The force of the blow was enough to rock the elemental back on its heels – and to send Gazwin flying across the crater. He landed hard in the dirt, the toes of digging lines through the dust as he continued to skid backwards on hands and knees. Both fighters roared and charged each other, the elemental’s primal bellow drowning out Gazwin’s hoarse scream. The elemental tried to smash him flat, and Gazwin raised his arm to block. Rock smashed into metal, shattering the Izzet emblem with explosive force. Flame and lightning arced out from the impact, and the elemental screamed as the timbers in its arm caught fire.

Not that helped Gazwin any. The timbers might have been on fire, but the creature was still mostly stone, nor did it really feel any pain. Whatever primal intelligence guided it quickly realized that it had gone from wielding a heavy club capable of squashing its attacker flat to wielding a heavy club capable of squashing its attacker or burning him to death instead. Embers danced through the air as it swung again and again, forcing Gazwin into a series of dizzying dodges. The elemental didn’t care. The puny human could run all he wanted because it was only a matter of time before he was pulverized.

And yet… Gazwin had never felt more alive than he did at that moment. The blows were so powerful, so close, that the wind caused by them parted his hair as he rolled under the fiery stone fist. He could feel the mana of the Rubblebelt pouring into him, and red sparks crackled along his skin. He tumbled backwards, coming out of the roll in a kneeling position as he clapped his hands together so that both index fingers were pointed at what he guessed past for the creature’s head. Power surged down his arms as white lightning erupted from his fingertips.

The accompanying thunderclap was deafening, and he could feel a slight trickle of blood oozing from his ruptured ear drums. It was a point blank shot, but even then the elemental almost dodged. Instead of taking the blast to the face it took it in the shoulder. The stone joints exploded into powder, and the burning arm fell to the ground with a bone shaking crash.

The two combatants stood there for a moment, just staring at the fallen limb as if neither could believe what had happened. The elemental grunted, then bent down and picked it up. It shoved it back into place with another grunt, twisting it back and forth before rotating it over its head to make sure it still had the full range of motion. Then it charged.

Gazwin just shook his head and ran towards it, ripping wires from his gauntlet and twisting them around his arm. He pulled the gauntlet free and whipped it at the monster’s chest, wedging it between two bits of shattered chimney. The air was thick with the smell of wood smoke and burnt ozone, but Gazwin swallowed the urge to gag as he was wrenched off his feet by his impromptu grappling hook. The elemental tried to shake him free like a dog worrying a bone, but Gazwin refused to let go. He could feel the wires stripping the skin from his arm, but that didn’t stop him from dragging himself forward until he was climbing on the beast itself.

He was soon straddling the back of its neck, punching its head with spell enhanced fists even as he was forced duck attempts to swat him into paste. Despite the magic hardening his skin his knuckles began to bleed as relentlessly pummeled the stone blocks. “Why…won’t…you…fall!” he gasped in between blows.

The elemental let out an anguished bellow and collapsed to its knees, throwing Gazwin from its shoulders. He rolled limply through the dust, ending up spread eagled on his back and panting for breath. The elemental tried to push itself back to its feet, and all Gazwin could do was stare at it and slur out, “Sit.”

The elemental froze as if thinking about it. Then it sat.

Gazwin decided to take that opportunity to pass out.

He woke up a few moments later, only to find himself staring into the face of the young woman who had been with the Gruul mage he had fought earlier. She was clearly trying to say something, but it was impossible for him to hear with his eardrums ruptured. She eventually gave up in frustration, and motioned to someone standing outside his line of sight. Gazwin flinched as a pair of warm hands clamped down on the side of his head and his ears popped as a flux of power stitched themselves back together.

“Owww,” he moaned as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

The girl motioned to the elemental. “I said you had a fine hunt, husband.”

Jaroslav looked around at all the guild groups that were locked in the courtyard with him. Orzhov, Golgari, Simic, and a crack team of Azorius hassars!? What are they doing here? I didn't see any paper that would allow for such a team to come to a sector. Especially with all those heavy weapon's those men are carrying. I should have seen some paper work at least three month's ago, if not three year's for all the weapon's they are sporting.

Suddenly, Jaroslav noticed Dienda walking towards him, her face serious. "Jaroslav we need to get out of here now, I am rallying up the Basilica guards to defend us but for right now we need to keep low. We don't have to forces needed to fight a major skirmish here. I need you to-" Dienda was cut off from a roar that came from the monster krasis that had just emerged from the ground. Jaroslav looked at the krasis and studied each part of it, it had a head of a wolf with crab pincers for hands, upper body of a bear, and a lower torso of a ant. On it's back were huge tentacles that moved around the krasis body. Another roar that was louder answered it.

Swiveling around Jaroslav saw a huge ogre with Rakdos tatoo's covering it's body. Looking closer Jaroslav noticed that the tatoo's were glowing slightly and that the ogre's fist were smoking. Everytime the ogre exhaled Jaroslav could see flames made out of pure mana appear. By Isperia, we have a monster here! What hellhole did Rakdos go to to find this creature?

The ogre smiled "Another creature that might be able to test Mospe-Tr-Gan!" The ogre said, obvious glee in it's voice. With that the the two monstrosities attacked each other. The impact from the two creatures sent everyone flying. Looking to where he was going to land, Jaroslav saw he was heading straight for a wall. Great this is gonna hurt. Jaroslav thought to himself before he hit it head on.

Mokosh picked herself up off the ground. That stupid ogre! Just what does it think it's doing attacking that giant monster! Looking around Mokosh saw everyone around her recovering from the shock wave from the two combatants who were now tearing eachother apart. Everyone, that is, except Jakob, who was already standing on his feet and watching the two fighters go at it.

Turning around Jakob started to walk over to her. Mokosh notice a small gash on the side of Jakob's head, that was bleeding slightly. Coming to a stop in fron to of her Mokosh saw that everything about Jakob was diffrent, he was harder and serious. Everything about him was reserved, where as before he was open and always trying to help out were he could. But the man in front of her was someone who was the complete opposite of the Jakob she was used to. Instead of loud, he was quite. Instead of soft, he was hard. His eye's had the biggest change. Before they shined with hope for the life in world, now they seemed haunted and dark, as if they had seen more horrors of the world then any being had the right of seeing.

Jakob looked down at Mokosh before helping her up. "Soldiers in front, mages behind, undead underground, waiting to spring up on anyone who get's close." Jakob yelled before turning to Mokosh "You lead." With that he turned and headed towards the two fighting, and started to walk towards them.

It took Mokosh several seconds for her mind to process what she just heard. "Who do you think you are giving me orders!" Mokosh yelled at him, her eye's blazing mana as she pulled out her swords. "I am the leader here and I will make the decisi-" Suddenly a slightly curved sword appeared under Mokosh's chin. Jakob looked at her, his eye's just as cold as before. "Another word that contradicts me" Jakob whispered "and you die." With that Jakob continued on his way to the raging battle between monsters.

Fireballs flew from the Azorious line, crashing into the Simic and Orzhov ranks. The krasis staggered through the crowds, too busy with the ogre clinging to its back to bother with the inconsequential damage from a few spears. The Simic were poorly prepared and underequipped, their small unit less a formation than a simple mass, held together by their leader's rapidly dwindling magic. Mokosh stood among the Golgari holding the gate as fireballs and directionless aether roiled overhead, ignoring the battle. She watched, will clamped down hard on the snarl that wanted so badly to form in her throat, as Jakob cut a direct path through the tightly packed Orzhov, cutting down those in his way and ignoring the rest. Whatever further secrets he might be hiding, he had to die.

As the scene descended into chaos the Azorious officers moved their men into formation and backed themselves into the corner with their shield wall facing any threat, what remained of their mages and archers firing only when the battle threatened to get overly close to their line. They settled into their defensive position, they'd weather the storm until an opportunity arose. "Mages! One bolt, krasis, left flank!" shouted Casamir, "Drive it into the Orzhov line! Archers! Center of the Simic lines! Target the mage!"

Mojmir stood just behind the shield wall, his posture strong, his face confident. It was a mask. The wall would break under pressure, the Golgari creature had halved the number or archers and mages at their disposal, there were too few men and they were exhausted. Until the line broke and he could personally engage the enemy, all he could do was look brave.

Nara was an effective mage, and her guards were competent. But she was not a practiced fighter, and they weren't soldiers. The Orzhovian pikemen stood in a perfect formation, their weapons moving with mechanical precision, each thrust killing or crippling some unfortunate guard. On the other side, the Golgari undead were being pushed back, but the undead were three layers deep and attrition favored them.

Still, Nara had the best understanding of the most important element on the grounds, the krasis. Whatever made that ogre strong enough to distract it wouldn't last forever, and she thought if she could just-

She heard some sort of thump and the ground shook. She realized she was on the ground. Before she understood why, darkness took her.

"Mospe-Tr-Gan of the... Grah!" he was cut off as the monster tore him off of its side and slammed him against the outer wall. He'd never had the good fortune to fight anything more than three times his own height and he was emensly enjoying it. The only downside was it wouldn't let him finish explaining who he was.

On the now-rickety tower of Ardir's lab, overlooking the terrible battle that was playing out below them, Graz watched, uncharacteristically silent, and with what must have been a bemused expression on his misshapen face. Things were going even better than Ardir had planned. The hatching of the Krasis had gone off without a flaw, and that hapless Azorius soldier had provided it the essential life energy it had need in those critical first few hours of its mature life. A quick calculation by the eloquent ogre told him that the amalgam monster was approximately seventeen percent larger than Ardir had expected, meaning fortune was definitely with them. Graz smiled, more or less.

After the krasis jarred the tower for the fifth time, Graz decided it was time to leave. He turned toward the Boros twins and cleared his throat. "Remember," he began, yelling to be heard over the din of combat below, "when this melee has ended, so too has your indenture to Ardir, but only if his enemies are sufficiently reduced in numeration. The krasis's repulsion field will prohibit their elusion for a time, but it is your objective to ensure the survivors are minimal…or nonexistent."

The Boros twins nodded sharply, but said nothing. Graz did not press the issue, and disappeared back into the tower. The Boros siblings looked at one another, scowled, and returned to their observation of the battle below. From the look of things, eliminating survivors was going to prove their easiest assignment to date.

Dove's heart sank as she watched Mospe-Tr-Gan crash to the ground. She had no particular care for the Rakdos Ogre, but they did have a sort of friendship that stretched back years. And besides, he was both the largest and the strongest of all of them in this damnable courtyard, and to see him almost carelessly tossed to the side by that…thing, was more than a little disheartening. Worse yet, she had been caught in a trap, and the bait that had led her there wasn't even present. The Golgari were there in force, thus far the most successful of the factions, but that large, zombified monstrosity that had destroyed her life years earlier was nowhere to be seen. All things considered, this was not her best day.

She stayed in the corner as much as possible, allowing her sharp Viashino eyes to scan the battlefield without actually having to venture into the battle itself. Things looked decidedly bleak. The biggest threat, without question, was that giant tentacled beast that had thrown Mospe-Tr-Gan. Despite the overarching obviousness of that fact, the forces of the guilds were spending as much time battling one another as they were trying to defeat their common enemy. Dove was an assassin, and a good one, at that, but she was not ignorant in the ways of all-out battle, and she certainly knew enough to know a mistake when she saw one. The mistake the guilds were making now was already proving deadly.

The Basilica guards were clashing headlong into the Golgari line, while the Simic fighters (the few who remained) were charging the shield wall of the Azorius in the corner, moving away from, and turning their backs to, the biggest threat. Ironically, only the Golgari showed any kind of order in the otherwise chaotic battlefield, but even that seemed begrudging, at best. Desperately, Dove scanned the area over and over again, growing frantic as she searched for someone who might take control of this chaos and get them, all of them, out of this mess.

For reasons Dove did not fully understand, her eyes always managed to fall on one man. He was standing almost calmly in the middle of the battle, surveying everything, just as she herself was. He was Azorius, judging from his attire and demeanor, but he was different from most of their kind she had dealt with in the past. The other Azorius, the older man hunkered behind his line in the corner, was much more what Dove thought of as typically Azorius, but it was the first one she kept noticing. In fact, he seemed to be the only one even trying to assemble some order, but even time he tried, his efforts were cut short by the black-haired woman next to him. She was constantly pulling him in one direction or another, or pointing him in another direction still. Dove couldn't tell much about her from this distance, but she saw enough to know that woman had no idea what she was doing.

And just that quickly, Dove made up her mind. She had trusted her intuition all her life, and it had rarely failed her, especially when her life was on the line. Gripping a long knife, blade downward, she sprinted into the fray, using all her skills of stealth to avoid stray swings from the weapons of those around her. In almost no time, the assassin closed the distance between herself and her target, approaching quickly from behind the woman and the Azorius man. When she was within six feet, Dove sprang into the air, putting all of her strength and momentum into her strike. She allowed herself a satisfying smile at the thud that sounded when she smashed her dagger's hilt directly into the black-haired woman's skull. As that woman slumped unconscious to the ground, Dove spun around to face the Azorius man.

His face registered only the barest degree of shock, but he held his weapon at ready as he shouted to be heard "Who are you, and why did you do that?"

Dove relaxed from her combat crouch, stood to full height, and sheathed her dagger in a show of non-aggression. "Whoever she was, she was about to kill us all."

Jaroslav eyed the viashino suspiciously. "What do you want?"

The assassin gestured all around them. "I want you to clean up this mess. You're Azorius, it should be simple for you. As for me, I'm going to take out their eyes," as she said this, she subtly jerked her head toward the top of the tower.

Jaroslav thought for a moment, then simply nodded. Dove nodded back, then disappeared into back into the fray. A mere moment later, Diende's imp Lob was by his side, scowling. "She's hurt the Mistress. I's goin' after her."

But Jaroslav held up his hand to stop the muscular imp. "No, Lob, we need to concentrate on getting out of here alive. Take Diende over to the wall, then fly up to that tower. Help the viashino, do not kill her."

"Who is you to give me orders?"

Jaroslav looked coldly at Lob. "If we don't get everyone on the same side, we die. All of us, you, me, and your Mistress, do you understand me?"

The Orzhov imp considered, but quickly relented. "We's talk about this later. For now, I's listen to you. But if the Mistress dies, you's will suffer."

"Fine," dismissed Jaroslav, "just hurry." As the imp flew away, struggling to fly while supporting Diende's weight, Jaroslav turned back to the battle, trying to decide what, if anything, he could do to stop the fighting long enough to get everyone to focus on the Krasis that was likely going to kill them all.

Gazwin was confused, and not just the way he was normally confused, but a new, exciting sort of confusion, the discovery of which also confused him. All things considered, it had been a thoroughly confusing week. He was just about to ask for an explanation from the young woman who had called him husband when something even more confusing happened: Flibt appeared. He quite literally appeared. One moment there was nothing but empty space, and the next, Flibt was standing there like nothing had happened. The few Gruul who were around him were too surprised by the sudden and unheralded appearance that they stood in shock. Gazwin merely assumed his mind had skipped a few minutes, hours or days (it did that sometimes when nothing interesting was happening) and so he merely spoke.

"Flibt, where by all the curses of the Firemind have you been? Do you have any idea what I've had to endure these last few days? I swear, sometimes I have to wonder…"

"Shut up, Gazwin," Flibt interrupted. The shock on the Izzet mage's face would have been comical if it weren't quite so sad. Flibt exhaled sharply. "I'm sorry, Gazwin, but we really don't have time to do this the right way. We have to hurry."

"Sure, Flibt, sure, but you seem a little different to me. For instance, I don't recall you looking quite so…female…the last time I saw you. And anyway, where have you been? What have you been doing?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've been trying to find a way to stop Ravnica from imploding. What have you been doing?"

"Oh, this and that. I blew up my lab, killed a Gruul mage, tamed that elemental over there, and apparently got married."

The young woman next to Gazwin smirked. "That's right, he's my husband now, by Gruul right. So if you want to take him from me, you'd better be ready for a fight."

"You wouldn't want that," Flibt assured her. "And anyway, I'm not interested in 'taking him' from you. However, I do need him to help me stop Ardir and the others from destroying this plane."

"Ardir?" Gazwin asked, growing serious. "He's the reason my lab got, well, exploded."

Flibt nodded. "I know. And believe me, a lot more is going to explode if we don't stop him. Gazwin, please, I know there are things I've kept from you over the years, but you have to trust me now. I can't tell you any more than I already have."

"Why not?"

Flibt actually looked wounded by the question. When she answered, her voice was soft, and lined with pain. "Because we all build prisons with our promises."

Gazwin was confused, but he was used to that by now. His apparent wife seemed less accustomed to the feeling. "Hold on, now. I don't know who you are, goblin, but this is my husband now, and he's not going anywhere without me."

Flibt threw her hands up in frustration. "Fine, then, you two go, just get going! There isn't any time."

"You're not coming with us?" Gazwin asked as Flibt shook her head. "Why not?"

"I told you, I have promises to keep."

Gazwin's bride was still not sold. "Give me one good reason for us to do what you say."

Flibt looked her up and down. "You're Gruul, right? Well, the fight of your life," she hesitated, then corrected herself. "The fight of a lot of people's lives, is waiting for you at Ardir's lab."

The woman seemed to consider for a moment, then smiled broadly and turned to Gazwin. "Let's do it, husband."

The Izzet mage nodded. "Very good! I know where the lab is, we can ride my elemental! Flibt, why don't you…" When Gazwin and his new wife looked at the place Flibt had been standing, that space was once again empty.

“So, husband, huh?” Gazwin yelled at the girl sitting next to him. He had to yell to be heard over the screaming coming from below the elemental’s feet as they marched towards the battle. Most of the folk who lived near the Rubble Belt were used to the occasional stray wandering out of the forest, and had quickly gotten out of the way of the lumbering titan. The only casualty had been a particularly vapid cow that was currently staining the bottom of the elemental’s left foot. The deeper they went into the city, however, the tighter the buildings were packed together, meaning it took longer for the crowds to get out of their way. Even worse, the crowds began running towards them the closer they got to the battle, as the civilians were more willing to try and dodge cart-sized feet than they were to face getting caught in the crossfire.

“How does that work, anyway?” he continued. “I mean, we just met.”

The girl shrugged. “I was married to Nilesh after I defeated Silui, and you defeated Nilesh. By right of custom and strength, that means we are now joined.” She patted the elemental with surprising gentleness. “And now you bring this one into our camp. It draws its strength from you now, and I can feel great power coming from it. I do not think I will contest the joining.”

Gazwin shook his head. “I don’t even know your name.”

“So?” The girl grinned as the elemental crushed a fruit cart, filling the air with the scent of pulped citrus. “Many warriors do not know a name when they go to claim a partner. But you can call me Sain.”

“Well, Sain, you may call me Gazwin.”

“I know. It is the name that creature used for you. Who – what – was it? If it was an old lover, I will gladly put her in her place.”

“No,” Gazwin said with a frown. “Flibt is my lab assistant. Or was, at any rate. I suspected he was plotting against me, so I blew up my lab and fled to the Rubble Belt. I didn’t expect him to be able to find me, but apparently I was wrong about that. Apparently he was keeping even more secrets than I could have imagined.”

Gazwin looked down at the twisted bit of metal that was all that remained of his mizzium gauntlet. The guild insignia that marked him as one of the Izzet had been shattered in his fight with the elemental, and whatever pieces had been left behind when it broke had long since fallen out, leaving behind a shiny patch of metal that seemed at odds with all the scratches and dents that covered the rest of its surface. On impulse he reached into the twisted form of the elemental, and his fingers closed around a large, jagged chunk of quartz. He didn’t hesitate, but instead pulled it free and began to hammer at that blank spot until it was as badly marked as the rest of his gauntlet.

“Dragon be damned,” he swore. “I have had enough of my life being dictated by the manipulations of others, letting them claim my glory as their own. From now on my path is my own.”

“Spoken like a true Gruul!” Sain laughed. Gazwin realized it was the first time he had seen her smile, and returned it with one of his own. Their eyes met, and Gazwin siddled a little closer, placing his hand over hers. He felt a small thrill at the touch, and leaned in close…

“Mmchmm.”

Gazwin and Sain snapped apart and turned to find Sain’s dark skinned companion kneeling behind them. He man was clearly trying to fight down a smile, and it was just as obviously a losing battle. He chose not to comment on the scene had interrupted, but instead announced, “I can hear the sounds of battle, sister. We should begin to prepare for the fight.”

Sain nodded and turned to Gazwin. “Do you have any idea who we will be fighting?”

Gazwin shook his head. “None at all, unfortunately. But the plan is simple. First, we kill Ardir, since whatever plan he is working on is apparently going to get us all killed. Then once he is crushed, we kill Flibt. And if anyone gets in the way, then we kill them to.”

“Simple, effective, and straight to the point,” Kazuq snarled as he lifted his skull shield into place. “I cannot think of a better plan.”

The clamor battle had grown louder as they had been talking, and Gazwin couldn’t resist looking down from his lofty perch to get a good view of the festivities. There were patches were the original battle lines still held, but now Golgari, Simic, Azorius, and Orzhov soldiers were freely mixed together. There was too much on the line, and the fighting was too ferocious for any individual to take their eyes off their opponent, so for a brief moment the elemental went completely unnoticed, despite being nearly eye level with the tower. Gazwin had the perfect idea on how to correct that unfortunate mistake.

Gazwin tapped the elemental on the shoulder and pointed to where some strange Simic abomination was in the midst of trying to throw off the most hideous ogre that could ever have possibly existed. “Rubblehulk, smash!”

The elemental let out a ground shaking roar that was part challenge, part rage, and part satisfaction. It crashed into the melee, crushing any poor sop caught in its path as it closed on its target. At that point, whatever spirit or force of nature responsible for animating the elemental had what could only be called an inspiring thought.

1) The Tower, being a large building, was a Rival.

2) The krasis, being a large monster, was a Rival.

3) Master had said SMASH.

The good news was that it seemed like the second problem could solve the first problem in service of the third. The krasis and the ogre were too preoccupied with one another to realize the danger they were in until they were wrapped in the elemental’s fist. They were crushed between wood and stone as they were lifted into the air, the air crushed from their lungs by the elemental’s implacable grip. Then, before either knew what was happening, there was acceleration and…release.

“I AM MOSPE-TR-GAN OF THE SUDDEN FLIGHT!”

The krasis struck first, smashing through stone and wood on one side before plunging out the other. The ogre was right behind it, though by sheer chance he managed to avoid getting pulverized by following the exact path the krasis had forged. He would, in fact, land right where had started – straddling the creatures back, clinging to its neck.

The tower didn’t wait to collapse. There were no warning groans or ominous leanings. It simply fell in a cloud of dust and stone and lumber that buried the battlefield under its weight.

Casamir watched with anger as the golgari human cut his way through the Orzhov forces like they weren't even there. What in the name of justice and order is he? In the warehouse, he couldn't do anything until he turned into that creature, now he is cutting through Orzhov men in full battle armour, like they are nothing more then sand in the wind! Were did this skill come from? He just cut down three Orzhov guardsmen with two swipes!

Suddenly a chant started to rise up from over where the Elemental was. Figures from the top of it's head started to jump down from it. Before landing, a spell hit that stopped them suddenly, beofore letting them land with a thud, as the dust settled, Casamir could make out gruul warriors, not enough for a clan, but at least large enough to be a hunting party. When did gruul hunting parties travel with giant elementals!

"Archers send out volleys to disorganize all enemy lines. Aim mostly for the Golgari lines. I want to see them scattered. Swords men rush down into the simic lines and push them into the gruul hunting party, we don't need them entering into this fight and start tearing into us." Suddenly a flash appeared by the gruul raiders. Lighting filled the air as a mage covered in ragged Izzet clothing fell to the ground landing with a crack as lightning flew out of his feet, softening his impact but leaving a small crater. Great now we have a Izzet mage, with the gruul, what's next? Are we gonna see Rakdos and Isperia out on a date? Casamir thought to himself sarcasticly.

The Izzet mage then put his hands togther and started to chant. Before he could get very far into his chant, the human Golgari burst out of the ground like one of the golgari plant zombies, and sliced at the Izzet mage. The mage yelped and jumped out of the way at the last second, right before the sword took off his head.

Instantly the gruul hunting party sprang into action, running at the golgari human. In response, the man charged them, silent as ever. When they met, Casamir saw that the lone human had the upper hand because of his surprising speed. But the longer the fight happened the faster he was pushed back. The Izzet mage got back on his feet and started to chant again. Electricity pouring out of his hands as his spell grew stronger and stronger.

Suddenly there were two crashes behind him. Turning around Casamir saw two humans, twins by the look of it, dressed in Boros specia ops uniforms, stand at either side of him. "Hello" they said in unison, they matched each other so well that Casamir almost thought that only one had spoken, it was only the movement of their lips that gave them away. "We are here to make sure that there are no survivers in the after math, since your forces seem to be hunkering down and pushing the others away, we have calculated that the best course of action would be to get ride of you now. Good-bye" with that they attacked. Casamir ducked pulling out his sword. Now we have the Boros, of course. His mind all ready preparing battle plans to use this to his advantage and get out of here with most of his men alive. I will not be defeated here by this useless rabble! I shal— The twins appeared infront of them, two swords in each of their hands, preparing for the kill. "Good-bye" they said once again, a shiver running down Casamir's spine as he saw that they both had a look of glee in their eyes. Plans later, survival first!

"I AM MOSPE-TR-GAN OF THE SUDDEN FLIGHT!" Dove looked up, trying to figure out where it had come from. Then it hit her. The wall just above her head shattered, and the absence was shortly filled with krasis, and then with Mospe-Tr-Gan. An enormous hand covered most of her face, and then she was moving.

Graz wobbled with the tower and took one last chance to survey the battle. The elemental might be a problem, it looked more than a match for the krasis and able to impose order on the chaotic battlefield. It looked to be somehow under the control of Gazwin, which meant both he and Ardir were in serious danger, but also that order was highly unlikely.

The tower decended rapidly twards unpleasantness. A fall like this wouldn't be fatal, the master had made him very hard to kill, but his arms and legs would be pulped. It would probably be best for all parties involved if everyone else thought he was dead.

"I am now Mospe-Tr-Gan of the many bruises," he said, rolling off the krasis, "Where is Dove of the scales?"

"I of the scales am-" she began sarcastically, "HOLY HELL IT'S STILL ALIVE!" she finished.

The Boros twins were good, but not better than Casamir's men. But skill and power weren't the issues; the problem was that the twins were flashy. They threw fire randomly in all directions, very little of which landed but it forced the men to scatter. Without the shield wall the Golgari had sensed opportunity and zombies were intermingled with the men. The zombies weren't much threat to the heavily armored infantry, but the archers and mages were being slaughtered. Mojmir hacked undead off his men left and right, fighting through them to reach his support units. He had no idea where Casamir had gone.

Gazwin felt the mana of the rubblebelt, and even so far away he struggled to control it. Lightning arced between his fingers and to the ground, building far beyond anything he'd ever felt, barely under his control. He was surrounded by chaos, everyone fighting everyone else, even the hunting party, his hunting party, was already being attacked by someone he didn't recognize. He seemed like a good place to start.

The krasis roared and Mospe-Tr-Gan was lifted into the air. The krasis slammed the ogre into the dirt, not missing the chance now that its prey was vulnerable. It raised Mospe-Tr-Gan to its mouth, but the ogre held its jaws, "Mospe-Tr-Gan will break many of the crab-wolf-bear-man's fangs upon his..."

As the ogre chatted on Dove took the opportunity to circle around the struggling monster and climb its legs. She clambered up the creature's back and hooked her claws into the space between its armored plates and began to pull. The krasis reared back and dropped Mospe-Tr-Gan, trying desperately to reach the pain in its back. Dove ducked the blind swipes of its claws and used her tail to slash at the flailing tentacles. She’d left the Gruul many years ago and developed the more “cultured” sensibilities of most of the city, and now the thought of what she was about to do curled her lip in disgust. “Aaaarg!”

She crawled under the monster’s armor and began to claw her way further inside. The krasis thrashed and clawed at the air in panic before collapsing onto its side. Mospe-Tr-Gan helped pull Dove out of gore-covered wound and semi-helpfully tried to shake her dry. “ENOUGH! Put me down!”

“Dove of the Great Victory!”

“Yeah,” she said, wiping away chunks of meat, “Wonderful.”

From behind a hastily constructed illusion, Casamir watched the proceedings with increasing frustration. That Simic monster that Ardir had left for them, which Casamir admitted to himself was a clever maneuver, had arrived first and foremost with a massive counterspell that knocked out his more carefully-laid illusions from earlier and caught the Azorius off-guard. If there was one thing Casamir hated more than anything, it was being caught off-guard. The other thing the krasis did was plunge everyone there into chaos, something else that Casamir detested. He was hardly unaccustomed to the chaos of battle, but even in the prime of his fighting career, he would always strive to overcome the chaos with ruthless and unshakable order. Sometimes it worked, many times it did not, but Casamir attributed much of his success to that desire.

However, there was another trick he had learned in his combative days, a trick which would have been inaccessible to those Azorius who never take to the field. That trick was that, often, chaos leads to order. Sometimes, even an Azorius official like Casamir could use chaos itself to establish order. But even so, he needed a few minutes to plan, and so, like any good commander, Casamir immediately took himself out of the fight as much as possible to survey the battlefield.

Chaos was an understatement. Casamir's own unit, what remained of it, was being flanked on two sides, one by the Boros working for Ardir, the other by a splinter force of Golgari. The rest of the Golgari were engaged with the remaining Orzhov guards, strangely allied with the few surviving Simic. It was on this front that that strange man who had helped defeat his plans twice over fought. Pressed into battle with that enigma of a man was Jaroslav, who was holding his own, though barely, and seemed more inclined to talk than fight. But Casamir's biggest surprise came when he looked for the krasis, only to find the beast, their primary enemy, already dead, apparently at the hands of a lone viashino and that idiot Mospe-Tr-Gan.

But suddenly Casamir realized that the real key to this entire battle, or at least his victory in it, was this surprising newcomer and his giant elemental. Casamir had three goals in mind for this battle: First, survive, usually the primary goal of any battle. Second, destroy as many of his various adversaries as possible. Third, keep that young whelp Jaroslav alive. The Gruul and their elemental could easily help with the first two. His own men were becoming increasingly inconsequential to his plans. Only he and Jaroslav mattered now, and Casamir desperately racked his brain trying to figure out how they could both survive. Finally, his eyes fell on his answer, the sour face of Mokosh, the Golgari woman he had already tried to kill once. This plan was a horrible risk, but he was out of options.

Holding on to his precarious illusion for as long as possible, Casamir carefully skirted around the battlefield toward the obviously furious woman. The invisibility spell he was using was sloppy, and not one of his best, and he suspected the Golgari mage sensed him anyway, so Casamir dropped it completely when she got within about fifteen feet. She glanced his way, but made no move to either stop him or attack him. When he was close enough that they could hear one another, she spoke.

"Come here to die, old man? That's one request of yours I'll be happy to oblige."

"On the contrary, I have come to you precisely because I want to live. You are the only one here who can help me with that."

"And I would do that because…?"

"Because for the first time in our admittedly short acquaintance, we have something to offer one another."

"What could you possibly, in the furthest reaches of the most insane imagination, offer to me that I can't just take?"

"Simple. Who is the leader of these Golgari?"

"Jarad. Everyone knows that."

"No, I don't mean your Lich Lord. I mean who leads this troop of Golgari here?"

"I do," Mokosh said, her eyes narrowing.

Meaningfully, Casamir shifted his gaze over to where Jakob fought. "Really? Because it certainly doesn't look like it."

"Why, you son of a…"

"I can give you back what's yours," interrupted Casamir. "If you help me, I can help you put a stop to that…whatever he is and put you firmly back in command of your unit, the way I saw you were during our fight in that warehouse."

"Be careful, Azorius. I am still in command of this unit."

"Are you? I'm no flatterer, but you are clearly an intelligent commander. If you were in charge, I would think your forces would be attacking that," he pointed to the elemental, "the largest threat on the battlefield. Your replacement seems more concerned about fighting with what few potential allies you might have than actually winning this battle."

Mokosh was clearly still skeptical, but Casamir knew the signs to look for that he was beginning to convince someone, and the Golgari mage was showing those signs. "If this is some trick of yours…"

"Look at me, my dear, look at my men. We are no more threat to you. I simply want to survive and get as many of my people out alive as possible. If we work together, just this one time, we might be able to accomplish that, for both of us. But you and I both know that we can't win this battle with that man controlling your forces. What do you say?"

"I still don't trust you, old man, but you may have a point. I'm not saying yes, but what's your plan?"

Casamir produced a small sapphire from seemingly nowhere. "Take this, and smash it against his skin. That's all you need to do, and then led your troops as you always do."

"What will this do? As much as I hate to admit it, I can't kill Jakob. I have people to answer to, if you catch my meaning."

"I'm Azorius, my dear. We invented having people to answer to. But you have nothing to worry about. This will not kill this Jakob of yours. It won't even hurt him. It will merely take him out of the battle long enough for you to regain control. It's just that simple."

"If it's so simple, why don't you do it yourself?"

"You know I could never get anywhere near him, and even if I did, he would cut me to pieces. You're Golgari. He'll let you get close."

"And then what?"

"Then your forces and mine can focus on our real enemy."

Mokosh looked over at Jakob before she reluctantly nodded. "Very well. But know this, old man. If you so much as attempt to betray this arrangement, I will see to it that your corpse suffers for centuries."

"Understood," Casamir confirmed with a nod.

Mokosh sneered at him for a moment, then grabbed the sapphire, gathered her mana, and moved into the fray, inching her way toward her rival. Only Casamir's years of discipline and self-control kept him from revealing a smile. He backed up to a nearby wall and started moving back toward his own men, but never taking an eye off of Mokosh and her progress. It seemed painfully slow, and he was in position long before she was. Jarolsav was losing ground quickly to Jakob, and more than once Casamir feared the younger Azorius would fall, but eventually Mokosh arrived. It was difficult to see through the chaos of the battle, but for a few second the two Golgari seemed to exchange a heated conversation, and as Jakob turned back to his battle, Mokosh slammed the sapphire down hard on his shoulder. The effect was instantaneous. A huge, misshapen crystal of ice formed around the troublesome Jakob, easily three foot thick at any given point. Nothing was getting through that magical ice, not in, or out.

Casamir allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that he had just taken a huge step towards victory. As he looked around the chaos of the battlefield, though, he knew he had several left to take.

Why in all of Rakdos’s pits did I jump down in the first place? Gazwin wondered as he blasted the Golgari warrior with a face full of lightning from point blank range. The man howled and stepped backwards, clutching at his face as he tried to put out the flames. Much to Gazwin’s amazement, the man seemed more angry than hurt, and was already insisting that Gazwin would pay for his injuries by committing a series of unlikely acts involving a team of lizards and their handlers. Still, just because the warrior’s plans didn’t seem physically possible didn’t mean Gazwin had any interest in seeing them carried out. He pointed to the Golgari and ordered, “PULL!”

Jakob’s threats were cut off as the elemental bent low, swept him up, and threw him through the air in one motion. Gazwin’s arm shot out towards the warrior, and for a brief moment they were connected by a jagged column of lightning that blinded those fighting nearby. Jakob screamed as the blast caught him full in the chest, sending him tumbling end over end past the ruins of the shattered tower. He had just enough time to scream before landing in the smashed corpse of the krasis, showering Mospe-Tr-Gan and dove with a fresh shower of gore.

“Right,” Gazwin said as he tugged his jacket back into place. He glanced about the battle, trying to take stock of who was what was where. Sain was a bare arms-length away, using her spear as an impromptu staff. More than a few men and women lay at her feet already, though they had merely been knocked unconscious rather than killed by the Gruul warrior. Not, as many would latter assume, out of any sense of mercy, but more because she simply didn’t know who she was supposed to be killing yet. Kazuq, meanwhile, had simply side stepped that particular moral quandary by heading straight for the zombies. The skull on his arm began to glow with a deep blue aura as his body began to swell, until he stood a full ten feet tall and nearly as broad. The struggling Azorius soldiers fell back at the approach of the unexpected reinforcement, which turned out to be a smart move on their part. Kazuq wasn’t interested in helping them; he just saw the zombies as the one target no one would miss. He reached into their front rank and seized one by the legs, bellowing with laughter as he began to sweep it back and forth across its fellows. Zombies began to fly everywhere as he knocked them down like wheat in a hurricane.

Still, they were only two against many, and Gazwin was still no closer to the answers he was looking for. Flibt was nowhere to be seen, but that was no surprise. If s/he was capable of taking different forms, then it was possible that s/he was there in someone else’s guise. But, and it seemed more likely, the shapeshifter might also have been lurking wherever Graz and Ardir were hiding as neither of them appeared to be in the area either. Which in turn all this fighting was nothing more than a distraction, and Gazwin hated distractions.

He motioned for the elemental to pick him and Sain up. Sain looked at him in confusion, but he didn’t have any time to answer his wife’s questions. Instead he simply ordered her to cover her ears as he pulled a silver medallion out from underneath his robes.

Sitting in the center of the medallion was the draconian symbol of the Izzet. Above the jewel were the words, “Project Rainbow.” Beneath it was inscribed, “SR 71.” The initials stood for Special Research, top secret projects that few, if any, wherever given full access to. Those who did were carefully monitored, to ensure the safety of those projects. This one in particular had been carried out deep in the wilds of Utvara, far from the city proper. It had been the brain child of Sylene, a woman he had grown up with and become friends with, and one that Niv-Mizzet had personally kept an eye on.

If he activated it, then they would know right away where he was, as well as the fact that he had at least partially defected to the Gruul. Gazwin wasn’t worried about the Dracogenius; in fact, he expected the entire affair would highly amuse his ex-leader. The simple, shallow minded men and women who handled the day to day affairs of the guild were another matter, however. They would demand that he turn himself in as a traitor, and would most likely send their own enforcers after him when he refused to bow to their wishes.

But if it was that or let all of Ravnica suffer… Besides, he was Gruul now. What were a few more petty tinkerers to one who commanded flame and lightning?

He squeezed the medallion and invoked it with a single word. “Fly.”

Then he clapped his hands over his ears and waited.

Several seconds passed, and nothing happened. Somewhere in the distance was a distant strike of thunder, but it was easily lost amidst the clamor of the fighting. It grew louder, and people several blocks away began to close their windows and shutters in preparation for the storm, even though the sky overhead remained clear. Gazwin simply clutched the elemental tighter with his knees. A brilliant red streak shot past, too quickly for any of the fighters to notice it had appeared overhead. Less than a second after it passed behind the surrounding buildings, the sky exploded.

Ardir had picked a rather rundown neighborhood to build his lab. It only made sense, after all. If one was going to be conducting highly unethical and illegal experiments, then it was typically a good idea to conduct them around the sorts of people who had their own reasons for not wanting to attract the attention of the law and its various servants. At the same time, however, those who didn’t wish to attract the attention of the law weren’t known for their interest in phrases such as “yearly maintenance” or “structural integrity.” Who cared if your apartment walls were sagging and the molding had worn away if you probably weren’t going to be living there the next day? Only Ardir had paid any attention to his property, and even then had only performed those repairs he absolutely had to.

The nearby buildings began to burst like rotten fruit as an echoing roar filled the air in the wake of the red blur. Both sides were slapped down by an immense wind as windows shattered and walls collapsed. Loose masonry poured into the middle of the yard, smothering those who were two slow or wounded to get out of the way. The remaining Golgari zombies, those that hadn’t been completely wrecked by Kazuq’s frenzy, were buried under the rubble when a foundation next to the fighting collapsed inwards and sucked them down into the hole. Kazuq nearly followed them, jumping out of the way at the last minute and entirely heedless of the Azorius soldiers he landed on.

Sain stared in shock at the sudden chaos the battle had suddenly been turned into, and turned to ask Gazwin a question. She had barely opened her mouth when he began to violently shake his head, and she realized he was still covering his ears and decided to do as he did.

The fighters on the ground were just starting to pick themselves up from the ground when the blur came back. By that point the worst of the damage had been done, but more than a few buildings had been weakened by the first pass. Several smaller avalanches imitated the initial burst of destruction, filling the yard with a choking cloud of dust and smoke. Men and women who had thought themselves safe were struck down once again and this time they decided to take the hint and stayed down.

The blur came back for a third time, but this time it came in at a much more leisurely pace. Crimson wings beat the air as the dragon circled the yard, looking for a suitable place to land. It knew its summoner was down there somewhere by the elemental, but since the living mass of building and bush made no move to attack the dragon decided it must not have been an enemy. It landed right next to the elemental instead, and as it sat down on its hind legs it stood three quarter’s the elemental’s height. Its forelegs were encased in mizzium gauntlets, each as long as a man was tall, and a mizzium breastplate had been set in place to protect its chest. All three pieces of armor crackled with unspent energies as scarlet sparks danced back and forth between them. Steam poured upwards from the dragon’s scales, but it didn’t even seem to be breathing heavy.

“Right!” Gazwin yelled down from his perch as the smoke began to clear. Even though he had known it was coming and had covered his ears, they were still ringing as if he had front row seats for concert of Orzhovian bells. “I’ve got the elemental, I’ve got the dragon, and I’ve got enough fire and lightning to roast everything within five blocks of us here. Keeping that in mind, my demands are simple. I want the mage, his pet ogre, and my goblin so that I can kill them all and we can all go home. So where are they?”

He was answered by a chorus of groans and shouted cries of despair. The few people moving around on the ground below were stumbling about drunkenly, careless of the others they had been trying to stab to death just a few moments ago. Kazuq was amongst them, propped up only by his massive skull-shield, as his enlargement spell had worn off sometime after the first pass.

Sain tapped Gazwin on the shoulder. “I don’t think they can hear you! I can barely hear you!”

“Well, bugger.”

Jaroslav started to pick himself up, his body screaming in pain. Ugh, that swordsman knew how to fight. As he got onto his knees, Jaroslav looked around, jumping back, when he noticed a huge slab of crystal not two feet from where he landed. What in the name of Isperia is that? Stepping towards it tentativly, Jaroslav saw a figure inside of it. Looking closer, he saw the swordsmean from before.

As he inspected the crystal more, he saw thousands of tiny Azorius words moving around the crystal. From what he could tell, this were a powerful detainment spell, ment to use the detainee's own mana against them, thus making them fight themselves for freedom. Indeed this level of sophistication was rarely seen on battle field, for the process of making it was time consuming. One slip up on any part, and you would likely double the detainees mana supply.

Jaroslav,noticing movement inside the crystal looked closer and watched as these tentacle like things spread across the swordsmans body, covering him up in it. A good portion of his body was already covered in the tentacle like things and they didn't seem to be near the point of stopping.

Suddenly he felt a pulse of mana rush out from the crystal and quickly spread over the the battlefield. What the...

That shouldn't be possible, this containment spell is perfect, he shouldn't be able to move, let alone send out mana.

Hearing noises behind him, Jaroslav turned to see a Orzhov guard getting back on his feet, except, something about him was wrong. As Jaroslav watched, the guard was walking jerkily. Every step was like he was about to fall over. Suddenly, Jarad noticed the small line that ran across the guards breast plate. Jaroslav watched as the guardsman breatst plate started to turn green, first starting at the huge cut, then slowly spreading out from there.

Zombie. Jaroslav thought to himself. Looking around, Jaroslav spotted several more guardsmen acting like the zombie before him. Before he could do anything, he heard a huge roar coming from where that Viashino assasin was. Turning around, Jaroslav spotted the huge Krasis beast, that had been silent for awhile. Except something was diffrent, it seemed to have changed colors. Where as before it was mostly blue with a couple of green spots here and there, now it was nothing but green. Suddenly it jumped down and landed with a huge splat, that sent blood all around it. Jaroslav watched as the monster hobbled at the elemental, noticing how there seemed to be something coming out of its back. Squinting his eyes for a better look, Jaroslav could only make out a humanoid figure on top of its back. As he watched the krasis make its way slowly towards the elemental and dragon, soldiesr from all guilds either ran from it or attacked it. Those that attacked it were soon run over, as the krasis made its way, slowly, across the plaza.

Hearing a roar of frustration, Jaroslav turned to look at where the Krasis had just emerged. Jaroslav spotted the ogre that had been on the krasis before, roaring something "Come back Creature of the re-acuring deaths!" The ogre yelled over the courtyard.

Re-acuring deaths? Jaroslav thought to himself. Suddenly the Krasis jumped up and was able to land on the elementals knee. Once there, these things burst out of its body and peirced the elementals knee. Suddenly the elemental was screaming in pain as the things that had appeared out of the krasis started to go up and down the elemental, with in moments, there was peices of what looked to be... roots, going up and down the elementals body. Suddenly fire started to appear on the top of the elementals head, hitting the roots, sending them back away. Squinting, Jaroslav saw two figures ontop of the elemental, one was using magic to summon the fire, the other was up behind the mage, attacking the roots up close.

With a great crashing sound, the elemental fell to one knee, sending dust through out the court yard, bellowing in rage and in pain as it fell. As the dust settled Jaroslav watched as the elementals body got covered with even more of the roots. Suddenly the roots started to dig into the elemental. The dragon, at this time, started to flap it's wings in confusion, wondering what was happeningn to its new master. Before it could do anything to help it's master, a huge detainment spell went over it. The very air turned into a cage as the dragon was sealed away form the rest of the world. Not even the dragons roars could penetrate the walls. Hearing a noise behind him, Jaroslav twirled around, bringing his sword to bear in one smooth motion.

Jaroslav watched as several guards men, half stumbled, half ran towards the elemental. As he watched, he saw several more Orzhov Guardsmen running towards the elemental, a sizeable force in fact. Where do they think they— Noticing the green that was spreading across their bodies, Jaroslav realized with horror that those were all zombies.

As soon as the zombified guardsmen got close enough to the krakis, they jumped on to its body, adding more and more roots and speeding up the take over processes. As this was happening, the mage who was infront was starting to fire at the zombified guardsmen with spells of fire.

Jaroslav watched this all happening, shocked by the sudden change of events. Turning around, Jaroslav started to make his way back to where Dienda was, hoping to be able to get her out of here in one peice. As he walked past the crystal he notcied cracks appearing all across its surface. At this Jaroslav stopped and watch it start to mist up on the inside. Getting closer to try and figure out what was happening inside of it, Jaroslav heard something, a voice, start to whisper something in the wind.

Suddenly the crystal broke, two claw like hands came out and grabbed his face. Jaroslav could feel the claws digging into his face. Screaming in pain Jaroslav watched in horror, as a face of pure terror rise out of the crystal. Looking at Jaroslav, it opened it's mouth and started to pull Jaroslav to its open mouth. The closer Jaroslav got to the beast, the louder the voice got in the wind, realizing that the voice was coming from the beast, Jaroslav tried to pull away. Ever so slowly, the beast's head filled Jaroslavs vision. Trying desperatly to pull off, Jaroslav heard footsteps behind him. A female voice spoke up. "Now I got you Jakob." Suddenly a blast of pure black mana hit the creature, knocking it to the side.

At this Jaroslav started to back away as fast as he could. Watching as a golgari elf advance on the monstrosity.

Fiblt had been working for Gazwin because the Izzet were interesting and she’d planned to spend a century or two seeing what they got themselves into. Now she had manipulated Gazwin, a relative innocent, into a vendetta against Ardir. Gazwin was a one-in-a-thousand mage, but Ardir was becoming something mere power could do nothing to stop. His machine was turning him into a force of nature, as unstoppable and implacable as time itself.

It had begun when Ardir had built his damned scrying machine. She’d warned him again and again that he didn’t know the kind of forces he was tapping into, but he was blind to everything but his revenge. He’d discovered certain things were heavy with what he called Fate, including most of the leaders at the currently raging battle at his lab, and her bow. It was just a trinket to her, so badly made she didn’t think it would be worth stealing. But he’d taken it, and obsessed over it. By the time she understood what he’d become it was too late. He’d put up wards around himself and his machine to keep her away, and begun using the device more and more. The more he stared into it, the more he began to be able to shape events around him to his liking. It was far from omniscience, but his plans came together with impossible ease, his lies went unquestioned.

She’d become desperate. She’d been to Tolaria and witnessed the absolute devastation that had ruined all it touched across time and across worlds. She knew what that power felt like, and Ardir was wrapped in it. Now she was on her way to do something she wouldn’t be proud of later, but the power had begun to spread to others. Most were seeing things they couldn’t understand, short visions they could pass off as strange daydreams. But some were driven mad by waking nightmares they could not escape, and a few were learning to bend their knowledge towards their personal gain. She suspected Casamir was one of these. He had been a disillusioned, mildly megalomaniacal Justicar who couldn’t let go of his time as a commander. In that way he was so ordinary he could have been made in a press, but something had directed him towards Ardir with dreams of shaping Ravnica to his ideal.

The more Ardir used the device, the more its power spilled out into the streets, and the more people like Casamir would come for it, using its power while ignorant of the danger not just to Ravnica, but to all worlds throughout time. She did not fear death, and if Gazwin wanted her life after he understood what had happened then so be it, but now she had taken the shape of a drake, flying full speed to Ardir’s lab. She would be the bait that led him to Ardir. Beyond that even she couldn’t guess what would happen.

“Just hold the bow and be ready to shoot whoever comes through that door!” snarled Ardir. He was staring into his device, his mind overflowing with knowledge, all knowledge, enough to destroy the guilds a thousand times over if he wanted. The trick was winnowing away the possibilities until he found one he could use. He’d never been so immersed in that world of pure, god-like understanding, and it felt at once like drowning and coming up for air, it was glorious. He controlled the archer, the archer held the bow, in this moment in this room on this day he held the power of all Ravnica. When he was done with the guilds, not even their memory would remain.

Mojmir was exhausted. The Azorius House Guard was decimated, only a tiny handful remained, and most wouldn't live out the night with the wounds they had. The Boros twins were unlike anything he had ever seen before. They seemed to have limitless energy. Even when everyone had been knocked from their feet, the Boros twins seemed to keep fighting. When the swordsman got tired and winded from cutting up Mojmir's men, the mage stepped in to take his place. When she ran out of fuel for her fires, her brother stepped back in. Mojmir had always considered the Azorius soldiers, and specifically the house guard under his command, to be a well-oiled fighting machine, but they were nothing compared to these Boros.

The captain of Casamir's guard had already called on every last scrap and trace of mana he had to keep himself going, but it was a losing battle. His men were dead or dying, he was fast nearing the point of total physical and mental collapse, and Casamir was nowhere to be seen. That angered Mojmir the most. For nearly his entire life, Mojmir had fought and killed for Casamir, as his father had before him. And now, at the end of the line, the man who was both his master and his friend, had abandoned them all.

Whether it was from his exhaustion, his anger, or the blood pooled on the ground he would never know, but Mojmir lost his footing and fell hard to the ground. He landed on his sword wrist, and though it didn't break, his grip loosened. He still held his blade, but barely. The Boros warrior stood over him, blade down, and grinned. Looking up at the man preparing to slay him, Mojmir saw something he never thought he would see. An oversized imp was swooping downward, sharp talons outstreatched, headed straight for the Boros. Even if they had seen him, it would have been too late. Mojmir could barely muster the energy to cringe when the imp impaled the Boros swordsman, killing him almost instantly.

The Boros pyromancer screamed and fell to her knees as her brother died, as though she herself had been pierced. Mojmir tried to ask the imp why he had saved him, but the imp was heading his way, murder in his eyes and talons ready for the kill. So that's it, Mojmir thought You just wanted to finish three enemies off at once. As the imp reached him, however, an intense stream of fire erupted around it's body. From behind, the blood-curdling scream of the Boros mage cut through the battle, and even covered up Lob's death cry. Mojmir marveled. This imp had saved his life, then tried to take it, then saved it again by shielding him from Boros fire. The Azorius guard gave a silent prayer of thanks, though to whom, even he didn't know.

The rage in the face of the Boros fire mage was blazing almost as much as her hands as she approached Mojmir's vulnerable frame. She was breathing heavily, and with each exhalation, smoke puffed from her nose and mouth, like breath in the dead of winter. There was madness in her eyes, the combination of grief, rage and hopelessness that makes ordinary people dangerous, and dangerous people monsters. And she was. Mojmir didn't know if he could speak, and he didn't try. He simply thought to himself that the only thing that could stop her now would be even worse monsters, but the only worse monsters he could see on the battlefield now were the Gruul Elemental, the dragon and the zombified krasis, and they all seemed engaged with one another. Mojmir's luck had finally run out.

The Boros pyromancer's eyes froze in shock as the small knife slid across her throat. Mojmir couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her expression melt away into something more like gratitude as she slumped to the ground and died, the flames on her hands extinguishing like a candle in the rain. A brief question crossed Mojmir's mind: what monster could have killed her so easily. When he summoned enough energy to look up, he had his answer.

"On your feet soldier!" Casamir said with an inappropriate smile. "Come along, I don't pay you to rest in the middle of a battle! We have work to do!"

With considerable effort, Casamir bend down and hauled his guard captain to his feet. Casamir was joyous, almost gitty, and Mojmir found himself hating his life-long employer.

"You know, Mojmir, lying down on the job could result in revoked wages, as per the terms of your contract of service."

Mojmir said nothing. If he could have managed anything more than a toddler's grip on his sword, he would have killed Casamir right there. The look in Casamir's eyes told Mojmir that he knew it. The smirk on Casamir's face told him that he didn't care.

Jaroslav watched as the guardsman’s breast plate started to turn green, first starting at the huge cut, then slowly spreading out from there…

Mojmir watched the rage in the face of the Boros fire mage was blazing almost as much as her hands as she approached his vulnerable frame. She was breathing heavily, and with each exhalation, smoke puffed from her nose and mouth, like breath in the dead of winter. Fire stabbed past a diving imp, drilling through his chest with lethal precision…

For a cruel second each man was held suspended in the hands of Fate, watching as their defeats played out in alternate realities. Each existence flashed by in an instant, hammering them with visions of pain and misery. Sometimes it was caused by misfortune, an errant solider tripping at the last moment, eyes closed by wind blow dust, or simply a stone that had landed a little too awkwardly to cross. Other times their downfall came as a result of their own pride, arrogance, or inexperience. The only thing the visions shared in common was the end result. The Guilds would fall, leaving behind a power vacuum of unimaginable scope. Millions would die as factions long held in check by the power of the Guilds turned on one another, fighting by spell and by blade. Ancient monsters and long buried secrets would add to chaos, until the few survivors were broken to a wretched existence, more barbaric than even the savage Gruul tribes.

The lesson was a simple one. Do not fail.

Each man stumbled as they were released from the vision, but they quickly regained their balance, setting forth to correct what should have gone wrong.

In each of the Fated univserses, Mojmir had tried to evade by going left. Armed by that little bit of foreknowledge, he took one half step to the right, forcing Lob into his suicidal plunge, and buying enough time for Casamir to sneak up behind the Boros mage and slit her throat.

On the far side of the ruins, Mospe-Tr-Gan of the Many Confusions shoved Dove aside as he bolted to his feet. The zomkrasis had just managed to get back to its feet when the ogre scooped up a large rock and hurled it at the beast. The boulder smashed into the undead abomination’s rib cage, shattering the blood smeared bones all over again. Green flesh began to close over the wound almost immediately, but Mospe-Tr-Gan had intention of letting up. The two combatants lunged at one another, and the ogre just barely managed to get out of the way of the foam specked jaws as they closed in the space where his head had been moments before. He wasn’t quite as fast when it came to the kick that caught him in the belly, however, sending Mospe-Tr-Gan spinning through the air before crashing into a pile of cracked support beams.

“I am Mospe-Tr-Gan of the Really Big Stick,” the ogre laughed as he pulled a tree-trunk sized log off the pile. The club, which it could only be called that for lack of a better name, was twice the height of the ogre, as wide as his thigh, and weighed nearly the same. Despite all that, Mospe-Tr-Gan wielded it with all the grace of an expensive veil-dancer.

(It would turn out that the reason for this is because he had been trained by a troupe of veil-dancers, in exchange for the eviction of a gang of unguilded thugs who hadn’t believed the girls when they had claimed rank in the Rakdos guild. It was a common enough misconception when it came to the acts that focused more stimulation and pleasure rather than the more extreme varieties practiced by the more violent clubs and circuses, and girls had promised to demonstrate some of their more “exclusive” moves for the ogre in return for his assistance. Much to their dismay, relief, and ultimate confusion, Mospe-Tr-Gan mistook this as an offer for dance lessons.)

The ogre pirouetted past another vicious bite, only to perform a dizzying series of deboule` as he picked his way across the rubble carpeted ground. Not once did he try to strike the zomkrasis, instead relying on the beam as a balance aid. Dove could only watch in stupefied amazement as the two circled each other like a matador and a krovod, though no matador Dove had ever met would have dared try to pull off a grand jete while being chased by one of the great beasts, let alone five tons of angry undead mutant frog lizard zombie thing.

“Stop showing off and just kill the damned thing!” she finally screamed in frustration.

“But I am Mospe-Tr-Gan of the Many Fine Leaps!” the ogre yelled back. He came down mid twist and frowned when he saw the scowl on her face. “…but perhaps my displays may best be saved for another time.”

He leapt to an open patch of ground, to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally fall over, then changed his grip on the beam so that he was wielding it like a baseball bat. He stood side on to the charging monster and waited for it to charge. Once it was close enough he swung with all his might. The beam connected with the side of the zomkrasis’s, staving in bone and muscle until its brain came out the other side. It all landed as one smashed, pulpy mess before sliding bonelessly into an exposed foundation.

The ogre leaned over the edge and spat on the corpse. “Now stay, you foul smelling mongrel of corrupted science! For I am Mospe-Tr-Gan of the Many Victories, and I say you shall not rise again!”

Without the zomkrasis to interfere with their lines, the Azorius lines had much less difficulty re-ordering themselves against the more mundane zombies that were spawning. While the previous half of the battle had been more than they had expected, this was something they were prepared for. Training and muscle memory took over as they threw themselves into the melee, boxing in the animated corpses to keep the infection from spreading much further. Jaroslav led them in the charge, ensuring not one rotten foe escaped.

Atop the elemental, Gazwin watched the Azorius lines like a hawk, while the dragon kept the Golgari in check. Without the distraction posed by the zomkrasis he was able to spot the Azorius mage who stepped away from the fighting and begin the enchantment that would have trapped the dragon. He threw a ball of fire at the man, who dodged aside as he let out a cry for his fellows. It went unheard over the din of the fighting, however, and before he could try again Kazuq had smashed the man over the head with his shield, laying the mage out unconscious.

As the last zombie fell, the threads of Fate finally snapped. The various factions all retreated back to their corners, eyeing the others in anticipation of when hostilities would be renewed. The silence stretched on, until finally Jaroslav stepped forward into the center of the gathering. One by one the others followed suit, with Gazwin being the last to arrive as he was lowered down in the palm of the elemental.

Casamir was the first to speak. “In the name of the Azoriuz Council and Isperia, First of Her Name, I place you all under arrest for violations of the peace, fighting in the streets, and destruction of private property!”

Jakob, Gazwin, Dove, Mospe-Tr-Gan, and Sain all shared a look with each other before pronouncing in unison, “No.” Jaroslav coughed as he tried not to laugh.

Casamir turned a bright red at their refusal to submit to him, and he could hear his troops shifting nervously in the back ground. “Do you have any idea who I am, or what I could have done to you?”

“I do not know who you are,” Gazwin replied. “Which is one of my problems at the moment. Nor do I care what you think you can have done to me, because it would be nothing more than an empty boast, much as I think it would be for the rest of this little gathering. Or do you really think your authority is really going to persuade a dragon, an elemental, and the Gruul warriors in my company not to kill you? The only thing, only thing that might stop them if I let them off their leash is if the rest of these fellows get there first. At which point the biggest piece of you they will find will be returned to your family in a matchbox.”

“How dare you-!” Casamir began, only to stop short when he felt a disturbingly hot wind on the back of his neck. Turning around as slowly as possible, he found himself eye-to-nostril with the dragon. Thin coils of smoke drifted from the dragon’s snout, and though the smoke made his eyes water he could have sworn that he could see a dim glow getting brighter in the darkness.

“Careful, Gazwin,” Jaroslav warned from the opposite side of the circle. “Just because you hold the power now doesn’t mean that situation will last. I think we all have some leeway to deal with the threat we are currently facing, but that won’t protect you once this is over and everyone wants to make sure someone else is carrying the blame.

Gazwin through his hands up in frustration. “Does everyone know what is going on here but me?”

Jaroslav shook his head. “Did you really think one of the Izzet’s most dangerous mages could just blow up his lab and disappear? I would wager you hadn’t gotten more than a block before all the guilds knew you were missing, and it probably had more than a few people pissing their pants as a result.”

Gazwin’s eye narrowed. “So you don’t know what’s going on, either.”

“Well…”

Jakob snorted. “Well, if we don’t know what is going on, and you don’t know what is going on, why are you even here?” he demanded of Gazwin.

“I’ve been…asked… to kill a rogue Simic mage named Ardir,” Gazwin answered. “I already owe him and his lackey Graz more than a few lumps, but I get the feeling if I wasn’t interested that I wouldn’t have much choice. Why he has to die, I don’t know, save for that he poses a threat to all of Ravnica.” Jaroslav, Mospe-Tr-Gan, and Mojmir all nodded. “You had the vision as well?”

“Fall of the guilds, fall of the city, all the races broken to barbarism?” Jaroslav asked. “I think we can all agree that would be a bad thing.”

“Sounds like fun to me,” Mospe-Tr-Gan chuckled. “But I also enjoy the pleasures of the many soft ladies of nightly delights, and I do not believe they would fare so well in such a world. In their honor and my need I shall join this battle to slay this annoying antagonist.”

“There should be enough room on the elemental and dragon for the Azorius troops,” Gazwin mused. He looked at Mojmir as he asked, “Would the men be willing to follow you?”

“Excuse me, but those are my guards,” Casamir snarled.

Gazwin’s fist flashed out before anyone could stop him. It was a clean, solid hit that struck Casamir across the jaw. Still, Casamir was a veteran soldier, and Gazwin had never been physically imposing, so it should have been easy for the Azorius commander to shrug off the blow…if Gazwin hadn’t added a bit of an electric spike to blow, temporarily scrambling the larger man’s nervous system and dropping him into an unconscious, twitching heap.

“Congratulations, Mojmir!” Jaroslav said as he clapped the younger man on the back. “I do believe you have just been promoted.”

“You’re welcome,” Gazwin added as he shook his bruised fist, much to Mojmir’s dismay. “Now, all in favor of kill Ardir?” The others looked at each other uncertainly, but no one raised their hand, except for Sain. Gazwin smiled appreciatively, but wasn’t sure he could entirely count her vote, as the Gruul were always willing to kill someone.

“Fine, those not in favor of killing Ardir?” Again, no one raised their hand. Sain redrew hers, and pouted unhappily.

Gazwin’s eyes crossed as he struggled not to add a few choice phrases concerning the group’s ancestors. (Though they might have been accurate in the case of the ogre and Gruul.) The entire situation reminded him of herding goblins, except you could get goblins to focus on one task if you dangled something shiny in front of them or lit enough of them on fire. “All those in favor of beating Ardir like a Rakdos slave and then deciding whether or not we kill him later?”

Jaroslav and Mojmir tentatively raised their hands, while Jakob looked unconvinced. Sain’s hand shot back into the air, while Mospe-Tr-Gan began to bounce up and down on his feet as he waved both hands in excitement, giggling the entire time.

‘And that is just damned creepy,’ Gazwin thought as he turned and headed for the dragon.

"Impossible..."

Railu and Maria looked up in the same instant as Ardir spoke, the first sound that had been uttered in what seemed like hours. The old man's face had gone pale, and although Railu knew he must have been mistaken, Ardir's hair seemed somehow thinner and whiter than before. He even seemed to be struggling to breathe just slightly. Maria looked worried. Railu debated with himself as to whether or not he should be, as well.

"What's wrong?" Maria asked softly.

"Everything," Ardir whispered, then continued to himself. "Everything I've planned, everything I've seen..." Then, with an almost startling suddenness, he sprang up from his slumped position. "Nothing! Nothing is wrong, child. But we have wasted enough time here. Our destiny, Ravnica's destiny, is waiting for us."

"But, I thought you said we should wait for Graz and the Boros twins."

"I'm afraid those plans have been changed by...unforeseen circumstances," Ardir answered venomeously. "We have to move now. If we wait for Graz, the others won't be far behind."

"So your perfect, flawless, undefeatable plan didn't work, huh?" Railu added with his own dose of venom.

Ardir's eyes flared with rage, but it only lasted a moment before he slumped his head and his shoulders again. "Yes, Railu, my plan failed. I failed. Our enemies thinned out their numbers a bit, but they did not destroy themselves. Something...happened."

"What?" Railu pressed.

"I don't know," Ardir admitted. "I've never seen anything like it. It was as if reality simply...I don't know. It would take me far longer than we have to explain to you the mechanics of my craft, and to waste the time in the attempt would be suicide."

"So then what do we do?" Maria asked.

"We press on, as quickly as possible, and get to where we're going."

Railu rolled his eyes. "Even though we still have no idea where that is?"

Ardir smiled saddly. "Correction, my boy. We don't know what it is. We know it's buried under this district."

"That doesn't help a great deal, Ardir," Railu pointed out. "Districts aren't exactly small places, and if we have damn near every guild in the city on our heels, we may only get one guess."

"Then we had better make that guess a good one, hadn't we," Ardir countered, his annoyance growing once more. "Look, I may have failed with my plan at the lab, but my abilities in divination still vastly outweigh those of our enemies. Much of the sub-surface of this district is taken up by the ancient buried aquifers, stretches of which have pools large enough for the forgotten merfolk to occupy. Much of the rest is solid bedrock, and another portion is taken up by the Orzhov catacombs. That only leaves a few options, and I've already scried out the failures of the others. Which is why we're here."

Railu shook his head. "You've 'scried out the failures'? Does that mean you've scried out success here?"

Ardir held the younger elf's gaze for a moment, but then slumped again. "No. The same force which is preventing me from knowing the nature of the power we seek is also preventing me from seeing beyond that door." As he spoke, Ardir pointed to the far door of the room. Railu had been staring at this door occasionally over the past few hours anyway. He could sense the power behind that door, and even its look, dark wood and steel rivets, seemed to speak to the importance of whatever was kept behind it.

Maria went to place her hand gently on the wooden portal, but withdrew it before she made contact. "I don't like this, Grandfather. I don't know why, but I feel like we could all die in there."

Ardir joined her and softly rested his hands on her shoulders. "We may. But we will all most assuredly die if we stay here. Remember what we are fighting for, a Ravnica with no guilds to squabble over their petty treasures. A world where everyone can be free and oppression exists only in stories of a forgotten age. We have all three of us agreed to fulfill this vision. We cannot stop now. We must not."

"I don't like this, either, Ardir," Railu added, clunching his bow. "I don't like the idea of going after something we know nothing about, down a path we know nothing about.

"Do you think I do?" Ardir said, somewhere between irritation and desperation. "For the past several years of my life, I have been able to prepare for everything! And now, at my most crucial moment, I know almost nothing! It would be maddening if not for one thing."

"What's that?"

"Hope." Ardir said plainly. When neither Railu nor Maria answered, he continued. "The hope that things can change for the better. The hope that all the wrongs that have been done to the people of Ravnica can somehow be undone, or at least be prevented from being repeated to others. The hope that fate can overcome reality."

Again, the room fell silent. Finally, with a deep breath and an exaggerated exhalation, Railu spoke. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

He walked over and, with a moment's hesitation, opened the dark wood door. Beyond it was a stone hallway carved of blackened stone, stretching onward far beyond the reach of the room's light. Even though he knew it was impossible, Railu could swear he felt a cold breeze hit his face as he took his first step into the unknown fate of Ravnica.

Everyone headed for the dragon. It was a good thing it was a big dragon. There was some minor squabbling over who got to sit where, which was only further complicated by the fact that no one except for Gazwin was willing to sit downwind of the Gruul and the dragon’s insistence that Gazwin sit at the point where its neck met its shoulders. In the end Gazwin was sitting in the pilot’s place, with Sain and Kazuq sitting behind him. Then came Dove and Mospe-Tr-Gan of the Watering Eyes, as the ogre promptly challenged the dark skinned Gruul warrior to a staring contest. Next was Jakob, then finally the two Azorius officers. The rest of the Azorius contingent ended up mounted on the elemental, with the exception of Casamir. The once-haughty official was left behind with a pair of soldiers who had been told to remain as a token escort.

“So do we have a plan?” Kazuq asked, refusing to wrench his gaze away from Mospe-Tr-Gan’s. The two had been at it for several minutes already, but neither looked the least bit fazed. Dove had taken the opportunity to take a nap, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of the dragon’s shoulder lull her into sleep.

“What sort of coward needs a plan?” Mospe-Tr-Gan taunted as his eyes began to narrow. It wasn’t so much that he needed to blink, as it was the fact that he was staring into the wind. “We go, we smash, we break bones and drink their blood! Let the strong do as the will, and the weak make way.”

“Aye, the strong forge the path, but a wise man still stays clear of the boar’s ambush,” Kazuq retorted. “This Ardir fellow we are aiming for, he has already manipulated many with his madness. His mind is twisted, like a snake’s, and we should expect him to be prepared for our coming. What if he had more of those abominations that you fought earlier?”

“I think we should be more worried about the present,” Sain said. She pointed to the north. “Look!”

Far off in the distance was a cluster of rapidly expanding dots. Everyone watched as the dots grew into a flight Boros skyknights mounted on a flock of white feathered griffins. Their armor was polished to a bright sheen, obscuring their exact numbers with blinding flashes of reflected light. The only thing that could be confirmed was that they were headed directly for the dragon.

“They’re not the only ones we should be concerned with,” Jaroslav yelled as he pointed to the south. “Looks like the Izzet have come to join the party!”

Coming from the opposite direction was a flight of drakes, led by three large dragons identical to the ones the coalition was riding on. All of the beasts wore mizzium armor, with scarlet sparks dancing back and forth between the pieces. Streaming pendants had been attached to the dragons’ manes, and carefully constructed boxes had been mounted to their backs to serve as platforms for the mages riding them.

“And it just keeps getting better and better,” Jakob laughed as he looked to the west. Coming out of the sun was a sphinx clad in bronze armor, leading a flock of rocs. The giant birds each carried a team of carefully disciplined mages and soldiers, and the air around them shimmered as the first spells were cast.

“I knew summoning this thing was a bad idea,” Gazwin muttered. He couldn’t help but stare at the Izzet contingent as they approached. There was a small voice at the back of his mind that insisted he should just give up and surrender, take his lumps and then get back to his proper work in whatever penal laboratory they decided to assign him to. It would be the easy route out, just tell whomever arrested him about Ardir’s plot and then let them take over dealing with the rogue Simic. Then he could go back to living his nice, comfortable life where the only thing he had to worry about was the occasional unplanned explosion.

But he knew he wouldn’t. Not couldn’t, wouldn’t. His experiences in the Rubble Belt had changed him in a way he couldn’t describe. It was more than just the savage freedom he had experienced amongst the Gruul, or his baffling relationship status with Sain. It was the challenge the mana had offered him, the exchange of power at the constant risk of being burned. It was the sense of being in control of his own destiny for once. He would never be able to stop tinkering, and he still dreamed of one day demonstrating his science for the Dracogenius, but now he would do it as the dragon’s equal, not as a child seeking his parent’s approval.

“We are so pocked.” Jaroslav let out a low whistle.

“Number 29: The enemy of my enemy is my enemy’s enemy, no more, no less,” Mojmir quoted.

“Yes, Mojmir, I know my Maxims,” Jaroslav answered with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I do not think that is going to help us too much here. We cannot rely on the natural antipathy of the Guilds to do our work for us. We shall simply have to help the confusion along ourselves.” He grabbed hold of one of the dragon’s spines, and carefully crab walked his way up to where Gazwin was sitting. He tapped the Gruzet mage on the shoulder before drawing his blade and pointing it in the direction of the oncoming Boros force. “Fly us closer. I want to hit them with my sword. Then be a good fellow and blast that sphinx, five bolts rapid that should do it. Once we’ve got them good and mad, head straight for your old comrades, quick as you can. Let’s see if we can make this party as friendly as possible, eh?”

Gazwin blood was up, and rushing through him as he continued to direct the dragon towards the Boros air force. The closer he got to their forces, the more excited he became. Finally, I will get to test out some spells I have been saving for just this occasion. Suddenly he noticed a shift pass through the Boros fliers, opening up a huge hole in the middle of their forces.

That's when he felt the electricity in the air spike. With a huge flash, a personage appeared, the air around and behind the personage, fill up with fire. With a warcry that felt like it shook the molecules of the dragons scales, the personage attacked. With a flash, and a wave of searing heat, the dragon roared in pain as the personage passed over it, getting with in mere feet of the dragons shoulder.

Looking over to where the personage had passed over, Gazwin was shocked to find a huge gash gushing out blood on the dragons side. Thinking quickly, Gazwin used a spell to burn the wound, cauterizing it instantly. Looking back at the personage, Gazwin could make out wings and armour glinting in the light. Very few creatures can harm a dragon with such ease, and even fewer work with the Boros. The angel, flourshed her sword, and turned around for another pass. Standing up, Gazwin perpared a simple spell that should at least stall the angel for some time.

With a burst of mana, and using a teleportation device, Gazwin summoned a weird made out of pure energy, and metal. Instantly, the angel veared off course, send out a burst of fire at the weird. In response the weird reached out a arm that intercepted the fire, and then sucked it into it's person. At the core of the weird was a ball of pure Mizzium. Surrounding that ball was electricity sparking all around, giving the weird body and form. With metal parts running up and down the weird, allowing the electricity to run smoothly around it's body. All in all the weird gave a weird semblance of a dragon and a angel. The main body looked humanistic, while the wings gave off a reptilian feel.

With flap of it's energy wings the weird chased after it, leaving a trail of energy in it's wake. Looking around, he noticed how the Boros mages were now preparing spells to attack them with. With a thought, Gazwin, cut off their spells before they even had time to finish them. Silly mages, you are no match for a former Izzet, now Gruul mage! Quack in fear at the might of--- Hearing a loud screech, and seeing a bright bang come from behind him, Gazwin whirled around to see the remaining peices of his weird fall to the ground. The angel, appearing unharmed, charged them once again, except this time, it was even faster, and it's flames brighter then ever.

Oops, I think I miscaculated on this one...

Mokosh ran through the streets, glancing back every once and awhile to make sure that she was not being followed. What was that, a vision? A vision of what? Turning a corner, Mokosh dashed past several merchant carts before ducking into a alley. There Mokosh regulated her breath until she was breathing normally. Whatever it was, I don't think it would have turned out so well if I had stayed in there. Right now I need to gather togther what forces I can and then begin to set up a defensive---

Suddenly, Mokosh realized that she surrounded. Damnit, how did they sneak up on me? Looking around, Mokosh watched as human men split off from the shadows, some literally appearing out of them. Within seconds she was surrounded by twenty or so men. Looking around she could see them holding small daggers, or short swords that were easily conscilable.

Dimir. Mokosh thought to herself when she saw the enemy forces relayed before. One of the smaller men stepped forward, his face hidden from sight, while his feet not making a sound. "Mokosh of the Golgari, I am a servant of Dienda of the Orzhov syndicate. My Mistress is waiting for you. At the moment she is busy trying to recruit a Boros Angel into our ranks, but after her business is completed, she wishes to create a contract with you. Now if you would be so kind." With that the Man stepped aside, as a door made out of shadows opened up behind him. On the other side, she heard hymns of faith pass through the door, and the tinkling of gold coins move around. Annoyed, Exhausted, and out of options she stepped through the door, ready to face her new partner.

Gazwin's dragon dropped like a stone. The stomachs of those riding her lurched upward as those riders panicked for just a moment, until they saw the Boros angel cut through the space above them where they had just moments ago been. Their dragon unfolded its wings but continued to allow itself to plummet. The angel wheeled around for another deadly pass, but before it could charge, one of the attacking Izzet dragons plowed into the celestial warrior at full speed, jarring both off their paths. The second of these three emerging dragons, along with about a third of the Izzet drakes, engaged the front lines of the Boros Sky legion. The rest of the drakes flew past Gazwin's motley crew, and were hammered by the rocs of the Azorius. As the passenger-laden dragon finally regained a steady flight, the final Izzet dragon approached, but slowly. On its back rode a woman whose hair was dyed red and blue in an alternating pattern.

"You've really done it this time, Gazwin!" She shouted above the din of the battle.

The former Izzet-now Gruul wizard narrowed his eyes to get a better look at her, then opened them again in surprise. "Sylene! What in the Infinite Probabilities are you doing here?"

"I got your message, remember?" She held up a pendant, identical to the one he had used to summon his dragon, the same one that had been given to him by Sylene. She indicated toward the battles around them. "I wasn't the only one. You've been making quite a name for yourself."

"Are you here to stop us?" Gazwin asked, looking at her massive, uninjured dragon.

"The Firemind sent a messenger to me with orders somewhat to that effect."

"So where does that leave us, Sylene?" He shouted back.

"Fortunately, I left my lab 18.9 seconds before that message arrived! Besides, the Dracogenius has standing orders about airspace, remember?" With that, she turned her dragon away to engage the giant, bronze-plated sphinx heading toward them.

Gazwin glanced over his shoulder at the others who had gathered with him. "Looks like we get one more reprieve."

"Not yet," corrected Jaroslav, who was holding his stomach and looking a little pale. "If we break off now, someone will just follow. We can't leave until this battle is consumed in chaos."

Sain laughed. "I never thought I'd hear that from an Azorius!"

Jaroslav did not return the laugh. "Just because we shun chaos doesn't mean we don't understand its use."

Kazuq turned around as Mospe-Tr-Gan celebrated something or another. The dark-skinned Gruul rolled his bloodshot eyes, then addressed Jaroslav. "Sounds good to me! What did you have in mind?"

Jaroslav laid one hand on Gazwin's shoulder, and with the other one, pointed to the biggest opening in the Boros line. "If this is worth doing, it's worth doing with insane, reckless abandon, right?"

Gazwin tried to do some quick statistical calculations in his head, but forced himself to stop. That was an Izzet trait, and he was Gruul now, and would be until he died, which would likely be in the next few moments. With a mad grin, Gazwin merely nodded, and guided his dragon straight at the Boros.

On the other side of the shadow portal, Mokosh found herself in a dark room, though not as dark, nor as ornately decorated as she expected. Seated at a plain wooden desk was the Orzhov woman she had seen at Ardir's lab. On either side of her, stood two Basilica guards, both beaten and battered, their armor dented or destroyed. The corners of the room were in shadows, but to Mokosh's left stood the Merfolk woman, along with three of her Simic warriors, nearer to death than the Orzhov guards. The Dimir agents who had ushered her into this room had not followed, leaving the Golgari mage alone with this sad-looking company.

"You must be Diende, I take it."

The woman nodded curtly. "Yes, and you are Mokosh, I believe. We have something in common, you know. We are both interested in maintaining some sort of status quo, and I believe that..."

Mokosh was already annoyed. "Look, you can drop the sales pitch. You and I both know I'm not in a position to argue with your terms. Just tell me how bad this is going to be."

Diende actually seemed upset by this. "This isn't about..." She paused, composed herself, and turned to her two remaining guards. "Will you excuse us for a few moments?" The guards bowed briefly to her, and then departed through a thin door to the right. Diende glanced over at the merfolk, who merely gestured to her three Simic guilders, and they followed suit. Once the door closed behind them, Diende turned back toward Mokosh, then reached up and removed a pin in the shape of the Orzhov symbol from her shirt and laid it on the table.

"This isn't about the Orzhov anymore, Mokosh." The Merfolk stepped forward and laid a Simic sigil on the table, as well. Diende continued. "This is not about the Simic, or the Golgari or any one guild. This is about all the guilds. Something is happening here, and it needs to be stopped."

The merfolk sorceress spoke, her voice like flowing water. "It is true, deathmage. Something is penetrating deep into the land here, and I can already feel the disturbance it is causing. If we do not stop it, it will very likely stop us."

"So what is it you want," Mokosh insisted, unimpressed.

Diende pointed at the chimes hanging from the ceiling, then at the glyphs covering the walls. "Right now, we are in an oubliette under the reliquary. These wards and spells keep out all but the most powerful of ghosts, and even the Obzedat couldn't get in here without alerting us."

"Why all the secrecy?"

"Because if the Orzhov knew what I was about to do, I would be excommunicated...at best." She picked up a single piece of paper resting on her desk. "This is the contract. It is to help us find Ardir and stop his plan. There are," she paused, as if choking on the words, "no strings attached. The Orzhov gets nothing, you owe nothing, there are no tricks. We need your help."

Mokosh grabbed the paper, and couldn't believe her eyes. It read just as Diende said. No strings, no tricks, no details disguised in legal jargon, only one goal, to find and stop Ardir. For an Orzhov to even draft a contract like this could likely be considered blasphemy to some within the Church. She looked back at the other woman. "Is it really this serious?"

Diende nodded. "Nara believes so."

The Simic mage raised her head slightly. "The Orzhov are our enemy, holding land that is rightfully ours. Yet so sure am I that Ardir is the true threat, that I, against all the impulses of my people, have entered into a similar contract."

Mokosh shrugged, grabbed a pen, and signed the contract. "So what can we three do about this, anyway?"

"We four," corrected a voice from the shadows. Mokosh's lip curled up as she recognized the wavering voice of Casamir.

"You, again? The last time I tried to take your advice, it almost killed me!"

Casamir stepped out of the darkened corner, his face red. "None of us have much choice in this matter, but right now, we need one another."

Diende nodded. "I don't trust him either, Mokosh, nor do I trust Nara or you. After all, both the Simic and the Golgari have made it clear they wish to take control of this district from the Orzhov, and who knows what the Azorius want! But as I said, this isn't about any one guild, this is about all of the guilds. I know this district better than anyone, and the laws of Ravnica to boot, and only an Orzhov contract can keep us from killing one another. Nara knows Ardir's magic better than anyone."

"That's two," stated Mokosh. "What about me, huh? And what about him?"

Casamir was the first to answer. "Remember those artifacts you're carrying, Mokosh? The ones I wanted to take from you back in the warehouse? We'll need it to defeat Ardir."

Mokosh laid a hand on her pouch, which contained the trinkets Casamir was talking about. Truthfully, she had no idea what they did, but the guildmaster had been quite insistent that she take them along. Maybe this was why. She refocused on the Azorius.

"And what about you?"

Casamir nearly smiled, but not quite. "Do you know how to find Ardir?" Mokosh said nothing. "Diende? Nara?" They said nothing. "I can find him."

"You know where he's going?"

"No," admitted the old man. "But I've got a strong lead on someone who will."

The Boros were superb aerial fighters, the angels having long since made it a point of training the various riders in the best techniques for handling their mounts. It was said that a Boros skyknight could shoot an apple off a child’s head from five thousand feet without even ruffling the poor kid’s hair, all while flying through a hoop whose diameter was exactly the same as the mount’s wingspan. This was only a slight exaggeration; standard issue Boros bows couldn’t range past three thousand feet. Mount and rider worked day and night to achieve that level of perfection, until they could operate as one unit, relying on muscle memory to accomplish their greatest stunts.

It also made them extremely predictable, and if there was one thing the Azorius truly approved of, it was predictability.

Jaroslav began counting off the seconds on their approach, watching the third griffin from the left. Standard Boros doctrine required the flight leader to hold his position there, in the center of the line. If the flight was going to pull anything out of the ordinary it would be at that man’s orders. The distance closed rapidly, and as they passed the thousand foot mark Jaroslav began reciting the words of his spell again and again. With each completed cycle a rune would flash in front of his eyes before vanishing, and as the tenth one disappeared he knew he wouldn’t have enough time for all of them. At least two of the griffin riders would escape his trap, but…well, close enough for government work.

At fine hundred feet all twelve griffin riders began to scatter, breaking into six different pairs that would surround the dragon to cut it off from any avenue of escape. Ten of them let out surprised squawks and screams of fear as they slammed into azure blue slabs that seemed to materialize out of thing air in front of them. The remaining two hadn’t been paired together, and had no time to react to this sudden turn of events. The first, a woman, had been supposed to dive under the dragon and attack its exposed belly. She never saw the wall that sent her partner corkscrewing into a nearby tower, but she heard his griffin’s shriek as its wing slammed into the slate tiles that covered the tower’s roof. The beast’s hollow bones snapped as seven hundred pounds of rider and griffin rolled over its left wing, also breaking the rider’s legs in the process. Neither would fly in combat again. When the woman realized she was on her own she urged her mount into a steeper dive, fully aware she was no match for half a dozen mages and a dragon.

The other escapee wasn’t so lucky. He was assigned to pair intended to take the dragon head on, working with his partner to blind the target. Without his partner, however, he found himself flying head on for several tons of angry, wounded flying lizard. One that also happened to breathe fire, and oh, look! The Boros knight had forgotten his fireproof armor back at the barracks. The dragon, meanwhile, might not have been as intelligent as Niv-Mizzet, but it was still smart enough to recognize the same symbol that had decorated the angel’s armor on the knights. The man screamed as he was engulfed by the dragon’s breath. His armor began to melt around him, burning through his flesh and muscle to encase the bone below as his corpse tumbled to the street’s below. The griffin didn’t fare much better; its talons scrabbled at the dragon’s scales but couldn’t punch through. The dragon’s claws had no such problems, sinking easily into the griffin’s soft belly to hold it still while the dragon’s fangs ripped its head off.

By that point the other griffins had recovered from Jaroslav’s ambush. The walls he had summoned continued to try and intercept them, but the griffin’s were too agile to be distracted for long. They twisted and weaved between the obstacles, and were soon closing in on the dragon once again.

“There! Under that bridge!” Jakob commanded. “Dive under that bridge!”

“We will never make it!” Gazwin snapped back.

“Do you trust me?” Jakob asked.

“Of course not!” Gazwin laughed, but he did as he was told. The dragon tucked its wings in against its sides and twisted as it screamed towards the point Jakob was pointing at. The bridge was old, and its stones had turned green long ago as a thick carpet of moss. The wood railings that protected the side of the span were grey and splintered, and it looked as if the two buildings it connected had been abandoned a long time ago.

Gazwin couldn’t keep himself from shrieking as they just barely slipped under the bridge, and he did shriek when a pair of large, yellow eyes opened in front of them. The troll that had been living under the bridge roared at having been so rudely woken up, but by that time the dragon was already well past. The griffins took the roar as a challenge, and replied with their own hissing calls of defiance. Six went over the top of the bridge, while four followed the dragons path. Of those four, only two appeared on the other side. The others remained behind to accompany the troll for breakfast.

It was now eight to one, almost even odds for the dragon and its riders.

The skyknight shuddered as two more of his comrades mounts were ripped from the sky.

It wasn't right! Were they not the Wojek, who should be able to strike fear into the hearts of there adversaries? Who performed feats beyond those of most mortal men and women?

And yet this motley of wizard, barbarians, and fighters were tearing them apart. He could not let them live to further shame the Boros name.

The knight yelled out for the griffins to take a new formation and attack pattern. As they heard his commands he heard the guttural cry of a shaman on the back of the dragon.

"What is he-" He never got to finish asking himself his question as the rooftop collapsed sending debre down upon the neck of his griffin sending it into a death spiral.

His final moments he looked up at the sky and saw those he had flown so long with struggle to survive amidst the rubble and spouts of fire and lightning.

I have failed you brothers.

The mass of feathers and twisted plate armor landed near the vedalken, splattering droplets of blood onto him. "Must there be some crazy show going on up there to further delay me?"

He briskly flicked the blood from the leather tunic he was wearing and the satchel underneath his right arm. "Probably stained too..."

The night so far had not been a good one for Droskan. Awaking to a summons to retrieve and deliver something for a shady Azorius official never sat well with him. Especially since he had family investigating the matter within the guild. But then again he also had an aunt working for the Izzet, and a cousin in the Dimir. So guild loyalties were uncertain at best, but soon, should things go his way, he would be a part of a guild as well... If he could figure out for himself where his talents would be best applied.

But for now he had a delivery to make and the route...

Along what was the most efficient route were signs of the recent struggle. A merchant's cart burst into flames from molten Mizzium. The remains of a griffin impaled on the horn of a Krovod. A sphinx stuck in the side of a building, its back legs still twitching. (Even Mospe-Tr-Gan of many Far Fetched Tales could not tell you how it got there... Truthfully that is.)

What was all this madness about? He sure could not ask this pile of meat in his retched remains of a suit of armor what it was. He ducked down an alley to make sure the next thing that fell was not on top of him. "Hopefully this package is not too much trouble," Knowing full well what the kind of packages he had been sent to retrieve before.

He made his way through the maze of roads and alleyways finding himself in a garden courtyard. "Around here somewhere..."

The sign for the apothecary provided the last clue he needed. The door, not even locked, was gently opened by Droskan. Inside the elven, centar and dryad healers all paused in their work. On the table in the middle of them was what was a large humanoid shape with grotesquely misshapen limbs. Truth be told, they were in far better shape then they had been a short while ago as he had feined death before the Selesnya healers had found him among the rumble.

"Ah, it appears he is here," the blue skinned messenger. "I would have a word with him,"

One of the centaurs lifted a staff into her hands, "You must leave. I don't know who sent you but you must leave,"

The vedalken considered her with a pair of dark eyes. Lean build, wirey arms, possibly dangerous in a straight up fight, but he had no intention of fighting straight up if it came to it. "No,"

She raised her staff, but never struck the blow as she saw a white glow and her reach was greatly reduced as well as her stature. Before she stood a good couple of heads taller, now she had to look up to see his knees. She was kicked aside like a mangy cat.

"Now can I talk to Graz, please? I need to deliver him to my boss,"

Graz, even half out from the pain, groaned.

"Your not taking him anywhere," a group of voices said in unison.

I must figure out how they do that, he thought as he noticed the group of wolf riders that had appeared behind him. "Might I say there is a possible solution benefitial for us both? I recently picked up another package that might interest your Worldsoul might be interested in," He reached in the satchel and pulled out what appeared to be a doll in a white wrapping stained red.

Except it wasn't.

The doll, was in fact a human, miniaturized and breathing. She was bleeding and the wrapping did little to help. If one looked close you could see her Civisward armor.

"I could give her to you and not to her superiors," he said readying what was close to the rest of his reserves of mana for a spell. He desired for this to work...

One of the dryads held a hand up. As she did, Droskan looked over at the disabled Ogre. Graz grunted again and the blue skinned man saw why. A bloody bandage over his mouth, a wound from his recent fall.

Hopefully I won't have to translate if this works...

A quick peek into the ogre's mind revealed how many ways he wanted to break the blue man to pieces.

Must be the frustration of so many failed plans.

The last of the skyknights had fallen, and the aerial forces of the Boros, the Azorius and the Izzet were all distracted in their struggle to kill one another, or their desperate attempts to avoid being killed. Gazwin breathed a sigh of relief that Jaroslav's crazy gamble had paid off, and the once-Izzet now-Gruul mage gently laid his hand on his dragon's neck and directed it to fly away from the battle, as surreptitiously as a dragon could. It was only then that he remembered that they really had no idea where they were going, and that realization was accompanied by no small amount of cursing.

He turned back towards his eclectic comrades as he spoke. "So, does anyone know where we should be heading?"

One by one, they shook their heads in the negative. With a shrug, Gazwin turned back forward again. "This might be another very long day."

It did not take long for Droskan to deliver Graz to his current employer. The teleportation spell that he had been given was amazingly potent, and once he had custody of the ogre, the rest was easy. The vedalken forced his eyes open as the glare of the spell faded, and he and Graz were standing in the center of an ornate office, the vague sound of Orzhov chants floating in the background. From behind him he heard a man's voice.

"You have succeeded. Excellent. For once, someone is dependable."

Droskan glanced over his shoulder, but did not turn. He saw the shadowed frame of his boss, a white-haired Azorius of some sort, with a deceitfully kind face. Droskan smiled. "Yes, sir. No troubles."

The next voice to speak was a woman's, coming from behind the desk. "Was it necessary to use the girl?"

The vedalken nodded. "Just as you guessed. The Selesnya wouldn't budge until I made the offer."

"That is unfortunate," she said. "I might have had further use for that one."

"I dislike this bartering in people," came a third voice, this one soft and lyrical, yet undeniably powerful.

"Moralizing makes you weak," noted a fourth, her voice lower and harder than the others. "Think of it as a tactic. Ardir would have no such qualms."

"Mokosh is right," agreed Casamir, "and we are running out of time."

"Perhaps," noted the woman behind the desk, "but I do wish you hadn't insisted I give up my prize. The contracts needed to acquire her were a thing of beauty, and I would hate to think they were wasted."

"Not wasted at all, Diende," Casamir continued. "In fact, it fits into the plan better than if I had actually planned it."

"Our plan or yours, Azorius?" challenged Mokosh.

The older man smiled at this. "Trust me."

"Said the snake to the mouse," added the merfolk woman.

Casamir had the nerve to act insulted at this. "Please, Nara, you do me an injustice! Who of you have I ever betrayed? Who of you have I ever stabbed in the back?"

"At the lab, you tricked me into attacking Jakob," replied Mokosh coolly.

Casamir just shook his head dismissively. "Tricked you? That monster was the one thing most keeping our forces from working together, which, if we had, would have prevented us from having to take this unnecessary step now! Our enemy is, and always has been, Ardir. I knew that, you knew that. Only your Jakob seemed blind to the fact."

"This argument is likewise getting us nowhere," Nara noted. "This ogre has information that we need."

Droskan waved his right hands across Graz's face, and the mystical gag he had placed there dissolved. Graz blinked three times, then spoke. "I regret to inform you that your barbarous treatment and innocuous threats will not avail you. None of the pertinent illuminations to your queries, no matter how excruciatingly posed they may be, will emanate from my larynx."

Collectively, the other five people in the room rolled their eyes. Mokosh was the first to speak, stepping toward the bound ogre threateningly as she did. "Let's just kill him. I can always reanimate the corpse and ask that for directions."

Diende stood from behind her desk, nodding in agreement. "Yes, and if she can't, I'll force his spirit to tell us."

But Casamir shook his head. "No, there is always the risk of damage if he is killed. Besides, with all that Ardir has done to us, I want his servant to betray him willingly." He refocused his attention on the altered Ogre. "Graz, I will make this simple. Tell us where Ardir has gone, or I will undo everything he did to your mind."

In a rare moment for the loquacious captive, Graz was at a loss for words. Finally, he managed, "You wouldn't..."

Casamir smiled. "Oh, I very much would. And if you do not believe I can, remind yourself that the Simic Combine, who trained your Master, is represented here, as well. Think of what it is to be an Ogre, Graz, the rage, the stupidity. Do you really want to go back to that?"

There was a sadness in Graz's eyes that kinder company may have been moved by, but not Casamir. Imploringly, Graz locked gazes with his captor. "But Ardir gave me everything I am!"

Casamir smiled. "And which is worth more? Your gratitude for the gift, or the gift itself? What good is the gratitude if the gift is gone?"

Graz hung his misshapen head down low, and when he finally spoke, his voice was broken and dejected. "What information do you require?"

Just a few short blocks away, another interrogation, this one of a vastly different sort, was also taking place. Allia, a captain in the Civisward volunteer branch of the Wojek league of the Boros legion, lay comfortably on a soft mattress, her numerous wounds being treated by three different Selesnyan clerics. A fourth was speaking to her gently, but she could not quite make out the words. The Selesnyan seemed to be asking her something, but she was just too exhausted to hear.

Nothing in Allia's recent memory had been pleasant. First, her entire unit of Civisward investigators had been killed when that ogre Mospe-Tr-Gan had gone berserk, though even as she recalled that, something about it seemed off. Wasn't there something else to it, some other presence? Allia couldn't remember. All she remembered was smashing her crystal bird, which she had hoped would bring her to Railu. As for why, that, too, was lost in her memory. It all seemed so hazy somehow.

After she destroyed her pendant, everything seemed to go into a fog. She seemed to float for a while, but for how long she couldn't guess. There was no movement, no sensation. No consciousness, but also no sleep. It was a torment that seemed to last forever. Then, with frightening suddenness, she was ripped from that nothingness and into the cold hands of captures she did not and could not recognize. Her mind was still clouded by the ordeal, but it seemed as though she changed hands several times before arriving here, where her wounds were inexplicably being treated.

She still could not hear the words the Selesnyan cleric was saying, but she also did not seem to care. She was safe here, she kept hearing herself say. Her mind kept drifting back to Railu. She had met the man only once, though she couldn't quite place where, but when she had used her crystal, she had been trying to reach him. Why? Where was he? The question seemed to hammer through her head, and for a moment or two, it seemed like it wasn't her own voice asking, but that sudden thought vanished, like all the others that did not focus on the guildless elf. Where was Railu?

Suddenly, in her mind, Allia saw an image of him, but it was dark. Dark and cold. Where was he? He must be underground somewhere, but where? Allia didn't know why, but she was now gripped with an urgent need to find him. Without knowing how or why, Allia pulled back her consciousness. Railu was standing in a long, darkened, stone hallway. There were two other shapes with him, but they didn't matter, and Allia ignored them. She pulled back, moving away from Railu, but only to see the path he must have come. Back and back she flew in her mind, down the stone hall, out an ancient wooden door, through a tiny room, up a flight of stairs and finally outside, where she could see the entrance.

Then, just as suddenly as the vision had started, it ceased. Allia was jarred back to the small room and the clerics of the Conclave. The speaker said something, a word Allia vaguely recognized as "finally," before she slumped down again into sleep.

On the back of the mighty dragon, moods were darkening, and tempers growing short. They all knew they needed to reach Ardir before disaster would strike, but they knew little beyond that. They did not know where to find Ardir, or what Ardir was doing. They did not know what the guilds knew of the events, only that, with the attack in the sky, they must have known something. They did not even know what exactly the forthcoming disaster might be! All they knew is that they needed to stop it or risk the doom of Ravnica. They simply had no idea how.

They had been flying aimlessly for several minutes, circling around the edge of the district in the vain hope of seeing something that might serve as a clue. Gazwin was careful not to venture too far back toward the fray they had so narrowly escaped, but still, they were getting nowhere, and far too slowly. Suddenly, though, Dove's Viashino nostrils flared. More to herself than to anyone else, she said "What is that strange scent?"

She looked over at Mospe-Tr-Gan, and thought she caught a glimpse of something on his skin, something glowing a very dull green, but she knew it must have been the sunlight. Still, the Rakdos ogre had a very strange expression on his face, and without a warning, he started moving toward the dragon's neck. The other passengers of the airborne lizard had to scramble awkwardly and frantically to move out of his way. When he pulled Gazwin out of his pilot's position, the confused mage finally asked him why.

"Because I know where they are," answered Mospe-Tr-Gan in a voice that was not his own.