* * *
"Uuugggghhhh."
"Captain, I think it's coming to."
The young Civisward captain glanced over her shoulder at the immense frame lying chained in the center of the room. She nodded, grabbed the bucket of water at her feet, turned around and walked toward the ogre. Glancing around at her motley crew, she took a deep breath.
"Let's hope those chains hold."
Arros laughed. "Captain, those chains would hold an Indrik herd."
She looked at her second in command dead in the eyes, neither laughing nor even breaking a smile. "You saw what happened to Old Demethre, right?" Arros lost his smile. "Let's hope those chains hold."
With that, she dumped the contents of the bucket across the face of the massive ogre, which brought him, suddenly, the rest of the way back to consciousness. On impulse, the Rakdos surged against his bonds, but much to the Wojek volunteers' relief, the chains held. He continued to struggle for a full minute before he finally slumped down to the ground, growling slightly like a wolf under his breath. He looked around at his captors, then furrowed his distorted brow.
"Mospe-Tr-Gan of Many Hangovers is confused! He is chained, and his head is pounding, but this is not Rix Maadi, nor does it seem a Rakods festival has been in this place! And usually when Mospe-Tr-Gan of Painful Pleasures awakes, there is more than one female there, and they are not as dressed as…"
"Enough!" Shouted the Civisward captain, unwilling to listen to any more Rakdos ramblings. To emphasis her annoyance, she sent a small helix of lightning at her captive. Although he barely flinched at the attack, it was enough to silence him for the moment. "I am Allia, a captain of the Civisward and deputized official recognized by the League of Wojek and, by extention, the Boros Legion. You will answer my questions or face summary judgment for murder."
The drug Mospe-Tr-Gan had been shot with was beginning to wear off, and his head was beginning to clear, allowing him to remember who these people were and where he had met them. "Oh, that's right, Mospe-Tr-Gan remembers. The tavern."
"He admits it!" The short goblin Civisward shrieked. "He admits killin' Old Demethre!"
"Huh?" Mospe-Tr-Gan's usually verbose ways were, for the time being, overcome by simple confusion.
"We already know he was there, Keyt," said the Viashino. "That scent on him is undeniable. What we need to know is why."
"Verrik is right," agreed Allia as she refocused on Mospe-Tr-Gan. "Speak the truth, Demon-friend. Why did you kill Old Demethre?"
The ogre's brow would have furrowed deeper, but it was already furrowed as deeply as it would go. "Who is Old Demethre?"
"He's the man you murdered in that tavern," Arros answered through clenched teeth. He drew his rapier, allowed a small amount of fiery mana to seep into it, and then took one careful, precise swing at the captive. Mospe-Tr-Gan roared, the sting more painful than he would have expected. "Now answer the captain's question."
The ogre struggled harder, more out of frustration than anything else. "Mospe-Tr-Gan swears by Rakdos himself, Mospe-Tr-Gan has not killed anyone since last festival, over a month ago!" He thought for a moment before continuing. "Well, also a few Golgari plant-zombies just before Mospe-Tr-Gan met you, but they don't count! Zombies are already dead!"
The Civisward soldiers glanced around at one another, suddenly uncertain. Allia was the first to speak. "Do you think he's actually telling the truth?"
Arros shrugged. "He seems too dumb to lie."
"My nose doesn't lie, either," insisted Verrik. "I've been a tracker my whole life, and I've encountered just about every scent there is on Ravnica, and I have only ever smelt that scent twice. Ever. Once in that tavern, and now again on this ogre."
"You sure your lizard nose ain't lying to ya?" Keyt chimed in, almost giddy. "I didn't smell nothin' in the tavern."
The Viashino glared at his comrade. "The elf smelt it, too, remember? Maybe if you hadn't burnt out your nostrils snorting pixie powder as a youth, your nose would work as well as other goblins."
"Uh, that's why I joined up in the first place! You think I'd be here by choice, you overgrown boot! I serve my time, bang goes my crime, then I'm outta here!"
"Enough, both of you," interjected Allia. "This is getting us nowhere. Verrik, are you absolutely sure it's the same scent?"
The Viashino tracker nodded proudly. "No question, captain."
Allia sighed heavily. "Then we have no choice. Ogres are not known for deceit, and I believe this one. However, your nose has never steered us wrong before. I hate to admit it, but we need to bring the Wojek proper in on this. I say we leave him here, and go to the Wojek for help."
Arros shook his head. "With due respect, captain, they've basically already given their answer, and told us where we can stick their help."
Allia nodded. "Yes, but now we have a lead they can't deny, and we've lawfully detained a Rakdos guilder. They have to take notice of that, even if they don't listen to us. Besides, what else can we do?"
"We can kill it." Arros stated simply. "If Verrik says there's a connection between this ogre and the murder in the tavern, that would stand up in any tribunal, and odds are it won't even get that far. I say we kill this Mobster Gone and be done with it."
Allia closed her eyes, disliking the idea but unable to dismiss it. "So, our options are kill this creature, who is likely innocent, or detain it here for the Boros to deal with. What does everyone think?"
"Unfortunately, I am afraid I cannot abide either option." The Civisward members shuttered unconsciously at these words. They were spoken out of the mouth of the captive Mospe-Tr-Gan, but not in his voice. Instead of the low, rumbling, gruff voice of the ogre, this was lighter, sweeter, and somehow infinitely more terrifying.
"I smell it again," Verrik hissed, and for the first time in their association, Allia detected fear in the Viashino's voice. Together, the small band of Civisward watched as the creature known as Mospe-Tr-Gan casually stood up. His skin seemed strangely covered in something, an almost translucent fungus glowing in a very dull green. His eye, the one that was not already obstructed by his misshapen flesh, was, in contrast, glowing in a vibrant white. The chains which had held him physically and magically to the ground were draped loosely around his body, and he glanced, first at his right side and then at his left, before throwing his head back in a dramatic gesture. The dull green light that surrounded Mospe-Tr-Gan's body expanded to the chains, which shuttered for a moment before shattering into thousands of tiny fragments and falling uselessly to the ground.
"Attack!" Allie shouted, and immediately two crossbow bolts flew through the air, only to be deflected harmlessly off the glowing fungus now covering every inch of Mospe-Tr-Gan's gigantic form. The Viashino's lance sprang out as if from nowhere to pierce their foe, but the ogre grabbed the shaft almost disinterestedly and, with a mighty heave, used it to toss Verrik directly into Allia, sending them both sprawling to the floor and pinning the captain's sword, edge up, into her stomach. Mospe-Tr-Gan then tossed the lance like a javelin, impaling the further of the two Civisward crossbowman.
Keyt threw himself mindlessly at the Rakdos, leaping onto his chest and hacking away at his head with the goblin's short sword, but the weapon did not so much as dent the fungus armor encasing him. Instead, the fungus seemed to burn beneath the goblin's feet, and before he could jump free, Mospe-Tr-Gan's massive arm grabbed him, squeezed him to death, and flung his lifeless body toward Arros. The human Civisward deftly avoided his comrade's corpse, and was funneling all the mana he could muster into his rapier, which actually seemed to be doing some slight damage to the fungus. Verrik had regained his feet, and the remaining crossbowman had dropped his weapon in favor of another lance, and together these two joined Arros in his stand, but they were no match for their adversary. The human crossbowman fell first, his back broken by another of the giant's strikes. Verrik perished as his neck snapped against the far wall, thrown carelessly by the ogre. All that remained were Arros and Allia, the latter of which had struggled to her feet, but was bleeding profusely from the wound in her gut.
The creature that had been Mospe-Tr-Gan stepped back from the melee, the few cuts inflicted by Arros's enchanted sword already healing over. He smiled and spoke, his voice still sickeningly lyrical. "It always amuses us when an ant wishes to challenge a Wurm. Creatures ought to know their place. You are not part of the plan. This creature, graceless and hideous though it may be, is. We could not allow you to interrupt our plan by detaining this monstrosity. We have worked too long and too hard, and this beast has an appointment for which it cannot be late."
"Who are you?" Allia managed.
"Do not ask foolish questions, little ant. Who we are is of no importance to the dead. We leave to the Orzhov or the Golgari the affairs of the dead. We deal with the living. And soon, all of Ravnica will be ours. We shall return it to its rightful splendor."
"By the Paruns," she breathed. "The Selesnya Conclave?"
The fungus-covered lips of the large ogre lifted slightly into a smirk. "Clever little ant." He took a step forward.
"Run, Allia! I'll hold him off!" Arros shouted, pouring as much power into his blade as possible. Allia tried to resist the suggestion, but her body obeyed as she ran for the door. As she got there, though, she found it completely covered over in the same glowing fungus that covered Mospe-Tr-Gan. A moment later, she felt the sudden impact of Arros's dead body slamming into her back. As she struggled to stay conscious, she saw the ogre approach from behind her. She turned around to see him bearing down on her, a grin plastered on his face. Fighting for breath and desperate to stave off the darkness, she stared into the glowing eye of her death. Suddenly, for reasons unknown to her, she thought of Railu, his passion and his fury, and she wished him well in his vain struggle against the guilds. This, however, reminded her of the beacon bird she had given him. She wondered if the teleporting spell hers contained would work without him breaking his first. It was an impossible hope, but it was all she had. With one last glare at the approaching Mospe-Tr-Gan, Allia reached up and smashed her glass bird pendant, and immediately disappeared. The fungus creature stopped, cocked it head sideways, and cursed.
* * *
With his heart pounding, his sweat pouring, and his muscles aching, Mospe-Tr-Gan awoke with a splitting head ache. He looked around the room, unsure of where he was or what he was doing there. There was a great deal of blood, and several bodies strewn about, but Mospe-Tr-Gan could not seem to recognize any of them. A few were human, one a goblin, and another a viashino, but if the ogre had ever met them before, he did not remember. The last thing he could recall was his fight with the Golgari plant-zombies and their large leader. Thinking about that brought a smile to his grotesque face, just hungering for the rematch, though, now that he thought about it, he could not even remember how that fight had ended. Looking around, the ogre spotted a door.
"Mospe-Tr-Gan of the Faded Memories must have drunk much last night! Mospe-Tr-Gan of High Helmet and Wooden Sticks must have won Rakdos festival, but doesn't remember! What a life the great Mospe-Tr-Gan lives!"
Mospe-Tr-Gan kicked open the door and strolled into the streets of Ravnica, toward a specific destination he did not know.
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