Jasna, Relentless Gruul Siegeseer

Jasna, she/her, part of the Ravnica Restoration Project: One Furious Demolition at a Time 🔥 Sphinx Siegeseer, Destroyer of the 21c Processing Center, Bane of the 7th Guildcourt, main blog: https://www.tumblr.com/wandering-mage

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

Hey, it shouldn't need to be said, but

NO TERFS ON GRUUL TURF!

[rasterix]

Welcome to Paradise Alpha Kappa the best frat house in all of strixheaven.

Here a PAK we believe in finishing our drinks before class, focusing on the natural order of the party and most importantly we live for wizzard Gizzard.

Uhh just starting a tumbler so this is neat, I'm probably gunna do mtg content and have fun with it

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

Party on!

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

Hey, it shouldn't need to be said, but

NO TERFS ON GRUUL TURF!

[dusk-legion-diplomacy]

Teachings of Home

The time it took to go from Akros to Setessa went by far quicker than Mavren had anticipated. There were only two other Champions that he had to meet with now. The next was the Champion of Karametra, their god of family and of community.

As they traveled, his mind felt a little less burdened by the nervous spiraling that usually consumed it. Having taken the time to mourn what was and could have been had... helped. He felt a bit more at ease. Now he had the wisdom of two gods to keep carrying forward, and he was ready for the third and fourth.

Of course, Menea and her wisdom as acting Champion of Pharika and Aoidi of Kruphix was also with him, but those were lessons and teachings he felt he was more continually trialed with, rather than schooled in brief.

Setessa lay before them by morning. Mavren wasn't holding his wings as close as before. "Where do we find her?" he asked Menea.

[dusk-legion-diplomacy]

[Continued from here]

"I do not require anything, thank you," Mavren said, holding up a hand. "I have a more specialized diet." It was a more polite explanation than the alternative in a land where vampirism didn't exist.

He found himself a seat, though realized that sitting with his wings was a bit awkward. He'd have to get a few things adjusted when he returned home. If there was a home to return to. He shook his head of the thought.

[noni-loves-you]

Noni, looks over at Mavren concerned. "Well that won't do, will it? What does your diet require, and we can see about fetching it. You are my guest, it is only right that I see your basic needs are accommodated." She gives him a warm smile. "It's no trouble, I assure you."

[average-ravnican]

The screech of rockets was still in the air, with the pop a moment after they stopped, but rather than being a constant screech and bangs, it was an occasional interruption

The group walked through a Selesnya garden, closed for the night, but not secured. Leta had led them through the open gateway, and passed a bottle back to the group as she sat down next to a fountain, trickling softly. The excited shouts of the night only heard echoing through the cobblestone streets. Leta sits on the generous space, looking up as another firework pops, lighting up the courtyard they were in

[lotleth-spore-farmer]

(Picking up from here)

Mazalna looks around the group, considering her options, until her eyes settle on the angel.

"Marianthe, was it? What'll it be?"

@firemane-angel

[firemane-angel]

Marianthe gives a slight nod.

"Yes, that is my moniker. I would like to pick.. Truth. For variety, as others have chosen dares."

[lotleth-spore-farmer]

"Alright. What would it take to convince you to return to Ravnica permanently? Not necessarily to the Boros, but to Ravnica."

Mazalna watches Marianthe closely, trying to gauge her reaction to the question.

[firemane-angel]

Marianthe thinks for a time, frowning slightly.

"I think if I was able to maintain the freedom I enjoy on Thunder Junction, I would consider it. A community would make it easier, as I do not wish to return to the Boros. Unfortunately, it seems unlikely I would find what I seek, due to the rules and regulations of the city."

She nods, seeming satisfied with her answer, before turning to survey the group. Shortly, her gaze settles on Leta.

"Leta. Truth, or Dare?"

@average-ravnican

[average-ravnican]

Leta will take another swig from her flask. "Truth"

[firemane-angel]

"What was the cause behind your earlier unhappiness? You were crestfallen when you saw us all in the bar.."

[average-ravnican]

Leta pauses “oh. Uh. I suppose I had an idea of what this was supposed to be, and I wasn’t expecting a large group.” Leta will turn to Atti, not leaving enough time for the answer to really be questioned

“Atti, truth or dare?”

@azorius-eloquence

[azorius-eloquence]

The girl looks up from her note taking. “Truth.

Dare is far too risky, thus its the incorrect choice.”

[average-ravnican]

Leta gives a small smirk “okay, fair enough. Who was the crush you have? Back when you made a post about how you’re not just an Azorius agent”

[azorius-eloquence]

“Two actually, that was a bit of a lie. But the major one is my guildmaster.

Hoping that with enough hard work she’ll notice me and give me a chance.”

[average-ravnican]

Leta raises her eyebrows “…. You know that’s probably not healthy, right…? Uh. Never mind. This isn’t therapy, your choice now. Who ya gonna pick?”

[azorius-eloquence]

“My shrink had notes too. Everyone always says “be yourself” and then I do something like myself and its “no not like that”, so thats why I’m taking ya’lls advice with a metric shit ton of salt.

@relentless-gruul-siegeseer Jasna, truth or dare.” She says, not looking up from her writing.

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

"Oh, definitely dare." Jasna smiles.

[azorius-eloquence]

“Get banned from a business within the next hour.” Atticus dares without missing a beat.

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

"Oh come on Atticus. One, that's easy. Two, you really want to instigate some crimes, huh? Three, do we really want to be making people have to like leave the garden? I'll do it, just seems rather inconvenient for everyone."

[average-ravnican]

The screech of rockets was still in the air, with the pop a moment after they stopped, but rather than being a constant screech and bangs, it was an occasional interruption

The group walked through a Selesnya garden, closed for the night, but not secured. Leta had led them through the open gateway, and passed a bottle back to the group as she sat down next to a fountain, trickling softly. The excited shouts of the night only heard echoing through the cobblestone streets. Leta sits on the generous space, looking up as another firework pops, lighting up the courtyard they were in

[lotleth-spore-farmer]

(Picking up from here)

Mazalna looks around the group, considering her options, until her eyes settle on the angel.

"Marianthe, was it? What'll it be?"

@firemane-angel

[firemane-angel]

Marianthe gives a slight nod.

"Yes, that is my moniker. I would like to pick.. Truth. For variety, as others have chosen dares."

[lotleth-spore-farmer]

"Alright. What would it take to convince you to return to Ravnica permanently? Not necessarily to the Boros, but to Ravnica."

Mazalna watches Marianthe closely, trying to gauge her reaction to the question.

[firemane-angel]

Marianthe thinks for a time, frowning slightly.

"I think if I was able to maintain the freedom I enjoy on Thunder Junction, I would consider it. A community would make it easier, as I do not wish to return to the Boros. Unfortunately, it seems unlikely I would find what I seek, due to the rules and regulations of the city."

She nods, seeming satisfied with her answer, before turning to survey the group. Shortly, her gaze settles on Leta.

"Leta. Truth, or Dare?"

@average-ravnican

[average-ravnican]

Leta will take another swig from her flask. "Truth"

[firemane-angel]

"What was the cause behind your earlier unhappiness? You were crestfallen when you saw us all in the bar.."

[average-ravnican]

Leta pauses “oh. Uh. I suppose I had an idea of what this was supposed to be, and I wasn’t expecting a large group.” Leta will turn to Atti, not leaving enough time for the answer to really be questioned

“Atti, truth or dare?”

@azorius-eloquence

[azorius-eloquence]

The girl looks up from her note taking. “Truth.

Dare is far too risky, thus its the incorrect choice.”

[average-ravnican]

Leta gives a small smirk “okay, fair enough. Who was the crush you have? Back when you made a post about how you’re not just an Azorius agent”

[azorius-eloquence]

“Two actually, that was a bit of a lie. But the major one is my guildmaster.

Hoping that with enough hard work she’ll notice me and give me a chance.”

[average-ravnican]

Leta raises her eyebrows “…. You know that’s probably not healthy, right…? Uh. Never mind. This isn’t therapy, your choice now. Who ya gonna pick?”

[azorius-eloquence]

“My shrink had notes too. Everyone always says “be yourself” and then I do something like myself and its “no not like that”, so thats why I’m taking ya’lls advice with a metric shit ton of salt.

@relentless-gruul-siegeseer Jasna, truth or dare.” She says, not looking up from her writing.

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

"Oh, definitely dare." Jasna smiles.

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Drink Deeply

Menea was not surprised that Aoidi was waiting outside of the cave instead of going in. She never entered unless Menea was there, after all. Aoidi, like the other Champions, was rightly uneasy about Hythonia. In the siren's arms were several large, folded pieces of fabric and some odds and ends to secure them once they were put on.

"What's that?" Aoidi asked, nodding towards the three bottles in Menea's arms.

"If Mother is correct, it's a way to keep our friend fed," Menea said, slithering past Aoidi and hearing her fall silently into step behind her and to the right. It was easier for Menea to make her way over and around the statues than it was for Aoidi, who had to dart around almost like she was going through a maze.

They made it to the fabric that sectioned off the cavern that was once Eriope's room. Menea gently pushed it aside and headed in first, her long tail behind her as she comfortably curled into the room. Aoidi remained outside at first, just in case this did not go well.

Mavren was stirring on the klinē. Menea took a moment to assess his wings, splayed out off of the piece of furniture and onto the floor. He hadn't torn into himself during his rest, so she wouldn't have to bind his hands to protect him from himself.

"Mavren," she said, keeping her voice soft. She held out one of the bottles to offer it to him. "I need you to try drinking this and tell me how you feel afterwards."

[dusk-legion-archive]

[Continued from here]

Twenty summers? Light of the divine, she was young.

"You are quite young," Mavren said with a nod. "I am, quite literally, over twenty times older than you. Even if they say no now, perhaps in the future there will come a day where you can explore without fear." He looked back to where Menea was working. "I shall ask, since I am the one who offered."

He then carefully wound his way through the garden, his footsteps strangely quiet as he walked. As he approached, he paused to make sure Menea was not preoccupied, waiting for a moment to speak.

"I have a question for you," he said. "Would you be opposed to Malkonia joining us for this expedition?"

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Menea paused in her writing. Mavren saw her thinking, though it was hard to tell what she was thinking about at first, and her expression did not give much away.

Finally, she spoke. "It is not up to me to decide. She would have to ask her mother. But if Hythonia approves, I will ensure that she is safe during our travels."

[dusk-legion-archive]

"Very well. I thought it would be prudent to ask since you were the one helping to prepare the voyage. Having a random stowaway often makes unnecessary complications. I will let her know." He gave a nod. Then he paused. "Would you mind if I asked about what you were writing?"

[menea-the-pharmakon]

"Instructions on making the faux blood, and a summary of the mythos of the plants involved," Menea answered as she began to write once more. "The stories are just as important as the plants themselves."

She raised her voice to speak to Malkonia. "Malkonia, go speak to your mother to determine if you may join us on the trip." Malkonia nodded eagerly and slithered away quite quickly. Menea watched her go, a small smile on her lips. "I do not believe Hythonia will have problems with her traveling, so long as she stays close. But that is for my sister to decide."

[dusk-legion-archive]

"I see." He wondered if it was something he would be taking back with him. He had doubts that the flora of Torrezon would be sufficient. They did not have the same sort of genesis as the plants here.

Mavren watched Malkonia go, another question coming to him. He felt it might be a little rude to ask, but he was curious. "Your sister does not seem to be the one to take a partner, yet she does not seem to be Nyxborn, like you. Would it be rude if I asked what happened to her other parent, if she has one?"

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Menea paused again, though this time it seemed like she was merely trying to figure out the best way to explain the answer to Mavren's question.

"Gorgons do not reproduce as most mortals do," she explained. "The first of us were made by Pharika in Her image, and then we create more by reproducing alone. All it takes for a gorgon to have a child is for them to will themself to have one. Of course, we need to have crossed our first century to be able to do that. Malkonia has eight decades to live before she could even reach that point, if it were something she were even interested in. It is merely one egg at a time, so no gorgon has a twin, even if they do have older or younger siblings. At closest, they are part of a 'batch', as creating the egg is a simpler and shorter affair than its external incubation."

[dusk-legion-archive]

"Fascinating..." Mavren hummed in thought. At first, the mention of an egg made sense -- they were mostly serpentine, after all -- but then he thought of their... other features. Not in any sort of lustful context, more for curiosity's sake. But he did not ask about it, because it is incredibly inappropriate to ask 'why do you have a chest', laws of hospitality or no.

"I will leave you to the rest of your work, then," he said. "These gardens are quite beautiful, I will say. You are quite the proficient cultivator." He then withdrew, his steps once again silent, save for the fact that he knocked his wings against a branch again.

[stromkirkkrothus]

The hippocamp, in a garden of roses

Its been an weeks since the dead of Braras. Since the humilliation of Krothuss.

No one mourned for the vampire. They could insult him, torture and abuse him as much they wanted. He was just one among thousand.

But to injure Krothuss, the god of their progenitor, was blasphemy that couldn`t be ignored. Runo was enraged. For years, they had a good partnership with the Coalition.

When the Legion of Dusk presented themself to their land, Runo was puzzled. An entire nations of vampires, but who pretend to be holy and noble. Back then, Runo wasn`t interested. He relegated to Braras the task of testing them. To see if they were civilized scholars like them, or hedonistic barbarians like the Falkenarth.

The result were dissapointing. Arturo, the captain of the expedition, was nothing but an brute who threatened them for weeks. They tolerated his insolence. He was of no interest for them.

But when he shoot that challenge, Braras responded. Since them, disaster fell to them.

The gate of Krothuss, was sealed. They lost their tool of power, the means of controlling the travelers of the other lands.

For this insult, the Stromkirk, will plan their vengeance.

........

But how? How could they harm them now? If they couldn`t reach their land.

The answer came to them. As a miracle, of the Brazen Coalition.

[brazencoalitiondesk]

The Jared`s Tempest sailed across the ocean, towards the Gate of Krothuss.

The outlook screamed "Gate at the view!!" as they reached the Omenpath.

Jared Pioggia watched at the door, which was plagued by the Legion`s ships. Although they claimed that no one owned the gate, look at their power—their cannons, the dark smoke, their platoons.

Jared pressed the ship rudder, caressing its wood. He needed to control his thought. They were Bluecoats, the navy of the Coalition. They are an example among the pirates, of discipline and calm.

Their mission is to search of the missing crews in Innistrad. Don`t engage in pretty squabbles.

"We are getting near the gate captain!!" Screamed Johan.

Jared breathed, then, pronouced the code.

Then, the seal opened.

It was time, to sail to the realm of monsters.

[stromkirkkrothus]

Good news arrived soon.

"The Bluecoats arrived!!! The Bluecoats arrived" Screamed with joy the stranded crews, across the roads of Nephalia`s towns.

That was their path, the road towards Ixalan.

As soon as the news reaches Runos ears, he makes a praying to Krothuss. He spoke to the Lord of the deeps, that he should forgive these transgressors. They would be the vehicle for their vengeance against the Legion. Krothuss` in his infinite wisdom, accepted his petition.

The seas were calm, no monster would attack the ships.

The Stromkirks needed to learn about the Legion, their forces, weaknesses, and beliefs. To find a way to make their nation fall into disarray. For that, they needed to know how to open the seal.

Two individuals vampires would be assigned to this mission: Scylla Stromkirk and Morgana Markov.

Scylla was a heiress of at least 300 years, a vampire who loved to mingle among the humans, under various illusions and disguises. She heard many rumours and truth among her lifelong friends, which served to the Dynasty in stomping any rebellion that may emerge in the Province.

Morgana was a duchess of more than 400 years, an disgraced noble ever since the turmoil. The lost of their manor and the wide massacre of her dynasty, obligated the Markov to disperse to the four winds. She shelter in Nephalia, under the condition that she would be demoted to servant of the Stromkirk. The change of abandoning the plane, of making an new life, was a very tempting promise. After all, she was one of the greatest mind-mages of her dynasty, capable of breaking the wills of the most devoted avancynian.

The pieces were set, now all that remained, was the second player.

[brazencoalitiondesk]

........

The sea is calm. No monsters, neither geist, krakens or drakkes harrased their ship. The waters were calm.

"You think, that with Krothuss injured, the Nephalians will sail in peace?" Johan, the first official. He was one of the first merchants to sail Innistrad's seas. He quicly became accustomed to the belief and traditions of the locals.

" I Heard news that the latest explorer of the Legion managued to injured him. To make him lost an arm, they say" Continúes Johan with his ridiculous parade.

" I am not with the humour for tales Johan. I see an port. Lookout Resie, do you identify the Port?" He screamed to the siren.

"Port at View: Dranau!!" Resie pointed at the port. The city of wood , hidden under the arc stones , was revealed among the mist.

Various ships of the Coalition can be seen among the ports.

"We found our mens. To Dranau!!" Screamed Johan, as the veil was guided by the mague's air.

Little did he know. That he would bring polizons into Ixalan.

[azorius-eloquence]

Trend ive noticed with red guilds.

*criticism of the orzhov*

Orzhov: haha yeah

*criticism of the selesnya*

Selesnya: sad but true

*criticism of the dimir*

Dimir: damn right

*criticism of the rakdos/gruul/boros*

“no no no you see where im come from we look for cats in the omenpaths”

You fly their flags. You wear their colors. But so many of you really like to not take responsibility for your guild’s actions.

[average-ravnican]

On one hand, you’re right, Boros, Gruul and Rakdos don’t tend to own their mistakes, or if they do, it’s “that was the guild previously, no one is still like that

On the other hand, as an Azorius, I’m not sure you have much room to talk, Atti. I get what you’re saying, but it’s not like the Azorius have had completely clean hands either.

I think everyone is gonna have to accept that every guild has its flaws and its mistakes, and trying to make them right is the best thing to do.

[azorius-eloquence]

Of course the Azorius’ hands aren’t clean. We’ve a long and terrible history of suppressing outside views and attempted guild-based genocide. Our processes are so difficult to understand that my job as designated-explainer has to even exist. And don’t get me started on the condition’s we allowed our prisoners to be in but 3 years ago.

“Every guild has its flaws” is pointless bothsidesism. “Not all guilds own up to their mistakes” isn’t.

My point with this post isn’t that certain guilds make more mistakes than others (thats a topic for another time), its that I find the listed guilds to be unwilling to accept their guild’s mistakes than others. I take full responsibility and apologize for what The Azorius have done in the past, and make every effort to make ourselves more reasonable and rational than the previous day. I’ve heard such sentiments from Selesnya, Orzhov, Dimir and even Izzet. But never from Boros, Rakdos or Gruul. They enjoy pretending that their guild has no flaws, and any evidence of such was fabricated or not *truly* associated with *their* particular subsect.

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

I've talked about the flaws in my guild and such. I've also been doing what I can to use collaboration to meet our goals. So don't go saying you've never heard it from any Gruul, because you have heard it from me. The Clans have a lot of anger that is often poorly directed. And Domri led the Clans to side with the dragon invader. Some want to bring on the apocalypse. I'm trying to do better today. I choose to step into your courts and resolve things. We may disagree on a lot, but I don't appreciate being dismissed out of hand, when if I were to do what some others in my guild do instead you would more harshly criticize me further. I don't think you would rather me not seek collaboration and have no care for who is hurt by my actions.

[dimir-archivist]

Training

Chima leaned back on the edge of the platform, rubbing their face with a cool cloth.

"If you require a break, I would be happy to oblige."

The Orochi Elder watched Chima as she gulped water from the canteen she had brought with them from Ravnica.

"I've got this. Just have to try it differently this time." Chima sighed, staring up a the tree that been causing her this grief. The task was simple enough. Just grab a candle from the top of the tree. Without any of the tools she would normally use for this. No rope, no hooks, nothing.

She leaped up towards the first branch once again, coiling her lower body around it as she reached for the tree's next limb. She continued this, jumping from branch to branch, till she was was about 20 metres from the goal. This was the final stretch.

Chima tensed her coils. She could do this. Nothing would stop her.

Thud.

"Are you alright, Chima?"

"I'm just dandy, thanks." Chima rubbed their hip as glared up at the candle, still undisturbed in its little basket.

"What lesson is this supposed to teach me, again? How to jump really high?"

The older serpent chuckled.

"No, no. How to deal with failure. That jump is impossible. Even if you could make the necessary height, a branch would conveniently fall and distract you right before you grabbed it. It's enchanted."

Chima whipped her head around.

"Excuse me? This entire time, I have trying to climb a tree that purposely prevents me from reaching the top, because you wanted to see how I "dealt with failure"?"

"Yes. You have. And I must say, you are persistent. But also stubborn and obsessive."

Chima took in a deep breath, trying her best not to strangle the old man.

"So I've been told."

"The Kami reward patience and respect, and I have a slight feeling you are lacking the latter"

"Rude."

"My point exactly. If you cannot sit through a single sermon without trying to steal the memories of the acolyte sitting next to you-."

"I thought they were a Imperial spy!"

"-then how can you have the patience to appreciate what you ahve around you?'

Chima sighed, leaning back on the fence around the platform.

"What's there to appreciate?"

"I know you aren't quite used to Kamigawa, but there must be beauty on Ravnica. What about are your forests, your oceans?"

"Concrete & pavement. My plane is nothing but city."

The Orochi started.

"...what?"

"We paved over our seas, cut down our forests for lumber. I had never even seen a wildflower before I came here."

"...training is over. Go back to your room."

"Whatever you say."

Chima slithered off the platform, an almost imperceptible smile on her face.

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Drink Deeply

Menea was not surprised that Aoidi was waiting outside of the cave instead of going in. She never entered unless Menea was there, after all. Aoidi, like the other Champions, was rightly uneasy about Hythonia. In the siren's arms were several large, folded pieces of fabric and some odds and ends to secure them once they were put on.

"What's that?" Aoidi asked, nodding towards the three bottles in Menea's arms.

"If Mother is correct, it's a way to keep our friend fed," Menea said, slithering past Aoidi and hearing her fall silently into step behind her and to the right. It was easier for Menea to make her way over and around the statues than it was for Aoidi, who had to dart around almost like she was going through a maze.

They made it to the fabric that sectioned off the cavern that was once Eriope's room. Menea gently pushed it aside and headed in first, her long tail behind her as she comfortably curled into the room. Aoidi remained outside at first, just in case this did not go well.

Mavren was stirring on the klinē. Menea took a moment to assess his wings, splayed out off of the piece of furniture and onto the floor. He hadn't torn into himself during his rest, so she wouldn't have to bind his hands to protect him from himself.

"Mavren," she said, keeping her voice soft. She held out one of the bottles to offer it to him. "I need you to try drinking this and tell me how you feel afterwards."

[dusk-legion-archive]

[Continued from here]

Mavren looked around the garden, deciding to investigate some of the fruit trees first. Some of them looked close enough to the fruits of his home, others reminding him of some things found in Ixalan's jungles. Figuring out what was and what not immediately poisonous was much trial and error, and many foolhardy souls had eaten shiny, ripe things that they really should not have.

He wandered about, occasionally making idle observations of the various beautiful flora, making sure to stay clear of any of the bees. They had beekeepers in Torrezon too, and he knew better than to get too close. Getting used to walking and balancing with his new wings was a new and strange challenge, and on occasion he found himself nearly tripping over a root that he just wasn't paying attention to and sometimes knocking a wing against a branch. He winced each time he did it, grumbling something about how ridiculous it was that the wings could feel and yet were unmoving.

[menea-the-pharmakon]

As Menea worked at her altar, Malkonia moved around the garden to tend to the bees. When Malkonia was done with the last one, she doffed her gloves and wiped the sweat from her brow. She then slithered over to some of the smaller plants to check on them, examining them for rot and pests. She occasionally glanced at Mavren, as if trying to make sense of him.

Finally, she asked a question when he paused near her. "So...you're from Torrezon? The place that the southern Omenpath leads to? What's it like?"

[dusk-legion-archive]

Mavren looked over at her with a raised brow briefly.

"It is different to here in many ways, and similar in others," he said. "It is a mostly temperate place, with most of the continent divided by a wide river and a mountain range that runs alongside. Off to the west is where the majority of our agriculture is held, and to the east is where some of the oldest cities still stand. We are a nation of faith, for the most part. Disagreements have arisen and now we are facing a conflict the likes of which has not been seen since the Apostacine Wars, almost five full centuries ago." He sighed.

"Had this been any other time, I would have easily bragged about its majesty and its marvels. But now? It sits upon the precipice of utter damnation. A fate that I fear I cannot help save it from." He gestured to his wings. "These are a constant reminder of that."

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Malkonia snickered softly despite knowing better. "You sound like Aunt Menea right now," she said. "Mother says that Aunt Menea gets worked up about Theros's safety on the whole every decade or so and that this has been going on for a few millennia now."

She paused her work upon seeing a bit of rot on one of the plants and glanced to make sure Menea wasn't paying attention. She leaned down and held her hands near the stem. Her hands glowed purple for a moment, and the light ran up and down the body of the plant, restoring the rotted parts of it. She then pressed a finger to her lips to indicate that Mavren should stay quiet about it.

[dusk-legion-archive]

Mavren paused. Blinked. Took a moment to process what he had just been told.

"I'm sorry, did you say few millennia?" he asked. He looked over in Menea's direction, suddenly feeling even more small and inferior. It felt as though every aspect of this plane was designed to strip him of his feelings of grandeur that he was accustomed to back home.

He watched as she worked her magic, not quite understanding the significance of what she was doing, but was willing to overlook it, for now. Unless it proved to be harmful, in which case he would bring it to Menea's attention.

[the-necroprancer]

On Necromancy (and the Cyclical Nature of Dreams)

"To me, Necromancy is..."

Octavia stares down at the parchment of her assignment, thoughts swirling. She sets down her quill, staring out the window of her dorm room, overlooking the Witherbloom campus and the Sedgemoor beyond. It is peaceful at this hour, the evening winding down, and most students resting in their rooms or the indoor common areas. The fireflies and other night insects have begun to emerge, and bats join them, swooping through clouds of mayflies to catch their prey. As always, the campus teems with life. Glancing at the empty bunk belonging to her roommate, Octavia pushes open the window, letting the moist night air and chirping of insects enter the room. Lark will not be back for some time yet this evening, she knows. They always hate when she does this, letting the insects and swamp air into their small space. Octavia struggles to understand how someone who seems so ill at ease with nature found themselves in Witherbloom, but always felt like it would be rude to ask. Octavia leans out the window, taking a deep breath, savoring the smells of dirt and moss that carry on the breeze.

Somewhere at the borders of this dream, memories push in. Flashes of Lark, all chitin and oil and rended flesh. Claws reaching for her, spider-webbed flesh still sloughing off from their sudden transformation. A pulse of magic fills the air and ground. Her former friend falters.

She closes her eyes, and upon opening them, finds herself in a familiar home. She hears the witch Auranita humming as she busies herself in the adjacent rooms, preparing a poultice for her wounds. Octavia leans heavily on the wall walking unsteadily down the hall, announced by the sounds of her hooves on the old wood. The old witch smiles warmly at her, gesturing to the table, where a meal is prepared. Later, there will be lessons and training. But for now, she must regain her strength. One cannot call forth the dead without the fortitude to control them. She sits, and Auranita lifts the makeshift patch across her eye, applying the salve she had prepared to the wounds. It will never be the same, but it will heal. As all will in time.

She had heard the angel before she saw it. Terrible and beautiful all at once, with an echoing voice and a silver glow, reflecting eeriely off the viscera in the room. Auranita was gone. Destroyed to where even the most talented stitchers would call it a lost cause. The angel turns, starting down the hall towards the terrified youth. It knows it's work must continue. There are still heretics in this place to be cleansed. Octavia turns, stumbling down the hall. She falls. The angel is above her.

The dream turns, ending where most her dreams do. Theros. The Skola Vale is never silent, but it is quiet here. The stream babbles, as Octavia sits with her finds for the day. Some new insectoid friends, half a loaf of bread liberated from an ongoing party, fresh plums from her favorite tree. It is peaceful. She wills the dream to stay in this moment, to let her enjoy it as she was never able to in reality. She knows when she hears the branch snap behind her she will have no such luck tonight.

The whistle of the arrow missing her, the yell of the fanatic as he charges, the whisper of a dagger leaving it's sheathe. All well known. All played out hundreds of nights before this. She always wakes up before she loses her eye in the dream. She knows tonight will be no different.

Graphics from @jasper-graphics

Music accompaniment is recommended listening from me, Inky, because I love the vibes of this song.

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Drink Deeply

Menea was not surprised that Aoidi was waiting outside of the cave instead of going in. She never entered unless Menea was there, after all. Aoidi, like the other Champions, was rightly uneasy about Hythonia. In the siren's arms were several large, folded pieces of fabric and some odds and ends to secure them once they were put on.

"What's that?" Aoidi asked, nodding towards the three bottles in Menea's arms.

"If Mother is correct, it's a way to keep our friend fed," Menea said, slithering past Aoidi and hearing her fall silently into step behind her and to the right. It was easier for Menea to make her way over and around the statues than it was for Aoidi, who had to dart around almost like she was going through a maze.

They made it to the fabric that sectioned off the cavern that was once Eriope's room. Menea gently pushed it aside and headed in first, her long tail behind her as she comfortably curled into the room. Aoidi remained outside at first, just in case this did not go well.

Mavren was stirring on the klinē. Menea took a moment to assess his wings, splayed out off of the piece of furniture and onto the floor. He hadn't torn into himself during his rest, so she wouldn't have to bind his hands to protect him from himself.

"Mavren," she said, keeping her voice soft. She held out one of the bottles to offer it to him. "I need you to try drinking this and tell me how you feel afterwards."

[dusk-legion-archive]

Mavren muttered something vaguely unintelligible before he opened his eyes and yawned.

"Hm?" he blinked, slowly pushing himself up, looking a little bedraggled and dazed. His brain felt as though it had been turned into sludge. He had briefly forgotten that he was no longer in Torrezon as well as the fact that he had wings. He blinked slowly, then looked at the bottle. He took it, looked it over, and smelled it. He recoiled slightly.

"Are you certain I should be drinking this?" he asked.

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Menea resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but did cross her arms over her chest. "You said poison is not a concern for you," she said flatly. "The first lesson of Pharika is that the only difference between medicine and poison is dosage. Drink. And mind the pomegranate seeds, those will need to be chewed."

[dusk-legion-archive]

"Normal poisons do not bring us much harm," Mavren said, still looking dubiously at the concoction, "but that does not mean I should not be weary of others." After another moment's hesitation, he braced himself and drank the strange fluid.

The first thing he noticed was how bitter it was. It was immediately apparent after the first drink. He had somewhat expected it to be so, most medicinal herbs were some degree of bitter. But this was bitter. Definitionally so. He detected the faintest notes of sweetness at the back, but it was smothered. The pomegranate seeds were a slight reprieve, but only just so.

After taking a moment to recover, still looking at the strange fluid, he frowned in puzzlement. He took another drink from the bottle just to be certain he wasn't fooling himself.

And he wasn't. Oddly enough... it was working. Not quite to the degree that actual blood would, but it was almost on-par with cosmium.

At least cosmium could be covered. This was just a bitter mess. But he kept those opinions mainly to himself.

"It... worked," he said slowly. "But... how? What did you use?"

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Internally, Menea sighed in relief. Outwardly, she merely smiled. "Of course it worked," she said, with more confidence than she had initially felt. "I told you, of course the Champion of Pharika can come up with an alternative to blood. Whether it tastes good or not is...an entirely different story. That is what the rest of one's diet is for, after all."

At the question of what she used, Menea ticked ingredients off on her fingers. "Three parts the juice of black mulberries, two parts honey wine, hyacinth, saffron crocus, pomegranate seeds... Plants known to us as having their origins in blood and death, with honey wine because I have too much honey laying around from my beekeeping. Frankly, I don't know why I didn't think of it further, considering I know the origins of many plants from first- or secondhand experience."

[dusk-legion-archive]

He frowned again at the mention of 'the rest of one's diet'. The rest of his diet mainly consisted of what blood and cosmium he had been allotted. He was not one to partake of the creature comforts some of the other nobility had.

"Your plants have origins in blood and death?" he asked slowly. He looked again at the concoction with a very strange look. "I... see. That would explain why none of our attempts with herbs have been successful. We have no such things on Torrezon. We know of carnivorous plants, but they have not been able to be used in a way such as this."

[menea-the-pharmakon]

"Not every plant," Menea patiently corrected. "But many times in the past, when someone beloved by one of the gods died in any form, their bodies were turned into the first of a particular kind of plant. Except for mulberries. That one is associated with blood because two people were incredibly stupid."

She did not miss the fact that Mavren had frowned. "Do you...not have any diet beyond blood? I know that Torrezon's vampires can eat other food, even if it is not nourishing. Have you been starving yourself in multiple ways?"

[dusk-legion-archive]

"Oh. I see. That is rather touching, actually." He blinked. "At least for those who were beloved by the gods. I hesitate to ask the story behind the association of mulberries."

Mavren gave Menea a quizzical look at her questions. "Why would I? I have no need for food, especially not now that Torrezon is suffering a famine. Blood is all that I need to sustain myself. I wish it were not so, but alas." He gave a small shrug. "I am not like the other nobility of my home. I have never found solace in it."

[menea-the-pharmakon]

Menea pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled deeply. "No wonder you're so scrawny, you're dehydrated," she grumbled. "I imagine you're also suffering from a headache, among other things. If you're only getting water from drinking blood, and you're starving yourself of blood..."

[plxtwt-posting]

HELLO CHALLENGERS

Our info desk has been flooded lately with requests for team merchandise, even before we've started running our team promotions!

So, if you have any merchandise ideas for your team, be that shirts, bags, plushies, toys, flags,... let us know! We will (with your permission of course) do our best to make those dreams a reality!

*(contestants will get 40% of profit for the merch for their team)

[average-ravnican]

You know, tragically, I don’t think anyone on our team is marketable as a plush. @relentless-gruul-siegeseer is a giant sphinx and @dusk-is-faster-than-you is… well, a lot like me, not exactly marketable.

@plxtwt-posting if I share some designs for a toy can you not put those up for sale until I use it in a fight? Have a couple ideas for gadgets that might be popular.

[plxtwt-posting]

That can definitely be arranged yeah!

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

What? You don't think I could be a good plushie, Leta? I think I would make an excellent plushie!

[average-ravnican]

Are sphinx common on most planes? I would imagine it might freak general members of the public out.

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

I think that would arguably make it even better.

[plxtwt-posting]

HELLO CHALLENGERS

Our info desk has been flooded lately with requests for team merchandise, even before we've started running our team promotions!

So, if you have any merchandise ideas for your team, be that shirts, bags, plushies, toys, flags,... let us know! We will (with your permission of course) do our best to make those dreams a reality!

*(contestants will get 40% of profit for the merch for their team)

[average-ravnican]

You know, tragically, I don’t think anyone on our team is marketable as a plush. @relentless-gruul-siegeseer is a giant sphinx and @dusk-is-faster-than-you is… well, a lot like me, not exactly marketable.

@plxtwt-posting if I share some designs for a toy can you not put those up for sale until I use it in a fight? Have a couple ideas for gadgets that might be popular.

[plxtwt-posting]

That can definitely be arranged yeah!

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

What? You don't think I could be a good plushie, Leta? I think I would make an excellent plushie!

[obscura-omenseeker]

You definitely could. I think kids would love your vibe.

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

Of course, because I'm awesome. I make a great role model.

[plxtwt-posting]

HELLO CHALLENGERS

Our info desk has been flooded lately with requests for team merchandise, even before we've started running our team promotions!

So, if you have any merchandise ideas for your team, be that shirts, bags, plushies, toys, flags,... let us know! We will (with your permission of course) do our best to make those dreams a reality!

*(contestants will get 40% of profit for the merch for their team)

[average-ravnican]

You know, tragically, I don’t think anyone on our team is marketable as a plush. @relentless-gruul-siegeseer is a giant sphinx and @dusk-is-faster-than-you is… well, a lot like me, not exactly marketable.

@plxtwt-posting if I share some designs for a toy can you not put those up for sale until I use it in a fight? Have a couple ideas for gadgets that might be popular.

[plxtwt-posting]

That can definitely be arranged yeah!

[relentless-gruul-siegeseer]

What? You don't think I could be a good plushie, Leta? I think I would make an excellent plushie!

[zynni-golgari-explorer]

I was talking to a zombie buddy of mine, and they told me that there was something very weird down in the depths of the Ravnican Undercity, down one of those new tunnels the Phyrexian tree unearthed. It was a sort of building, circular and made up of a lot of smaller rings and curved, floating beams.

I’m gonna go down there and check it out, but this is not the sorta expedition to take on alone. I’m going to be around Tawlo’s Coffeehouse for a few days, gathering supplies and such. If anyone wants to join me on this adventure, you all can find me there!