dimir-archivist

[dimir-archivist]

Hello Roxie. How are you?

Hello

[dimir-archivist]

You're sure it was that devil, 100%? From what I've read of Cappena, you have myriad of unsanitary practices that could lead to nausea. Also, are you authorised to execute a citizen without trial? If not, I may have to report you.

I was just walking home, minding my business, when all of a sudden some Cabaretti devil offered me a cupcake. Now, we had been getting reports of people not feeling well after coming through here, so I knew something was up. Of course it was one of them. So, I took his cupcake, threw it in his face, then threw his face on the pavement.

Then, I gave him a choice. Pen or sword. Little thing picked sword. Can't blame him, Brokers contracts are known for being unrelenting. Well, that's another nuisance off the streets. For a better Capenna.

[dimir-archivist]

Congratulations! This'll be great for you. Say hi to my Mom while you're there. Really happy for you. :)-<

Dear mister Rakdos,

We are sending you this message to inform you that after further review and discussion you have been accepted into Strixhaven.

Please visit by the biblioplex or reach out to an admissions officer if you wish to complete the registration.

Kind regards,

-The Strixhaven Admissions Council

Oh.

HELL YEAH!

Knew I’d get in.

[dimir-archivist]

A Reason to Hate

            “Wonderful night, everyone! Oh, so good to see you all again!” Gesserith held the door open for his friends, all just a tad inebriated. Not too much, the fun amount where everyone gets to laugh and relax a bit. “Any more plans you think you’ve got rattling around, Bart?”

            Bart sighed. “Gee, I dunno Gess. It’s not like we’re 20 anymore. We have aching bones and livers that can’t take hits like that anymore. But unlike my wife, my brain hasn’t left me yet! Why not head out to Tiffany’s? We could eat some good food. Just like we used to, except now at 8 at night rather than 2 in the morning.”

            Another voice rang out. “Aw c’mon, Bart. We can have a little more fun than that. The turnipball courts are right down the street and up a few levels. We need some exercise, gotta work off those calories!” Jared’s fitness had always been encouraging for Gesserith. Mostly. The constant protein shakes wore on him a bit. Damn if they weren’t tasty though.

            “Sure,” Gesserith responded. “Haven’t played in years. But, no better time than the present. Asana, think you can take me?”

            “Don’t forget me!” Bart followed. It was a long-time joke between the two from an old play. “I’ve been keeping up.”

            “But your joints haven’t, Bart,” Asana teased. “Even back in high school, I could’ve taken you down. I’m sure I still can now. Let’s get moving.” She led the charge to the nearest ascension point. Jared went after, making sure she didn’t get too far ahead. Bart and Gess went together, neither wanting to be last, neither wanting to be first. By the time they got to the elevator, Jared and Asana were both out of breath, clearly having found some way to compete on the short journey there.

            Gesserith sighs. “You two haven’t changed one bit.”

            “NOPE! Gotta hang on to that whimsy, unlike someone here,” Jared bites.

            Gess shakes his head. “Someone had to make sure you yahoos didn’t run straight of a ledge. Now let’s skedaddle, we’ve got a game to play.”

            “Skedaddle. Sure thing, old man,” Asana whispered. Pretending he didn’t hear that, he called the elevator, bringing all of them up to Park Heights. The sun had just begun to set, light beaming across the buildings. Gesserith yearned for the days when he had lived here, but it was better than being a Phyrexian. It was a worthy sacrifice, but damn if he wished a devil didn’t have to drop his home on an angel.

            They made their way to the nearby courts, a thankfully short walk. The courts were open, so they made their way right in and grabbed a nearby playset to start the game. Gesserith served, and the volley commenced. Back and forth, they went far into the night, only taking a break here and there to use the bathroom. Some rounds even went for minutes, showcasing just how much of an endurance match turnipball really was. They were all Brokers, so they had all trained well to be able to keep up this pace for a whole day if needed. Aside from some particular moments, it was never needed. Outside of turnipball matches, of course.

            As the night went on, less and less people passed by, all likely tucked away in their homes by now. But Gesserith felt… off. He swore he had seen the same few Riveteer-looking devils pass by a couple of times. But he didn’t have much time to think, his friends were never really one for “down-time”. Once the bell tolled at midnight, Bart was the first to set down his paddle. “Okay, okay, I give up. We’ve been here for… who cares? I’m tired.”

            “Yeah, me too. Omenpath work has had me exhausted recently,” Gesserith complained. “I wanna go home. Go to bed.” He set down his gear next to Bart’s and headed for the cage’s door. Him and Bart were stretching out and groaning like men their age. Jared and Asana glanced at each other, silently agreeing that yes, it was time to go, no matter how much they wanted to push each other forward beyond their limits. Workout buddies do that to each other.

            With everyone turning in their gear, they made their way back to the elevator, with just a little less energy than they came with, and a little less alcohol. “Good game, everyone! I almost broke a sweat!” Jared bragged, clearly exhausted. “Another round to end the night?”

            “No. I think we’re done here. Let’s go home,” Gesserith said. The elevator finally arrived, and they all piled in. Finally, after what felt like ages, they all got off and started walking back. But they didn’t walk to far before they heard some clanks from all around them. Quickly, they all went on high alert. They all tried to pinpoint a location to try and gain an advantage. An advantage they did not gain.

            A pipe came crashing down from above them, falling directly onto Jared. While everyone else recoiled, three devils came down following the pipe. In the dust, one of them ran forward with a construction hammer, and dealt a crushing blow to Bart. Gesserith was barely able to dodge a follow-up swing, conjuring up a shield for the flurry after. The remaining two targeted Asana, who nabbed a nearby pipe to use alongside her shield. Gesserith was barely able to hold against the hammer going his way, but he pushed back. He reached for his dagger, drawing it into the air. But it wasn’t there. He didn’t remember to bring it. Why would he, this was supposed to be a chill night with friends. Grabbing the hammer, he pulled the devil closer, beating him with a flurry of blows until it falls down, hammer at its side.

            Asana, meanwhile, was having a much harder time. Even for someone of her skill, she found it hard to deal with the two issues in front of ��� or behind – her while just seeing her friend die in front of her. She swung the pipe around, trying to clear a space while Gesserith dealt with his foe. But she found herself backed into a corner. One kept jabbing and poking, trying to get past the shield, while the other climbed up and around. It came down with a jackhammer on top of Asana, tearing her apart in front of Gesserith and Bart.

            “BASTARDS!” He charged at them, fury and tears in his eyes. Closing the gap in a stunning display of strength, he grabbed one devil, slamming it into the pavement with a crunch. “DIE! DIE! DIE YOU PIECE OF SHIT, DIE!” A jackhammer swung around, meeting his charge. With a leap, he vanished into the shadows around him, crashing down onto the devil beneath him with a foot to the head. Gesserith observed the chaos around him. The chaos that had claimed two of his friends. But the chaos wasn’t done yet.

“Hey Edmund! The Hayashi send their regards!!” The first devil rose, hammer in hand, bringing it down on Bart’s chest. A scream echoed through the area, ending swiftly after. “Now why don’t you join them and make this easier fo-” Its monologue was cut short when Gesserith picked up Asana’s pipe and beamed it directly at its head. Dazed, it stuttered around, barely seeing a flash of a coat grabbing his head and twisting it around before it all went dark. Gesserith panted, standing over the six corpses around him.

Again. It happened again. The people he cared about, killed by something he couldn’t prevent. Because people wanted to hurt him. People who didn’t care about anything. They didn’t care about laws. Order. Lives. All they wanted was their own desires and a paycheck. Disgusting. He had worked his whole life to bring a sense of order to chaos. But people – no, things – like this. These agents of chaos. What good did they have in making a better world? Nothing. The Riveteers have helped, on occasion. But they destroyed his home. They took his friends in the past. The present. The future too, probably. No more. He was tired of letting this chaos run rampant, taking the lives of everyone he cared about. He may not be a god, or angel, but he was a planeswalker. He was strong. No one would fall victim to this chaos again, so long as he could do anything about it. And all of these devils, demons, the whole lot of them, they all exist to sow this chaos. If they ran on red and black mana, their whole desire, their reasons for existence, was to cause him pain and suffering. As far as Gesserith was concerned, they were worth no more than the blood spilled around him. No more will he suffer. It was time for action. Not through violence, not yet, but rather through whatever order he could create on his own. Through his influence, Capenna would be made safer. Better. For everyone that mattered.

[dimir-archivist]

that's totally okay. we do these because they are fun and make us happy. If it does not make you happy, why do it? ::::)

out of character post i'm sorry i keep forgetting to post from this blog it's really hard for me to keep up with rp 😔

[dimir-archivist]

religious killer: i can hear God speaking to me, to kill the demons that live in this world with my gun of justice

atheist killer: I kill only because of my own moral code. Whether it's for money so I can survive, or self-defense against a threat, I am the one who chooses when I kill.

agnostic killer: nobody really knows why I shoot people

[dimir-archivist]

No your honor i would never kill out of anger. I killed that guy for sport

[dimir-archivist]

Of course not, I fully support your inter-planar hypercult endeavours. However, most demon-worshshipping cults lean towards the esoteric side of entertainment, and aren't always considered safe family activities.

Cults are wonderful, great, and normal.

[dimir-archivist]

Entirely depends on the cult. Some cults, such as the Selesnya Conclave, provide useful services like... hmmm... I'll get back to you on the Selesnya's usefulness.

But, not all cults are demon worshippers, some are kinda nice, like the Reckoners.

Cults are wonderful, great, and normal.

[dimir-archivist]

Family

11:23pm 8th Mokosh, 10,080 ZC

Lyswin slithered along the 5th district’s streets, slightly drunk from the party she and her fellow legionnaires had just been to. (off duty, of course). She was on her way to an old Izzet friend's house, planning to stay the night and sleep off the after-effects. She slipped down past Ismeri Library, almost failing to notice the thin paddle-like tail slip round the back. Any other person, even some Boros, would simply ignore it. But Lyswin knew that tail didn’t belong to any naturally occurring race on Ravnica. So either an interplanar wanderer was slinking around where they shouldn’t be, or a Simic krasis was loose. And Lyswin knew first hand just how dangerous both those things could be. So, attempting to focus despite her drunken state, Lyswin readied herself, and  followed the tail.

11:25pm, 8th Mokosh, 10,080 ZC

Chima had had a rather horrible day. First, her girlfriend had a test run to attend, so she was lonely all day, then she was uncermoniously knocked out and dumped in the Ismeri Archives, and now someone was following her. How wonderful. 

The follower wasn't doing a very good job. They seemed to bump into every obstacle, as if they wanted Chima to know they were there. Maybe they did. A mugger trying to distract her, so their accomplice could jump her from behind. Cute plan, totally ineffective. Chima was leagues ahead of any back alley criminal in terms of combat training. But that wasn't right. No-one else was in the alleyway, and the emotions floating off her stalker's mind were of righteousness and duty, not greed or desperation. Whoever was doing this thought that they were in the right. Chima probed a little deeper… 

Oh, fuck.

11:30

Lyswin was still hot on the trail on the interloper, if a bit wonky from the alcohol. But given that the unidentified creature hadn't yet turned around, she assumed that she was still undetected. She laughed to herself. Off the clock and still bringing safety to Ravnica’s streets. If Fena could see her now. Oh, she was going to be tired tomorrow. But, no rest for the wicked, and Lyswin certainly wasn't going to let another krasis- or invader- ruin anyone else's lives, except maybe that really rude Rakdosi from the burger joint. Bumping into another stack of boxes that hopefully weren't important, she pursued the tail through a 

poorly-kept-secret Undercity access point. Most interplanar folks wouldn't know about this, so it was almost definitely another Simic abomination that Lyswin would have to put down. Shame. She had just been starting to forgive them.

11:35

Chima was panicking. Not only was she being followed by a drunken Boros, which almost guaranteed to give you a bad time, the Legionnaire was her sister, who was the one person in the world Chima would want to see less than her first ex. Top ten ways to make a shitty day worse? Throwing in the potential of having to kill another family member is probably top three. If Lazav finds out this happened… no. This will be fine. It’ll all be fine. 

Chima wished she believed that. Now, she was nearing her house. No way Lyswin could follow her there. Yeah, safe. Very safe. Yeah.

11:40

Even in her drunken state, Lyswin recognized where the smell of fungus & rot ended. They had entered Dimir territory. She shuddered. She had been at crime scenes that had never been properly confirmed or verified, but everyone knew it was the Dimir anyway. Heads that sounded hollow, people who could’ve rectified the full terms & conditions of the original Guildpact just the day before reduced to blubbering wrecks that couldn’t tell you their own names. House Dimir was terrifying, and they kept getting away with it. And now she was encroaching on their territory with no warning. If they saw this as a threat… Then she was already dead. No sense in turning back now. If the Dimir erased her from the records, then at least she knew she had died in the pursuit of goodness. And that was enough for her.

11:45

Lyswin was going to die as a total idiot, and Chima would never forgive herself. 

There was no way someone else here hadn't noticed the two snakes in a cat & mouse chase, and no chance they wouldn't report it. And, since this was in clear violation of… some treaty the House & Legion had signed, the Higher-Ups would have no issue killing Lys. Granted, the defence that Lyswin was drunk might be useful, or if Chima could just erase it… or if they left the Dimir’s range of influence. Obviously, House Dimir controlled everything from potato prices to high-end criminal trial, but if the Tannaris weren't in their official territory claim, they might not even care. Unfortunately, with the exception of turning back, the only piece of Non-Dimir land near here was the Rakdos’s small bit of Undercity they took as compensation for a brawl between them and an out-of-control zombie horde. Chima had once had… an experience with an Orzhov angel there. But, if any confrontation happened, it would be preferable.

11:43

Lys was annoyed & confused. Two things she tried to limit feeling as much as possible. It was as if this mysterious figure couldn't decide where it wanted to go. It kept turning around, leading her in different directions, like it was lost… or it was trying to get her lost. This was a Dimir ambush. She kept moving forward, trying not to let them know she knew. If she could get closer to the mystery tail, she might be able to take them as a bargaining chip. It was a foolproof plan. She waited until the next time she felt her prey’s movement slow, then slowly built up a blast of white mana in her hand, then flung it forward to where she assumed the head would be. The brief rush she felt when she heard the gasp and thud of her blast hitting her mark was forgotten in anticipation of finding out just who it was this whole time. From the voice, it sounded Eighth District. She flung herself round the corner to discover… 

11:43

Chima was worried and lost. She knew that they had entered the Rakdosi territory, but it was quiet. No screams of pleasure or pain, no dripping of blood from a show that hadn't cleaned up properly. Something was very off. Something was… hot.

Chima barely had time to register the increase in temperature before the beam hit her down, almost knocking her out. She saved her face with her bag, still full of marshmallows from the night before. She blinked till the tiny moons stopped appearing in vision, sitting up just in time to hear a painfully familiar voice.

“Chi?”

[dimir-archivist]

Come Back to the Light With Me

A strange heavens looked down at him. Stars swirling and twinkling, bathed in various colors of the cosmos itself, with constellations that he swore were moving greeted this strange pilgrim. That was what he was… wasn't it?

It was a strange thought still, that this was a pilgrimage. As he looked down at his wings, atrophied and curled with fingers pointing up towards the sky above, he decided that it was as good a word as any for his journeys here. He was here under a religious pretense, after all. The Saint had sent him with good reason, and he was seeking a way to be rid of his wings. They were starting to ache, now, when they were not in the slings that had been fashioned for him. They were even aching while kept within them, which was why he let them rest on the ground while he sat. Perhaps it was a good sign.

A journal was open across his lap, his legs folded neatly beneath. A pen had been held loosely in one hand for some time now. He wished to record a travelogue. Moreso as a place to hold his thoughts and reflections than something that should be shared with the wider world, though he did also keep in mind that the words he wrote may very well be studied one day. It was such a strange thing to think about. His very words may be recording history.

He looked up at the dark, unfamiliar sky once more, and he began to write.

Fourth of Megasphagion, year

What was the year here? He realized he had never asked. He decided to leave it blank, for now. That could be edited later. Most of this would need to be translated into his own native calendar afterwards anyway.

I do not know for how long I have been here, only that it has surely been more than a few weeks since I left Alta Torrezon. My time within this plane has been as confusing as it has been enlightening. I have met strange and generous people, as well as a familiar face that I never would have expected. Though, in hindsight, I suppose I should have.

Another night, I shall write on my arrival in more detail. For now, however, all that I will say is that I was rescued by a siren representative of the god Kruphix, by the name of Aoidi Hymnia, who brought me to a cavern sanctuary where I met the gorgon Menea and her niece, Malkonia. Menea is a representative of the god Pharika. More will be shared on their domains and their means and methods of veneration at a later time, as for right now, I am focusing instead on a different diety and his representative.

I am currently within a labrynthine city called Skophos. This is a city of minotaurs who all primarily venerate the god Mogis, a god of vengeance and one of warfare, as far as I am able to tell. His chosen champion is a minotaur by the name of Dhazdoro. He is quite loud and proud and has been more than eager to share about the splendors of this city. Its people do not know what to make of me. To them, I am nothing more than a strange winged human. A human! The thought amuses me still. I shed my humanity long ago, but this plane does not have native vampires, as far as I can tell. I am the first they have seen. What an impression they are getting.

I am to learn more about vengeance, I have been told. I have also been told that I am repressing certain emotions too keenly. I do not know how to feel about this. In principle, I disagree. I am not suppressing much of anything, aside from what must be suppressed. The hunger, the encroaching presence of the great god of night upon my psyche. The poison that surely comes with these wings he has cursed me with. They insist upon it, even if they do not say so overtly. It is… strange. But so much about this has been strange thus far.

I shall be visiting their temple in order to observe some ceremonies within the coming days. This month is the month of Mogis's veneration, so there are a few different rites and rituals that must be observed at this time. Quite the auspicious time for my arrival. I have been told that there will be contests and some sort of celebration also, but I do not know if we will be remaining for long here. There are others whom Menea and Aoidi wish for me to meet and to help give me the guidance I seek.

He pauses in his writing. Something is squeaking at him. He looks down and sees a small bat looking up at him, wings folded and being used to prop up the rest of its small body. Mavren's brow furrows as he looks at it, and he sees a glint of something a little more sinister in its eyes. He nearly jumps and quashes the thing before he notices that there is something tied to its back. The bat looks undeterred and unbothered, and takes a few steps closer. Mavren carefully retrieves the small rolled note. The bat sits patiently, quietly chittering as he reads it. Mavren lets out a sigh. He then picks up his pen and continues to write.

My apologies for whomever else reads this in future, but my previous thoughts have just been interrupted by a small winged messenger from my homelands.

I do not know how you were able to find out that I was here, but I suppose I should not be surprised. Surely this must mean the Betrayer is aware of my absence in full, which may mean I must hasten my journey here. You did not sign this note, but I know it is you. Who else could it have been?

Mavren sets the note within the spine of the journal.

I know you miss me. And, in all honesty, I miss you too. I regret that it has come to this, and I long for the days where we could be together again. But… we cannot. You know this as well as I. The moment you went and found that damnable tome, the moment you turned your back most fully upon the Saint…

He paused in his writings. The bat was still looking up at him. He looked back at it, holding a hand out to it. The bat stepped into his palm, chittering quietly, then it crawled down his arm and nestled into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

… it was over. I have tried and tried and tried to get you to return to the light, but now you are forever damned. Even before then, in the short years after the return of our Blessed Saint, we fought so often. And yet, we tried to make it work. “Set it aside”, we'd say. And so we would try. Just so we could have another quiet night, another night of passionate love, another night of peace before the inevitable happened. I made my peace with all of this long ago. I knew it would not last. Not unless you changed your mind, but I knew you would not, just as surely as I knew mine would never change.

I do not hate you. Never let it be said that I hated you. I know that you were hurting. Many were. So many were and are. It is not an easy thing to sit with. Failure and chastisement always hurts and cuts deeply. I wanted to help you. I wanted to help everyone, but I failed. I faltered. I couldn't save you.

Once again, his hand stilled. He felt a tightness in his chest. He blinked away moisture in his eyes. The bat nestled in a bit closer, rubbing its surprisingly soft fur into the crook of his neck. He brought up a hand to give it a gentle brush with a finger. It squeaked contentedly.

I pray that this journey will show me how to help you. You are lost. Deceived and confused. All of your kin are, save perhaps the Antifex. I do not think you wanted this. I do not think that many who have rallied to the banner of your god ever wanted this. You knew as well as I that divisions were forming in the church. We both spoke of it anxiously at length, but there was always an impasse. I know why you did this. I know you just wanted to help. I know your intentions were good, but… your methods, your means, everything else is nothing but poison and darkness. It is unforgivable what you have caused.

But I still do not hate you. I… I don't know if I ever could. It's so strange. I hold a deep enmity for the Antifex. She knows what she's doing, and she's always been bloodthirsty and a warmonger. She's famous for it, after all. But… but you? I saw the look in your eyes when you confronted me the night after you read that journal. You were in pain. You were lost. You were hoping, desperately, that this would mean we could all go back to the way things were. But I knew that was impossible. And I think you did too.

I miss you. I wish… Oh, light of the divine, how I wish I could see you again, beyond this fanatical veil. I wish I could see the man I fell in love with again. I wish I could hold you one last time and apologize. One final night, away from all of this, where I could simply…

A tear slipped down his cheek. The bat squeaked softly, as though it was trying to reassure him. He wiped at his eyes.

… explain. Where I could guide you back to the light. But this is impossible, I know. And I am sure that you wish for the same thing. What a miserable fate this is!

And yet, I must keep looking forward. I must keep moving on, for the good of the people that you are still betraying. I must be the light for them that I could not be for you.

But first… I must find that light myself. I must find what it means and learn its lessons. I must learn who I am meant to be. Hopefully I will be able to find these answers in this far distant land.

I will return to Torrezon in time. And perhaps, when I bring back the light I had lost, just maybe… you'll find yourself attracted to it again, and you may still be able to be saved. It is a naive hope, and one I shall not cling to. I know better. You are as devoted as I am. You always were.

I have gotten wildly off-topic. This was supposed to be a meditation on my time here in Skophos, and here I am, mourning a man and a past that can never be again. I suppose it is a potent reminder of what all of this is for. I hope to defeat Aclazotz so that his poison may infect us no longer. I wish to free us from the shackles he has placed around our souls. I wish to prevent others from having to go through what we have gone through.

I am simply… I am simply unsure of how to do this. And so I walk the realm of gods and godkillers, seeking the answer. And my first true lesson is to lie with a god of vengeance and slaughter. I suppose there would be no greater diety to begin with in such an area of wanted expertise.

My words have meandered long enough. I believe I need more time to think before I commit more words to the page. We shall see what the dawn may bring.

He sits a moment to let the ink dry on the page before he closes the journal, setting it aside. The bat remained in the crook of his neck, squeaking gently at him. It did not seem keen on moving anytime soon. Mavren sighed, then slowly got to his feet. His wings pulled at him, making his muscles ache. He still could not move them, and they were becoming more and more sickly and shriveled as time went on. Perhaps they were finally preparing to fall off and necrose. But some part of him worried that they would begin infecting him before that came to pass.

Perhaps he should seek out Menea or the other physicians before things became too advanced. He would need his strength to keep venturing forth, especially if he sought to return home.

He put the journal under his arm and started walking back to the place where he was staying while remaining in Skophos. Few of the people of this place were out and about, but they seemed to have gotten… used to the presence of him. They were not staring nearly as much as they used to, and for that he was grateful.

Once he made it to his… bed? He did not recall the word they had used for it. He raised a hand to try and get the bat to move, but it only chittered at him and stayed right where it was. He shook his head softly.

“You may get crushed, little one,” he said. The bat squeaked at him. He sighed. “Very well. But I do not know how your presence will be tolerated here.”

He slowly laid himself down, having to adjust his wings before he did so, and the bat crawled and laid down on his chest. It chittered softly at Mavren, and Mavren gently pet it. He remained there, petting the tiny creature, in quiet contemplation, until the light of dawn began to light the horizon.

[dimir-archivist]

No. Guilds are chosen, not assigned.

It has come to my attention that some people may actually want to visit Ravnica, but are unaware fo the layers and layers of interguild politics that govern society. So, I have gathered some of the best books we have on each guild

With further ado, because ado sucks, :

Essential reading on the guilds for those planning to visit Ravnica:

Mizz, Myself, and I - the details of the Life of Niv Mizzet, Izzet Parun, as Dictated by Himself. By Niv Mizzet, The Firemind (note- only volumes 4, 8, 22, and chapters 8 & 102 in the 34th volume are necessary to understand the Izzet League)

The Rubblebelt Transcripts (book on Gruul Clan philosophy gathered from evidence from their (exceedingly) rare legible graffiti)

The Pocket Guide to Surviving the Rakdos, by Arrestor Benti Johnston. (note- skip all the bits that aren't quotes from actual Rakdosi Cultists, or diagrams)

The Shadowed Guild, by Ennon E Mous. (note- exactly one paragraph in here is true)

Understanding the Undercity- The Culture and Tradition of the Golgari, by Mulak Voneril. (Surprisingly not demonised view of Golgari Culture, and even includes recipes.)

The Abridged Edition of Azorius Law and Procedures, for the Ravnican People's Use. Pocket Edition. (this wouldn't fit in Niv's pockets, exercise caution.)

Boros Field Guide, no author listed. (They do, suprisingly, just give one to anyone. I have like 22.)

Why We aren't a Cult, by Tosji Contrar- Showing the Truth of the Conclave's Practices (note. He just describes a cult.)

The True Corruption of the Obdezat, by Teysa Karlov. (Even her books are hot)

From Vig to Vannifar- The History of The Simic Combine, 2nd Edition, by Himac Nantira (no notes, very good book, you should buy 20 for your friends and family)

Note that none of these are necessary for surviving Ravnica, just highly recommended if you don't want to end up insulting an entire guild and getting sent to superjail. (we are very paranoid about people form other planes).

-Chima Tannari, Archivist & PR Officer.

[dimir-archivist]

She gets out of bed in her owl onesie and walks over to the kitchen. After grabbing a mug she opens up her tea cabinet and browses trough the options, eventually settling on a Kamigawan herbal tea which she puts into the mug. While walking over to the table she opens up her communicator and scrolls trough posts for a bit before conjuring water into her cup and boiling it by putting a finger in it.

She takes a sip and types a message to her girlfriend

"Good morning Leta, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out again sometime soon maybe? I miss you." She leaves it in the textbox, unsent.

After finishing her tea she gets up and brushes her teeth at the sink, after which she goes back to her bedroom to get dressed.

[dimir-archivist]

Welcome to the Planar Network, kid. I'm Chima, and you have just entered the best & most chaotic communication channel in the Multiverse

Notes Day 1) Leaving home!

Hi message box! Wait I should probably define how you came about… The box I’m talking into seems to record and transmit what I say to… somewhere? I think it’s storing this. Somehow. Anyway, it’s letting me talk to people from other planes, and I got told by one of them that Arcavios would be a good first plane to visit, I’m talking into this as more of a Distract from the very real fear of falling out of reality and dying horribly’ thing, I’ve never properly tried going anywhere other than home. Yknow, folding landscapes, crystalline rivets underpinning great auroral shapes, gonna miss here if I can’t get back.

I’ll try and update this funny box soon, if I can work up the courage to actually do it. Maybe I’ll go find where the box came from and return it to the owner?

It (and by it I mean a close friend) told me Ezza and Karu were wonderful to see. It didn’t tell me if they were people or places or food, but it was extremely positive about the plane. It just used the Omenpaths though, not anything else. I wonder if it’s doing okay, wandering Omenpaths and spotting the rest of the multiverse’s many, well I don’t know what’s out there. Going to assume some sort of liquid-light refraction though, it told me about a prismatic cascade somewhere out there. Maybe these Ezza and Karu things made that technicolour flow? I’ll find out today, I have to.

[dimir-archivist]

Your sixth most recent emoji is how your guardian angel feels about you

[dimir-archivist]

It has come to my attention that some people may actually want to visit Ravnica, but are unaware fo the layers and layers of interguild politics that govern society. So, I have gathered some of the best books we have on each guild

With further ado, because ado sucks, :

Essential reading on the guilds for those planning to visit Ravnica:

Mizz, Myself, and I - the details of the Life of Niv Mizzet, Izzet Parun, as Dictated by Himself. By Niv Mizzet, The Firemind (note- only volumes 4, 8, 22, and chapters 8 & 102 in the 34th volume are necessary to understand the Izzet League)

The Rubblebelt Transcripts (book on Gruul Clan philosophy gathered from evidence from their (exceedingly) rare legible graffiti)

The Pocket Guide to Surviving the Rakdos, by Arrestor Benti Johnston. (note- skip all the bits that aren't quotes from actual Rakdosi Cultists, or diagrams)

The Shadowed Guild, by Ennon E Mous. (note- exactly one paragraph in here is true)

Understanding the Undercity- The Culture and Tradition of the Golgari, by Mulak Voneril. (Surprisingly not demonised view of Golgari Culture, and even includes recipes.)

The Abridged Edition of Azorius Law and Procedures, for the Ravnican People's Use. Pocket Edition. (this wouldn't fit in Niv's pockets, exercise caution.)

Boros Field Guide, no author listed. (They do, suprisingly, just give one to anyone. I have like 22.)

Why We aren't a Cult, by Tosji Contrar- Showing the Truth of the Conclave's Practices (note. He just describes a cult.)

The True Corruption of the Obdezat, by Teysa Karlov. (Even her books are hot)

From Vig to Vannifar- The History of The Simic Combine, 2nd Edition, by Himac Nantira (no notes, very good book, you should buy 20 for your friends and family)

Note that none of these are necessary for surviving Ravnica, just highly recommended if you don't want to end up insulting an entire guild and getting sent to superjail. (we are very paranoid about people form other planes).

-Chima Tannari, Archivist & PR Officer.

[dimir-archivist]

“The Orzhov are homophobic”

Yes, because the original Obzedat were totally 5 “best friends” who lived together in total isolation.