#March of the Machine Commander

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Yawgmoth's Vile Offering by Chase Stone

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Sunscorch Regent

"We trust in the scalelords, bringers of justice that none can escape." —Urdnan, Dromoka warrior

Artist: Matt Stewart TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[mtg-art-daily]

Corpse Knight

"With each knight that rode out from the bone-white keep, the queen's soldiers felt their courage failing." —Krinnea, *Siege of the Bone Spire*

Artist: Karl Kopinski

[jasper-the-menace]

Satoru Umezawa ducked behind a corner, holding his breath until he was certain the compleated Reckoners had continued past his hiding place. Once the only thing he heard around him was his own beating heart, he let out a long sigh. The Phyrexian invasion was taking its toll on the plane, especially in Towashi, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up his hit-and-run tactics. His right ankle was making its displeasure known, so he shifted his weight over to his left leg.

All over the city – no, the plane – people were still fighting the invaders and their compleated friends and family. Greasefang and her Okiba Reckoners had taken point as the main defenders once the Imperials fell, and the Mukotai and Dokuchi Reckoners were teaming up with the Futurists to slip past enemy lines and rescue those that they could. The Hyozan Reckoners... Satoru didn’t know how many of his Reckoners were still in their right minds.

He took a deep breath and darted back through the streets of Towashi, striking Phyrexians as he passed to draw them away from others fighting for the sake of Kamigawa. Keep moving, don’t stop, don’t let them corner you. This was how Satoru had lived this long, so he stuck to that theory until he couldn’t force himself to keep moving any longer.

Satoru pressed his back to the outer wall of one of the few buildings in Towashi not overtaken by metal and raised his sword, trying to catch his breath and count the Phyrexians closing in on him at the same time. A glance upwards revealed more Phyrexians waiting on the nearby rooftops.

One of the compleated Kamigawans, once a Mukotai Reckoner based on what few tattoos remained on what was once skin, stepped forward to fight Satoru. Satoru raised his sword, bracing himself for the worst.

A roar echoed out, and a spirit in the form of a dragon plowed through the Phyrexians surrounding Satoru. An akki in pieced-together samurai armor darted past the Phyrexians. Another dragon spirit burst forth from the akki’s lightning-cloaked sword, latching its maw around the Phyrexian Reckoner’s arm and tearing it and the sword from the monster’s grip.

Satoru lunged, his tattoos flaring to life, and drove his blade into the throat of the former Reckoner. He followed the body down to the ground and tore his blade sideways through the metal and flesh. The akki summoned several more dragon spirits from the lightning of his blade, sending them after more of the Phyrexians, and stopped by Satoru.

“All good?” the akki asked, perhaps a little louder than he needed to.

“I am now. Thank you for the save.” Satoru straightened up and rolled his right shoulder. “I am Satoru Umezawa.”

“Goro-Goro, disciple of Ryusei!” Goro-Goro raised his sword, and the dragon spirits circled around the two as the Phyrexians were sent running.

Ryusei. The previous incarnation of Atsushi, if Satoru was remembering right. Perhaps the akki still called the dragons by the names of their previous incarnations? Whatever the case may be, Satoru knew better than to turn down help, regardless of how strange that help was. “Shall we continue bringing the fight to them?” Satoru offered. Goro-Goro nodded excitedly, raising his sword. The dragon spirits shot off after the retreating Phyrexians.

Satoru felt himself grin as he and Goro-Goro followed them. Maybe, just maybe, Kamigawa stood a chance of surviving this.

[phyrexian-lesbian]

i’d say sidar jabari of zhalfir hits all three obscura colours pretty damn well imo.

"As I explained in the episode, it’s hard for every multicolor card to mechanically represent every color." I realize not every card needs to follow the rule, but that wasn't my question. My question was whether you would agree that this card doesn't follow the rule. That said, I did feel that since there were few actual multicolor cards in KTK, that you could have done better than this. Not every multicolor card needs to follow the rule, but was it so hard to make 4 rare Jeskai cards that did?

The card does not mechanically represent all three colors. It is quite hard to make elegant three-color cards that strongly hit all three colors.

[magicwithclass]

28 Asmira, holy avenger and I have more somewhere. I think this card is criminally underrated and overlooked. Did you know Asmira is the top commander for selesyna aristocrat decks on edhrec? That alone should make you stop and wonder if asmira is worth picking up a couple of copies. Green/white aristocrats is a functional yet underpowered deck that let's you use a lot of cards that aren't seen in other more generic decks. Selesyna aristocrats is just not a deck you see every day but if you look at some of the deck lists online then it as a unique more budget build if you are looking for some rarely done themes. It isn't even that unplayable as a commander for the theme as the ability on Asmira is not limited to once per turn. It is annoying that the counters enter the battlefield all at once and not until end of turn but at least it triggers on the end step of every turn. Flying for invasion is also thankfully included as I want my commander to get through if I am making it really big. I wonder how many people have won with commander damage using Asmira as the commander? Maybe you can join those illustrious ranks? Selesyna is also the color combintion that synergies most with +1 +1 so maybe that can be a subtheme in the deck. I was surprised that this card was almost 30 dollars in September 2020. This was right before all the buyouts so this could have been one of the first buyouts that led to the spikes in old school mtg in 2021. I can see why this card was one of the first cards targeted. It can be your commander and it is one of the few two color commanders on the reserved list. The fact that it is almost playable even now and can lead a popular deck strategy in aristocrats in an unusual color combination contribute to this card's spikes. The spike in 2020 was short lived and I would love to learn why the attempt failed but the card rebounded in 2021 when the entire reserved list basically climbed. The card remains at less than 2 dollars but if selesyna aristocrats ever becomes a theme or gets a commander precon or even gets another playable commander then this card may start rising in price again. If you can get a near mint copy for under a dollar I would say that there are worse deals and greater risks. While this card may never return to its insane highs, the future is unknowable. In the story, Asmira was a leader during the mirage and visions eras. She had visions and could most clearly interpret teferi's aid. She has not been seen or referenced much in recent mtg lore but now that zhalfir is its own plane maybe a visit to zhalfir will show asmira's fate.

[magicmalcolm]

Adeline, Resplendent Cathar

[the-etali-review]

EMN #0006: Emrakul, the Promised End

Synergy: 2/5 for being big as hell. God she's so beautiful.

Versatility: 2/5, big beater, probably lets you kill someone with the cast trigger.

EP: 1/5. It doesn't draw cards, make mana, have haste, or make Etali copies.

Efficiency: Really hard to judge. Less mana than mindslaver usually, but comes with a body. Tentatively 3/5, but this effect is super rare.

Total: 8/20. Just kind of meh. If I want a 13/13 that's hard to remove, I can just flip Etali and attach a sword to her. And the mindslaver effect just isn't particularly helpful in this deck, as we're stealing our opponents' stuff already, and screwing someone over by messing with their board is just not on theme or on strategy for us.

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React to You Pining for Them

Summary: POV Lads men wake up in your body, feeling your emotions. And the get to suffer MWAHAHAHAHHA

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: angst (only Zayne gets a pass)

AN: hmm I don't think I did the concept justice but I will return to it

(I do not own these characters + spoilers ahead)

Rafayel:

He has felt it every time. Every single time he brings up his pain, his years spent waiting for you, your abandonment of him, he sees the same pain flicker in your eyes.

Even when you remain unaware of the past, he sees it.

But for the first time, he feels it.

He does not know what timeline this is. Only that he watches himself lying on a bed, next to you.

Your hand, intertwined with his.

"Things will get difficult, and you may want to give up on me, Rafayel," your fingers ghost over his cheek. "Forgive me for bringing you into this trouble. For dragging you into my fate."

Words are not spoken aloud, yet he hears them ring in your mind.

"Forgive me," you whisper into the night. "What this love will cost us… might break your heart."

He watches as you lean over and press a kiss to his forehead.

And then, with a shaking breath, you utter the last of your fading words:

"Should the burden come to weigh on you… let go of this bond and return home."

Rafayel wakes to a thundering sky and rising tides, as if the world itself had shared the same dream.

Xavier:

He watches you stare into the sky.

"Return home, my liege," you whisper, fingers clutched tightly. "Your kingdom, your throne awaits you."

You fold your hands and pray to the stars. And Xavier feels it, the thrum of your power resonating through his heart.

Then, your hand tightens around your sword.

"You should not have bothered, my prince." Your voice is steady, but beneath it lies something fragile. "It was my fate to become the fuel for this world. You should have let fate play its part."

Somehow, you already know the secret he has desperately hidden from you.

"They say the only way to make this right is by giving away what always belonged to the world." Your hand rests over your heart. "Would it bring you back?"

Xavier reels at your thoughts.

"No!" he screams, the sound swallowed by the void. "You must not! There has to be another way!"

But you do not hear him.

You gaze into the mirror, addressing no one and yet, somehow, addressing him.

"If this is a farewell, then it is a poor one, my liege."

Then, finally, your voice softens.

"I hope this brings you back, my prince." You speak to him directly now. "Wherever you are, I hope this end grants me the wish to have you return to Philos."

Zayne:

"He never eats on time!"

The thought rings out loud, startling Zayne.

He watches you march toward him, and takes a moment to process where he is.

Pale. Tired. Are those acne? Has he really been living off vending machine junk?

A rapid-fire string of thoughts follows.

He hears your frustration, your worry, and then he sees it.

The other Zayne, a version of himself, is yanked away from his desk by you.

Were you always this perceptive? How had he never noticed the concern in your eyes?

"Treat me to a second breakfast."

The command is uncompromising. He watches as you march toward his car, not even waiting for a response.

And he sees himself follow.

Or rather, being dragged.

Then, in the rumbling car, he watches as you drive.

And just as you turn to check on him, he sees himself, fast asleep.

With a maneuver that seems life-threatening, you somehow manage to pull a blanket over him, while still driving.

"Foreseer my ass," you scoff.

Your words leave him scrambling before he can even realize them, jolting him awake.

He blinks, now fully alert, staring straight at you. Back in his body.

Sylus:

Despair. Guilt. Unrelenting heartache.

He sees himself fallen at your feet.

And then, he sees your fall.

On your knees, you pull him close, holding him tight, and for the first time, he feels the weight of your helplessness.

"There is no forgiveness," you whisper.

And he realizes—you are alone.

That back then, in that abyss of loss, you were always alone. Unlike him, you never had the hope of return.

Bearing the burden of right and wrong, you were alone in your doom.

He buckles under the weight of it. This grief, he knows it well. He has felt a fragment of it.

But even then, he had known you would return.

But you?

For you, there was nothing.

Nothing but the void of loss.

"It will be alright," he whispers, but his voice is frail, failing to comfort you.

"I will return to you. I am not cross with you. I still love you." He repeats until all but the echo of his voice remains.

Caleb:

He wakes to fire.

The burning home.

The one that became both nightmare and reality.

Flames devour everything, the heat suffocating, the smoke curling into the sky.

Then, he sees you.

You scrape against the concrete, pulling yourself forward when your body refuses to move.

Your fingers tighten around his locket, and he feels the stab of pain pierce your heart.

"Caleb!" you call weakly, voice cracking, gathering what little strength you have left to scream louder.

You drag yourself forward, until your arms give out.

He sees your skin peeling against the jagged ground. Your blistered nail beds. The blood seeping from fingers that have already lost their nails beneath the heat and debris.

Yet, you keep moving.

"Stop!" he wants to scream. He wills himself to close his eyes, to escape this vision, but it grips him, holds him hostage.

And in this moment of agony, he wants to stop you, wants to pull you away from the fire, but he fails.

He is nothing more than a spectator to your desperate cries.

To your pleas for him and Grandma.

"I am sorry," he begs.

He had let you suffer alone in hopeless grief, had left you to rot in sorrow.

And perhaps this vision, this endless, searing nightmare, was his penance.

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Norn's Seedcore by Alexander Forssberg

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Massacre Wurm

Artist: Jason Chan TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[mtg-art-daily]

Excise the Imperfect

"Riddles are but petty diversions. Phyrexia is the only truth."

Artist: Denis Zhbankov

[biteofcherry]

In your peripheral vision, you see the other women in line trembling. Some cry quietly, and some try to brave through it. Some are quite flirtatious with their smiles and cute pouts.

Perhaps they're the smartest of them all, playing to the new fate instead of showing weakness, so the sharks won't rip them to pieces.

Most of them are young and you know what that means. Regardless of how the new regime tries to sell it.

They're ripe for the picking.

Brave soldiers and other useful cogs in the machine need to be rewarded. With wives. Or playthings.

It's heartbreaking to witness. Repulsive.

What the hell you're doing here, is the biggest mystery, though.

You and a few other women, who are past the typically desired age of below the point when the brain is fully formed. Or at least under thirty years old.

As you study the proceedings, forcing yourself to just stay still and survive, you quickly find the answer to your question.

A small team clad in dark navy combat suits, sans weapons and tactical gear, are marching down that line. Two men and a woman, who's probably supposed to put you all at ease. She's the one who decides if a woman is lead on the left side - where all those young, beautiful women are directed; or to the right.

As you notice, when it comes to "older" women, she studies not only their looks (those she briefly glances over) but reads files on the sleek pad in her hands. Then either points to the right, or have the soldiers escort them out.

To freedom, you hope, since you didn't hear any gunshots or dreadful ghost stories upon completely missing women.

Considering your own looks, your age and the fact you had zero influential connections, nor do you come from a wealthy family, your certainty to be released grew.

Seriously, there is nothing they could be interested in when it comes to you.

When it's your turn, the woman gives you a glance over.

You expected a quick, bored one, like with so many others. Unexpectedly, her gaze slowly drags up back to your face.

She tilts her head to the side, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

"You're not scared." She states.

"It would be stupid of me to not be scared." You reply steadily. "This summoning was sudden and nothing has been explained."

"And yet your breathing is regular, pulse doesn't appear quickened, you're not shaking like a leaf." Even if you despise the woman for being a part of this dark command, you have to admit she's perceptive.

A tiny sigh escapes your lips, clearly one of annoyance, though you hope it won't get you killed on the spot.

"It's obvious you're targeting women who are useful," you say, meeting her gaze. "Either in their beauty, youth and fertility-promising hips, or in their connections, wealth, or potential to bring political power."

"Since I fall in neither of those categories, I simply assume I'll be released back into my boring life."

Sometimes, it truly is a blessing to not stand out and be just an average woman.

The woman stares at you for a long, silent moment, before her mouth twitches in an amused smile.

She brings her wrist to her lips and says into the tiny, unnoticeable intercom:

"I've got someone you should meet."

You frown at that, suddenly feeling a spike of unease.

Would they punish you in some way just because you didn't shake in fear?

The woman doesn't point at you to move neither left nor right. She keeps you in place. But she orders one of the men accompanying her to bring your things, which have been taken from you when you were all guided into the big hall.

Just your handbag and within it your phone.

A few moments later, the entrance to the hall opens and an imposing silhouette strides in.

Breaths all around are taken in hitched, panicked rushes. Most of the women recognize the infamous leader, who brought the havoc and change that rocked your world.

He moves in a fluid prowl. His eyes quickly scans the area to settle on the woman who has to be within his close inner circle if she is allowed to address him by his name.

From her, his gaze shifts to you, and that's when fear switches on all of your survival instincts, flooding your body with adrenaline and your head with voices screaming at you to either run or play dead.

The woman gives him the pad, undoubtedly with your personal data on it. Her smirk isn't cruel, rather amused, as she explains why you're so interesting.

"Smart girl, figured out the workings. Held my gaze without flinching, too."

"Waiting for a gold star for understanding the basics of politics?" The man snorts, browsing through your file.

"A simple goodbye, go home, would suffice." It slips out of your mouth before you're able to stop yourself.

His eyes lift up from the pad. Crystalline blue of his irises slides you open like a scalpel.

"Her phone." He gives a short comman without taking his eyes off you.

The intensity of his gaze makes you gulp. A small betrayal of nerves that he notices instantly. A predator's triumph glinting in his eyes.

You would be really stupid not to fear him.

For physical aspect alone. He's much bigger. Broad and heavy. It would be no hardship for him to overpower you.

"Intel files are one thing," he says, skimming his fingers over your smartphone and easily bypassing all security.

"Apps, browsing history, and private folders, provide the juiciest truths."

Corners of his mouth twitch as he notices your pupils widening.

His smirk stretches into a wolfish grin when he looks down at the phone in his hand and opens one particular private folder.

Somehow, you know exactly which one.

With photos of you that shouldn't be seen by anyone other than you, or a man who you wanted to see you naked.

He is not that man.

Embarrassment fills you in a scorching wave, but you grit your teeth in hopes to not show how much you want to grab your phone back and hide.

You're not ashamed of those pictures. It's just that they are intimate and shouldn't be seen by someone like the monster in front of you.

"There are no juicy truths," you grit out. "Some risky selfies are the staple folder of ninety percent phone users."

"Ah, but are they smart enough to not only figure out the system here, but in what capacity to show me defiance without crossing the line that could cost you your life?"

He looks up at you again, with hungry interest and growing amusement.

"Don't sell yourself short. And tell me- are you, really?"

Before you ask what he means, he lifts your phone up, showing you the photo currently on the screen.

Not even the most scandalous. You with slightly tousled hair, cheekily smiling, with the tip of your tongue peeking out. And wearing a tight crop top with bold, pink letters.

Brat.

You know, you just know that you should drop your gaze and let the trembling part of you out on the surface. That would undoubtedly push you back into the bag of boring, mundane lot. Lose his attention.

That self-preservation instinct he claims you have doesn't react fast enough, though.

Forcing your lips into a tight smile, you reply in a stupidly challenging tone:

"I'm a fucking delight."

Something flashes in those blue eyes. Danger and joy.

Slowly, he slips your phone into his own pocket.

As his eyes hold you gaze captive, your heart hammers to the staccato of doom approaching you.

"Take her to my penthouse." He commands, not raking his eyes of you.

He drinks up each flicker in your eyes and the parting of your lips as his intent sinks in.

You won't be returning to your home.

"Assign someone to transfer her belongings and oversee the bureaucratic procedures. They have a week to prepare everything."

Your fingers twitch at your sides helplessly as he takes a step towards you. Then another, until he's fully looming over.

A single finger curls under your chin, tilting your face up.

"You're going to be my delight."

He says it almost softly, but it still cuts through you like a heavy guillotine.

" 'Til death do us part, brat."

_______________________________

Who is he?

[relevant-mtg-cards]

you need variance tbh. you can't have multiversal threat after multiversal threat, or things get stale pretty quick. on the other hand having only small scale/personal stakes leads to the overall story feeling much smaller and self contained. balance allows people to readjust after the next big thing, while allowing the tension to build up to a larger threat

A recent asker mentioned that they enjoyed Aetherdrift having more personal and less multiversal stakes. I want to second that stance and say that I find personal stakes to be more compelling than larger stakes. Just my two cents, of course

How do others feel?

[magicwithclass]

Reserved List History

[blasphemousclaw]

OK so a million years ago I made a post analyzing all the placements of the abductor virgin enemies throughout the game, and I came to the conclusion that they’re very deliberately placed as a gesture of protection from Rykard to his family members: there are two at Raya Lucaria, where his mother resides, one on the ramparts of Caria Manor, where his sister lays low, and one at Redmane Castle, where his brother commanded his army. But there isn’t just one abductor virgin in Caelid, there is also an entire cave filled with broken pieces of them — the Abandoned Cave.

The cave lies on the north cliff edge of the Swamp of Aeonia, where Malenia fought Radahn and unleashed the Scarlet Rot upon Caelid. There’s a lone abductor virgin patrolling the cliff opposite the cave entrance that looks to have killed several of the giant dogs:

The cave has some poisony mushroom guy enemies, those annoying flowers, and the boss of the cave is the Cleanrot Knight duo... all enemies that thrive in the rot. The cave itself is a bubbling swamp of scarlet rot, and there are broken abductor virgins absolutely everywhere.

The conclusion I came to about this cave in my post was that this army of abductor virgins was being stored inside, when the Scarlet Aeonia bloomed and flooded the cave with rot so violently that it destroyed all of the abductors. Why were they there in the first place? Since the abductors are specifically found at the residences of Rykard’s mother, sister, and brother (and not at the residences of any of his half/step-siblings), and since there is already one abductor at Redmane Castle, and since Rykard seems to have been fond of Radahn, hanging a portrait of him above his fireplace, the most sensible conclusion is that these abductor virgins were also meant for Radahn.

BUT, what was always mysterious to me was why Rykard would feel the need to give Radahn an entire army of abductor virgins. Rennala only gets two, and Ranni only gets one. What about Radahn’s situation would necessitate a whole army? My answer to this question had been kind of a handwavey “well, he’s fighting an offensive war so he’d need more weapons,” and that still could be true but I always felt like there might be a better explanation. WELL, with the revelations about Radahn from the DLC, I think I have one!

From the DLC, we learn that Radahn made a vow with Miquella, and his half of the vow was that he’d agree to be Miquella’s consort. But during the Shattering, it seems to me that things went awry: Malenia traveled across the entire continent just to kill Radahn at Miquella’s behest, so that he might be revived as Miquella’s consort... but Radahn didn’t die, and his great rune “burns, to resist the encroachment of the scarlet rot” to this day. The armies of both demigods can be found endlessly fighting each other as spirits in the War-Dead catacombs. This leads me to believe that Radahn was not prepared to die for Miquella’s sake here, he and his Redmanes fought Malenia and her Cleanrots to win. I think this conflict might’ve happened because during the Shattering, Radahn decided to pursue his own ends — perhaps influenced by his great rune’s “mad taint” — and became either unfaithful or simply a disappointment to Miquella. So Miquella sends Malenia to kill Radahn, and he later revives his soul, but specifically as the youthful version of Radahn whom he admired, not the mature Radahn of the Shattering.

Miquella’s version of Radahn (Radahn in his youth) vs. Rykard’s version of Radahn (a mature Radahn: face is more deeply lined, no braids, he’s wearing the armor style we see Starscourge Radahn wearing in-game and not the “Young Lion” armor)

While on her way to Caelid, Malenia would have had to march through Altus, past Mt. Gelmir. What if Rykard somehow discovered Malenia’s intentions before she reached Caelid? And he panicked, sending his brother a whole army of his war machines in order to keep him safe when he himself could not abandon his Manor? But Radahn refused to use them to protect himself, because above all he values honor on the battlefield and depends on his own strength to see himself through, and hiding behind machines in battle would be dishonorable and cowardly? So the army of abductor virgins sits unused in an abandoned Caelid cave, until Radahn and Malenia fight to a standstill, and the scarlet rot blooms, flooding the cave and destroying the army within? I think the DLC revelations slot into my previous speculations pretty nicely… and if Rykard had not yet fed himself to the serpent by the time Malenia fought Radahn, well, this would certainly give him another good reason to want to destroy the very system of the gods, wouldn’t it?