemplated the skull for a moment longer, then set it carefully aside and looked down at Tezzeret.
         
          "My faithful servant." Bolas's urbane tone, in person, was undercut by the deep bass of the dragon's rumble. "You have news?"
         
          "Yes, master." Tezzeret got to his feet. "Matters are proceeding well, and we have encountered no significant resistance so far."
         
          "You have not." Bolas glanced at the skull. "No matter. What else?"
         
          "Ral Zarek has reached the Beacon Tower," Tezzeret said, cautiously. "Vraska and your . . . ah, spirit confronted him, but they were successful. The spirit was destroyed, and Vraska's fate is uncertain."
         
          "And the beacon?"
         
          Bolas had to know. Tezzeret had known, the moment it had happened. The beacon burned in his mind, a bright flame visible to any Planeswalker, an invitation to Ravnica. He cleared his throat.
         
          "He has activated it, master."
         
          "I see." A slow smile spread across the dragon's enormous face. "Then everything is going according to plan."

The End