[Game thread]Magic The Gathering

[BFG]

  On 6/18/2017 at 2:32 AM, Shad_ said:

I don't mind inactive people hanging around in the mod queues. Advanced especially is a crazy long wait and if you can't drop everything and run a game when your turn finally comes up, that shouldn't be grounds for removal. But I think we need to start notifying the next person up once a game starts and if they don't respond in like four or five days, automatically moving on to the next person. There've been a lot of long delays between sign-up threads lately.

Sooh said she'd tried to get hold of Hallia a few days ago

[Sooh]

I poked her on discord. 

 

She said something about having forgotten, but then nothing more, so idk. 

[E James Todd]

So because this is still a thing that I'm working on, and because a bunch of life stuff happened too, here is a chunk of the ending. I am still working on more, but it's sort of huge. In the meantime, have this to enjoy.

 

/\

< • >

\/

With the commanding impetus vanished from the elemental it became a mindless killing machine – an effective one, to be sure, but one the Phyrexians could outclass with ease. Chandra could already see they were on borrowed time. Picking up the animist’s staff and sickened that she had to make the choice, she set the elf’s body alight. The fallen would not be turned into nightmares if she had anything to say about it.

 

She sensed a flare of mana behind her, and the summon that had been Nissa’s last act of defiance faltered in its path forward. There was a great rush of air towards it, almost as if it were inhaling its dying breath. Its body glowed a vigorous yellow-orange, and as it collapsed into an intense mote of energy there was a brief feeling of chill near it. A tiny portion of Chandra’s mind registered these facts and knew without a doubt that whatever was about to happen would hurt like the hells in the flesh.

 

The force of the elemental’s death-flash felt like a localized thunder strike. It sent out a final ring of flame that cut through the minions as if they were warm butter on a summer afternoon. She only had an instant to laugh at the comparison before the compacted air knocked her flat on her back, blacking out her vision and leaving a loud ringing in her ears. Her mouth gaped like a fish as she choked for air. It felt like the whole of the Consulate’s Spire had fallen on her chest!

 

She forced herself to sit upright, yanking her hair out of her face and readying spells to break free from being surrounded. Instead, the battlefield had fallen silent, or as silent as it could with the reanimated dead still picking themselves up.

 

The Phyrexian forces had all turned toward the entrance under their control, genuflecting in reverence for a new arrival. Its spindly limbs and train of crimson….well, Chandra hoped it was cloth, but you couldn’t tell with the Phyrexians – seemed to mark it as an individual of great status. That, and the fact that it stood half a man’s height above the rest, and the ridiculous bony thing that stood for its head.

 

It surveyed the battlefield with metered patience, taking no seeming interest in the interlopers and sudden robbery of their stock of cadavers. “It appears that there are some who are incompleat within our blessed Annex,” it intoned, its voice surprisingly strong and feminine. “Release one of the newly-born obliterators to free them from their fleshly prisons. There are also idolatrous profanities that tread upon our sacred soil. Dispose of them. Let all be filled with the glory of Phyrexia.”

 

It – she? – raised her hands as if offering a benediction, and the rabble marched off without a backwards glance. They began laying into the bulk of the undead Mirrans, taking nearly as many casualties as they struck down. The newcomer regarded the skirmish for a time before clasping her hands behind her. “You will pardon the chattel for their humility,” she called out to them, marking out a wide circle around the courtyard. Her footsteps rang out with unnatural weight, their methodical pace ringing out above the distant sounds of slaughter. “It is one of the few imperfections that remain in them. But they are useful tools; see how quickly they carve through your inferior forces! And like all tools, those that break can be reforged, upgraded and quenched in the oil of glistening progress.”

 

Chandra stepped carefully towards Liliana, never taking her eyes off the new threat in spite of the close proximity to undead. The stranger regarded one of the defenders, idly nudging it with one of her feet to better examine it. “A pity you had to waste your comrade as you did; I would have rewarded either of you dearly for the chance to study her. Not that I would ever do so myself, of course; I leave such things to Jin-Gitaxias and his ilk. I suppose even the obsessively paranoid have their uses. But speaking with one who could command these…’elementals’ would have been incredibly enlightening for our goal.”

 

The pyromancer gave a humorless laugh. “Right, I’m sure. What’s that, exactly?”

 

The Phyrexian looked up from her musings, lasering in on Chandra. “To end suffering, of course. Does it not pain you when you remember Kiran?”

 

Chandra felt the blood draining from her face. She leaned on Nissa’s staff. “How do you know that name?” she whispered.

 

“The same way I know that it was Baral who took your father away from you.” The voice had become strangely comforting now, and it was disconcerting how sorrowful it sounded. “I know the Consulate did a great number of terrible things to you and your family, and none of them kind. We could help to mend that. We could bring justice for the Nalaar family.”

 

The Phyrexian turned to Liliana, leaving Chandra with a blank stare and pale-white complexion. “And you. Necromancer. So much older than you look, but so many chains holding you back. We could break them all, and break the yoke of servitude tying you to these demons. You would be free to wield all that power of yours without fear of consequences.”

 

Silence. Chandra could suddenly feel the subtle manipulations the stranger had woven into her words, a subtle but powerful magic that no doubt helped command her army of devotees. She shook her head, attempting to dispel what was left of the compulsions. That bony arrowheaded slink! She could open an attack on her if Liliana could distract her. If Liliana hadn’t fallen prey to her machinations.

 

Her fellow planeswalker let out a sigh, chuckling as she did. “The thing about demons,” she informed the Phyrexian as her contingent of the undead army lurched forward, “is that you learn how to spot the truth within the body of lies. Your words sound entirely too much like most demons’ for my liking. Besides, if you know I consort with demons, you know what I did to the last two I made deals with.” She stretched out her hand, and her army hastened forward. “As a matter of fact, that sounds like an excellent thing to do to you.”

 

The Phyrexian shook her head, unclasping her hands. “Such a shame. I had hoped we could discuss the possibility of cooperation as civilized beings.”

 

The stranger didn’t even move as the horde threatened to overtake her. She raised her hand raised toward the sky, condensing mana into a visible and tangible form. In the blink of an eye it set off, rapidly calcifying and crumbling away the bodies in an unseen wind. Chandra barely had time to shield her eyes from the dust. When the blast passed her by she dropped Nissa’s staff, readying herself for battle. She noted the surprise in Liliana’s eyes, but the necromancer had a similar notion of retaliation and was readying spells of her own.

 

“Did you really think this confrontation would be decided by minions?” the Phyrexian taunted, her voice growing louder as she drew herself up to the full of her height. “Have more faith in me than that. Before this day is done you shall know why the name Elesh Norn is feared throughout the entirety of Phyrexia!”

 

•

Sarkhan came to with a sudden intake of breath, reeling as the world snapped into focus. The blinding pain he expected in his temple was completely absent, the product no doubt of the toned leonin that seemed to be leaving him for the scholar. He sat upright and found that they were surrounded by many more of the cat-men, and less importantly that his hair now had twigs and bark flakes enmeshed in its locks. Using his fingers as a primitive comb he removed as many of the particulates as he could find, rising from his prone position on the ground.

 

Ajani was conferring with one of the new arrivals, and from the way he was pointing they were being caught up on recent events. It couldn’t have been long, for the sun was still in much the same place. There did seem to be a general dearth of Phyrexians left, though their influence was unmistakably present; there were still sporadic fires in the clearing before them, and what looked to be the charred remains of the Phyrexian taskmaster near a soot-stained area of earth.

 

Picking himself up off the ground he made for the other conscious planeswalker. “What do we know?” he inquired.

 

The albino leonin shook his head. “Not nearly enough.” He crossed his arms, surveying the blighted land in front of them. “If I had to make a guess, I would say the remainder took off when that traitor attacked. It’s possible that there may be a strike on its way.”

 

Sarkhan nodded, barely registering Tamiyo’s sudden gasp behind them. “Who are your friends?”

 

“My pride.” The other leonin stood suddenly taller at Ajani’s words. “They heard my call and came running. With them by our side, we’ll have no trouble ousting what remains of the Phyrexians.”

 

The shaman conducted a quick head count. Some two dozen trained warriors who knew the jungles as their homes, and three planeswalkers besides, against what appeared to be no more than helpless spawn? If anything, their situation spoke more of overkill than an evenly-matched clash of forces.

 

At that moment a sudden ripping sound echoed upward. A bright disclike hole lit up the evening, the surface showing beyond it a strange world of metal and smoke. And standing upon the strange ground beyond was—

 

Ajani set down his axe in disbelief, staring at the new sight. “Well,” he managed, his eyes wide with shock, “those are...we appear to no longer be evenly matched.”

 

Sarkhan could hardly look away himself. He had gone up against great odds before, but this defied all reason. He doubted the combined might of the bloodthirsty Mardu hordes could even stand against what they saw beyond the portal.

 

Tamiyo came up behind them, gasping aloud and muttering something under her breath. “Kami protect us,” she whispered. “Is that—”

 

“Yes,” Sarkhan finished.

 

“And is this all that we—”

 

“Yes,” Ajani interrupted.

 

“Oh.” The realization shot home the full might of what the Phyrexians were about to bring against them, and Sarkhan sent a prayer to his ancestors. When the scholar spoke again her voice was filled with a bitter acceptance. “So this means that we’re—”

 

“Probably,” the leonin warrior to Ajani’s left finished.

 

•

Elspeth did not like leaving her comrades alone to battle who-knew-what, and she certainly didn’t think the second explosion that reverberated through the Annex. That she had to do it while slinking around ground on her, but not enough to make her wish for open conflict. Even Dack seemed to understand the gravity of the situation; she hadn’t heard a peep from him since they escaped in the commotion outside.

 

She crouched down low as they rounded a corner, Godsend drawn and ready. So far they had managed, by dumb luck, to find themselves in smaller corridors. She considered it an unasked-for blessing; it would likely take them longer to reach wherever they were going like this, but it would be easier for her to deal with any resistance armed as she was with a sword.

 

Six silent minutes into the journey they came across a cavernous space. It was, blissfully, empty of any bodies: newts, overseers, or the incompleat. The room had many strange machines, some of which stirred dark and repressed memories, all of which appeared inactive. Another blessing; she didn’t know what any of them might do, but it could none of it be good.

 

“Get down!” she hissed, scanning for any movement she may have missed. “The way ahead may be empty,” she explained in a low voice, careful to avoid sharp sounds that could carry in the space, “but it might not be. I’ll go ahead, you follow. Be ready to run. Ready?”

 

There was no answer behind her, not even a reaffirming tap. She reached behind her, hoping to at least physically feel the scoundrel’s presence. “Are you ready or not?” When there was still no reply she looked backward. Dack was nodding a silent affirmation, crouched down low behind her—and seemingly possessing a hole in his chest through which her arm was passing. When she withdrew her arm and the illusion righted itself she made a quick slash upward with her sword, diffusing the apparition behind her in irritation. The thickbrained idiot! What kind of trouble had he fallen into now?

 

•

Even before the elemental ripped a hole in the building he was in and the bony she-demon had appeared Dack knew he was done with this hadean fever-dream of a plane. All he had wanted to do, since the beginning, was find some curio to take back with him and pawn it off to some rich connoisseur with money to spare. It was so hard to make a living as an honest treasure hunter, surrounded by all this conflict and battle!

 

The room he had stumbled into seemed to be all humming machinery and giant tubes. He wasn’t certain if there would be anything of value to find in here, but he had been surprised before. Besides, all he had to do was tell prospective buyers it was from a dying world. It wouldn’t be an untrue statement, after all.

 

A few worker types seemed to scuttle about the place, but they took no notice in him as he passed. That was just as well; it wouldn’t do to have to find more ways to escape, and he was running out of distractions. He crept his way along the unfinished metal floors, practiced eyes looking once for trouble, once for trinkets. Despair threatened to color his perception, but he reminded himself of the riches to be had, should he successfully find something…

 

As if his mind had formed it into being a forlorn glimmer from a moving piece of machinery caught his gaze. There, on the edge of a workbench of some sort! He sneaked around the back of one of the strange tubes, pausing to listen for movement and to quiet his breathing. It almost sounded like he was alone in the whole space; not even the tin-stepped skitters of the underlings reached his ears anymore. Not willing to trust his ears in case of a trap he cast a quiet little spell that showed him around the closest corners. Nothing; he was alone.

 

It was a strange little amulet, absolutely beautiful in design – morbid, incredibly so, but there was no denying the artistry that had gone into the crafting. Dack couldn’t tell whether the sinuous ornamentation was supposed to give a sense of pulsing veins or draconic scales, but either way he was sure that somewhere there would be an aficionado of just enough of a twisted temperament to pay handsomely for this bauble.

 

The only warning he had of being suddenly joined was a single heavy footstep behind him. He turned to deal with whatever abomination had snuck up on him and the thing before him struck with a lightning-quick reach. His body dissolved before he even had a chance to inhale for one last scream.

 

[E James Todd]

This is part two of the ending. Part three will not be done and ready in quite as quick a turnaround, but hopefully this gives you something more to chew on.

 

/\

< • >

\/

Liliana had to release the direct influence of what remained of her horde almost at the beginning of Norn’s flurry of attacks. Hells and damnation, this Phyrexian was pushing the limits of her abilities; even with the Chain Veil, her powers were only just able to counterstroke and provide a token response! Elesh Norn gave a haughty laugh, swatting aside the few spells that made it to her even as she dodged both the dark magic and Chandra’s fireballs. “I heard of the failing of Urabrask’s pet project,” she taunted as they danced in fluid motion. “And it made me wonder if your group with all its failings would manage to understand and submit to the rising tide of progress.”

 

The Phyrexian made a sign with her bony fingers, nullifying a gush of flame that had almost reached her. “Yet here you are, flailing uselessly and denying your own inadequacies” she scoffed, dashing over and swiping at Chandra with her arm. The pyromancer avoided the blow, but only just; Liliana was fairly certain a lock of auburn hair was severed and floated to the ruined ground. Chandra dropped to the dirt, forming a split-second fireball and slamming it into the praetor. She raced away prone on her back, skidding on the ground and leaving a trail of fire between her and the unexpected explosion.

 

Chandra’s fire consumed the spot where she had been just moments before. It annoyed her somewhat that she was so pessimistic, but Liliana knew the attack had had no effect. She prepared a devastating series of attacks for when Norn was through toying with their hope. As the fire retreated and began showing the top of an undamaged shield of white mana. Now with a target, Liliana struck.

 

The shield held firm, but she would not relent. She poured out a concentrated burst of dark magics, lashing out not at the entirety but just at that first point she had seen. A corner of her mind registered the hollow laugh of the praetor. Some insult or other was thrown out, but she let it fall from her mind, forcing her energy to bear on that one area.

 

Elesh Norn let out an exasperated sigh. “This has gone on long enough.” She dismissed the shield, looking behind her to the broken bodies of the troops behind her and ignoring the spells that missed her. With a swiping motion and the sound of hundreds of breaking bones she called osseous shards to float about her. “Abandon your flesh!” she cried, flinging her hand toward the planeswalkers and sending a swarm of bony projectiles at them.

 

Chandra summoned a wall of flame that consumed or diverted the deadly cloud. As the most immediate threat passed and the pyromancer willed the defense forward, Liliana felt the courtyard shudder. The metallic plates began falling away into a chasm, beneath which was a fog so thick that she could almost swear one could walk on it. The sinkhole flared, and for a moment Liliana thought that she could make out the leylines of the dying world.

 

“Even the world submits!” the Phyrexian observed. “It knows its place in the grand design is to provide those who shall bring it to perfection! See how readily the very ground reveals the influence of our glorious work! All worlds shall bow to the might of Phyrexia, all peoples to become worshippers of the Father of Machines!”

 

Liliana forced the insidious words out of her head. She had noticed what Elesh Norn now sought to cover with bravado and her own attacks: for a moment there, at the end, her shield had almost caved. “We need a plan,” she muttered to Chandra over the diatribe. “There are limits to her strength, but we need to either overwhelm her or surprise her.”

 

Chandra’s flagging breath was punctuated with a swallow. “Not much more I can do,” she admitted, gripping Nissa’s staff in her offhand.

 

Liliana nodded. “Surprise, then. I’ll stall, you handle the surprise. You’re good at thinking out of the box.” The necromancer straightened, spreading her arms wide. “What will you do to dissenters, then?” she called out, challenging their opponent and separating herself from Chandra. “There will always be those who seek to shun the yoke of another’s rule. I, for one, would never accept oversight over my actions.”

 

“It is because you do not yet see!” Elesh Norn cried. “Phyrexia is freedom – freedom from judgment, freedom from pain, freedom from mortality itself! The act of compleation purges the cluttered self from the stronghold of failing skin and mortal organs. No person, no thing need ever fear death again!”

 

Liliana scoffed. “If there was no more death, I’d be out of a job.”

 

“But would you deny it to be better?” The praetor rounded on her. “Would you not rather see Jace again?”

 

She should have had better control of herself. She knew, she knew it was all a ploy to unnerve her and slow her down, and her dark masters take her if they found out it had worked! She braced herself for an incoming attack, hoping Chandra would come up with that brilliant ploy soon.

 

“Lili?”

 

The battlefield slipped away. There was nothing else save herself and….Jace. He stood a ways off from her, eyes shining beneath his cowl. “Lili, it’s you! We have to go now, before they find us!”

 

She blinked struggling to hold onto her recollection of what she knew had happened just moments before. Had it happened? “I….” She raised a palm to her head. “But you died. I saw you die, I felt you die.”

 

Jace shook his head. “All part of the illusion. I wouldn’t die on you.” He extended his hand. “Come on. They’re not far behind now.”

 

Her memory drained from her like a sieve. “But what about Chandra?” she asked, feeling for the comfort of the Chain Veil about her waist. There was something incredibly unnerving about this, if only she could place what it was. If she was admitting her attachment to the young pyromancer, something was incredibly wrong. “She’ll need help.” Even her own words were confusing her now. Help with what? Was there some battle going on?

 

“Chandra can take care of herself,” Jace assured her, reaching for her now. “Take my hand. Let’s leave this behind.”

 

She wanted to; oh, she wanted to! As she was considering relenting on this baseless fear of hers her hand brushed against a piece of stone, tied up with the Veil. The power of death rushed through her fingers, the memory of a memory fighting to push its way to the surface. It wasn’t just that her memories felt supplanted, they felt as if they were under attack. Steeling her resolve and wrapping up the most powerful mental defense she could around a single strain of memories, Liliana shook her head. “Jace, I’m sorry for what Griselbrand did to you on Ravnica,” she lied.

 

“It’s fine,” Jace said soothingly. “I don’t hold it against you, but I hardly think this is the right place to talk about the past. Let’s go.”

 

That solidified it. Jace of all people knew that the demon Griselbrand had been killed far, far away from the city-plane of Ravnica. Hope crumbling in place of unrelenting will she flooded with power, magnified by the Chain Veil. Without a word she struck out at whatever thing was wearing Jace’s form, one hand casting spells and the other holding onto the stone that she remembered had now caused his death.

 

The imposter raised its left arm to shield against the point-blank attack and the world snapped back in focus. The praetor Elesh Norn stumbled back, cracks now running through her head carapace. As Liliana’s memories came flooding back the Phyrexian regarded the arm she had used to block the onslaught.

 

Before her eyes the bony covering dissolved away, residual dark magic working its way up to the praetor’s elbow and exposing the dark red flesh underneath. As Liliana shook off the last of the compulsion Norn flexed her fingers, a tiny quiver in the motion.

 

“You have imbalanced me,” the Phyrexian whispered.

 

Liliana couldn’t help herself. She chuckled, drawing herself up once more. “No offense,” she spat breathily, “but I think you were already imbalanced before we arrived.”

 

Elesh Norn turned to face her, a sneer on the Phyrexian’s features. Within the space it took to blink the praetor darted over to Liliana, grabbing the necromancer by the face and hurling her to the ground. The force was so great it sent Liliana’s diadem careening off her head, and as Norn pounded her skull into the metal plating beneath her she nearly blacked out. A lone thought picked out that the metal even bent under the bashing.

 

“I will liquefy your bones and use them to repair my body,” Norn informed her calmly as she continued the assault, focusing on Liliana even as the necromancer convulsed from each impact. “You shall not sully my compleation with your hands and live to speak of it. The lowliest newt shall know that you were unworthy of consecration. Die, and be reborn into my perfection.”

 

•

Elspeth had managed to work her way upward within the darkened corridors. She still wasn’t certain what this device would look like, but she imagined at some point it would look like any other portal: circular, and with a hole in reality. It was just strange that she hadn’t seen a single Phyrexian since leaving the courtyard – unrealistic, actually. It made her grip the hilt of her sword even tighter, glancing over her shoulder in fear of what horrors might be stalking her.

 

A heavy hatch closing off a hallway before her creaked open, just slowly enough that she could press herself into a more poorly-lit recess. Some kind of newt or other underling came tottering out at full pelt, gasping for breath as its lungs or lung-machines worked away. She feared it would pass her, but it scrambled down another flight of stairs she hadn’t yet reached and scurried out of sight. Knowing that it could be followed by more, she stayed firmly in place until there was no sign of more to follow.

 

There had been a glimmer of light beyond the threshold, so Elspeth figured it was likely as not there would be something of import beyond. Still staying low and stepping as lightly as she could, readying a spell to help her focus should she need it. In a single motion she swept the door open and rushed in.

 

A single armed guard stood by the doorway, looking elsewhere when she entered. She gave it no quarter, immediately delivering a powerful overhead swing to its neck tubing. Before it had a chance to recover she yanked her sword free, spraying glistening oil in the deadly arc her blade cut. As the Phyrexian clutched at its neck with spindly appendages she used her momentum to hamstring the opponent, sending it toppling to the ground in a whir of grinding mechanical parts and half-living gurgles.

 

The smaller newts did their best to halt her advance, but they were ill-equipped to stop her and she dispatched them with ease. Wiping Godsend on one of their putrid corpses she let the battle sense fall away, studying the room for the first time. The glimmer of light she had seen was from a small portal that appeared to be formed of quicksilver or a similar substance, contained by a shield and floating above a larger pool from which it occasionally drew. The image within the metallic ellipsoid flickered occasionally, but it seemed to consistently show an area of blackened earth that had the beginnings of life returning to it. She waited for the image to solidify once more, shielding her eyes against the glare from the windows before she spotted the telltale crimsonthorn sprouts. This was definitely Naya; but how would Phyrexia invade from this? Perhaps they could let one or two through at a time if they stabilized it, but that was it.

 

A roar from outside called her attention to the windows. Rushing over she peered out, and she wanted to sick up her stomach. From her vantage point she could see not just a force, but legions of Phyrexians all geared for war, massing on the plains near the Annex. A field marshal was making grand motions to them as an underling – probably the one that had rushed past her in the hall – reported on something, likely what they had heard from the other side of the portal. It raised its hand once and was answered with another roar from the assembled soldiers. And yet, terrifying though the sight was, it was not the worst of her fears.

 

As the front cohorts marched forward in perfect unison, their motion led her eyes to a great gateway. She gasped. To call it a portal would be undervaluing its massive structure. Other portals were doorways; this was a bridge. This was a veritable highway, to any world at any time they desired. If they had managed to make that functional, no plane would stand a chance.

 

The first battalion stopped short of the construct, while a single member detached from the group. Of all of the Phyrexians she had seen so far, this one appeared to be one of the few that still had skin on his body – either marking low standing or late conversion; she didn’t much care which it was, though. The individual approached the center of the great structure, now glowing blue-white and pulsing with energy, and regarded the sight above him with awe even as Elspeth fought revulsion. He raised a knife high in the air, shouted something unintelligible from the distance, and with rapidity brought it slicing down on his own exposed throat.

 

The gate flared with energy, expanding outward from the coils that originally held it. It dissolved the body beneath it before it even had a chance to reach the polished alloy steps, not even a drop of blood marring the construct’s alloy steps. Suddenly the portal stabilized, snapping into place and holding steady. Though her angle was poor Elspeth could only guess that the destination was the same Nayan jungle she had seen earlier. If Ajani was there alone with only three others, or even if he had his entire pride with him, there was no way they could halt or even divert an attack of this size.

 

Forcing herself to think through panic, she traced what leads she could make out from the gate. It appeared there were thick tubes leading from it back to the Annex, crawling up the side of the wall close to the very room in which she found herself. As a point of fact, even the smaller portal here seemed to have similar connection to the wall, leading upward to the space above. With grim determination she rushed from the room, seeking a higher point of ingress. Her flight took her to the same stairwell the newt had used to reach the outside, and thankfully there appeared to be one flight leading upward. On high alert and resting a hand on Godsend she sprinted up the stairs two at a time, hoping to find a way to end this torment and, gods willing, save her friends.