My submission for the contest regarding the deck posted below. Please check it out and even submit your own if you want to.deck-large:Most entertaining deck
Part OneThe sun beat down on
Jace Beleren like the
Wrath of God itself was against him. He stopped to rest, taking out his
Adventuring Gear and sloshing a bit of water in his mouth. He gathered his mana and created a
Protective Bubble around himself to ward off the power of the sun that threatened to overpower him with its scalding heat. He had been walking in this
Wasteland for days on end with no sign of the city of
Karakas that he sought for his quest.
Coming over the edge of a gigantic sand dune, his jaw dropped in astonishment. The city spanned across all of his sight. With newfound determination, he started down the sand dune towards the city.
He panted heavily, attempting to get some air into his lungs, but the sand buffeted him. The Sandstorm had came out of nowhere, screaming like a Banshee bent on destruction. He pulled himself slowly, agonizingly, into a ruined building in a small valley in the city and pulled his cloak over himself.
The Sandstorm had acted like a Mana Short, almost completely draining his mana. He looked out of his Sheltered Valley and his face became grim when he saw a Cyclone tearing through the city, destroying everything in its path. When a hand grabbed his arm, he spun around, only to see the blunt end of a club swinging towards him. It impacted heavily with his skull and his world went black.
He awoke suddenly, with a throbbing pain in the back of his skull. He realized he was in a tent, and attempted to get up quickly until the wave of pain that washed over him forced him to flatten himself again. A man entered the tent in a golden fez and refined clothes. He introduced himself as King Suleiman and asked what a lone traveler was doing in this inhospitable land.
In pain, Jace answered "I was looking for an artifact in the city of Karakas and was caught in a Sandstorm that appeared suddenly."
"That explains much, though it does not explain your strange clothes", the king said with a questioning look on his face.
"I am from a foreign land very far from here," Jace said, not wanting to reveal his true origins.
"I think you are from a land much farther than I think," said Suleiman, reading his thoughts exactly, "That does not provide an explanation for why you can speak our language, but no matter."
As the king left the tent, Jace mentally kicked himself; he had forgotten that he had the ability to speak languages due to his Planeswalker Spark. He slowly fell into a fitful sleep, realizing he needed to recharge his mana in case anything happened.
He awoke to the sound of horses and men laughing and talking. He slowly got up, his head still throbbing, and exited the tent. He was approached by a Desert Nomad telling him that King Suleiman was on a small journey to a neighboring land. He looked around and saw crowds of nomads conversing and glancing at him suspiciously. The nomad introduced himself as Ali from Cairo and said he would be Jace's guide. Jace, feeling that this man could be trusted, nodded in agreement.
He looked around and noticed they were in an Oasis surrounded by lush trees. He wondered how a Desert could hold a fountain of beauty such as this. He was glancing around, observing the nomads, until a man, bloodied and ragged, ran to the center of the Oasis and yelled, "King Suleiman has been captured!" All conversation died as the crowd turned towards the man.
Part TwoJace ran towards the man, but the crowd was tightening and he was continuously pushed back by the people flooding towards the man in seek of answers. Jace realized that he had no choice if he were to find out what happened and commanded his mana to surge up and obey his will. He focused it into a swirl and, condensing it invisibly, released it from his body in a single
Mana Flare that rippled across the crowd with the sound of a
Thunderclap and silenced the entire town.
The crowd turned to him with awe and a man pushed through the crowd to stand in front of him. Ali from Cairo looked at him incredulously and in a hushed voice asked, "Was that you, my friend?" Jace, wanting answers, focused his mana under his body and lifted himself into the air. The crowd collectively gasped.
In a powerful tone, Jace shouted "What happened to Suleiman?"
The man who had returned, barely able to stand, looked up at Jace and asked, "Who are you?" in a shaky voice. Jace knew it was time to reveal his secret because otherwise he would not be able to get the cooperation of the village.
Reluctantly, Jace said, "I am a planeswalker. I have the ability to walk across the various planes of the multiverse, and I have seen things that would both horrify and delight you. What you must answer is this: Who took King Suleiman and where did they take him?"
The messenger hushed, "It was El-Hajjaj who took him..."
The crowd turned morose and some even started to back away.
Jace looked around and said to the people around him, "Look at yourselves. Your king is captured and you all stand there like you have no will to return him to his place on the throne. Is this the extent of your love for him?"
A man stood up and walked to the feet of Jace and knelt, his hands clasped in prayer.
Jace continued, "Will you let that man, whoever he is, to abduct your king and not receive retribution? If I was one of you, I would be up in arms. That man, your king, saved me from the sandstorm. In the city of death, Karakas itself, I was hiding in a building when a strong hand grasped my arm. I turned around, and before I was knocked unconscious, I saw his face. The face of your king. I questioned this while I was resting and realized that he knocked me out to save me. If I had denied him, being suspicious, I would most likely have died in that storm."
More and more people began to kneel at the ground under Jace's feet, also clasping their hands in a prayer.
Still Jace paid no heed and did not stop speaking to the crowd with a chord of authority attuned to his voice, "He is your king! Why do you not raise your arms and declare war upon that wretched man that has incurred your wrath!?"
Unbeknownst to Jace, the entire square had knelt at his feet, silently praying to the God that had brought them this savior in the form of an outsider.
In finality, he shouted, a note of emotion embedded deep in his throat, "We must save King Suleiman because you, we, are his people!"
Jace looked up, and saw the congregation of soldiers, all kneeling in meditation, rise at once.
With Fervor he never knew he possessed, he threw his fist in the air and shouted, "This will not be a battle; this will be a war!"
He saw a thousand fists raise to the sun at once, and one thousand voices shouted, "For our king!"
Part ThreeThe riders saddled up with somber faces. They knew this battle would be harsh and that many would not survive but their king needed them. They could not abandon him to that defiled ruler and wait to receive his body in a casket. The
Moorish Cavalry got in formation, with Jace at the lead. It was unspoken that he should lead their charge. Besides commanding unknown power, he also had the respect of every Desert Nomad he led.
Ali from Cairo rode to his right, looking very much like a warrior.
Each man in the cavalry carried a wicked Dancing Scimitar so that even if he was disarmed, the blade would continue to fight his enemy. This held a distinct advantage against Efreets and Djinn, which they would be fighting as El-Hajjaj surely had many under his power. They rode from dawn until dusk, with each man eating meals while riding.
When they finally dismounted, everyone was sore. Even the experienced riders had not ridden so hard for years. Jace limped off of the horse, having no feeling in his legs. A tent for him was quickly set up and when he went to question the men why they did it, he was stopped by Ali. Ali whispered to him, "Do not stop them; it is a sign of respect."
Jace murmured, "But can I not put up my own tent?"
"It is a sign of respect, as I said. You are our hope, and hopefully you live up to that expectation," Ali commented.
Jace felt a bit less hopeful after the man left. He realized what he had on his shoulders. He had a thousand lives under his command that could be lost if he failed. He fell asleep with this uplifting thought.
When he woke, the last of the tents were being picked up. As he left his, it was packed into a bag. He walked over to his horse and stretched his body for the long ride ahead. He hopped on his horse and led the Moorish Cavalry across the rest of the Desert they needed to cross.
As they came to the end of the valley, Jace turned. The fortress where Suleiman was being kept was right over the hill. He looked at the troops one by one. He looked at them not as strangers, but as his comrades in war.
He cleared his voice, "If any of you would like to leave now, you may do so. You will not be treated badly for it."
He watched as the army stood their ground despite what they would face. He raised his arm in a gesture of respect and turned his horse.
They were camped right above the valley that night; Jace and Ali were discussing battle plans with the most senior of riders and warriors. It was decided that the best way of attack was a charge at dawn, when they would be least expected. As the meeting adjourned, the senior members expressed their gratitude to Jace for his selfless actions on behalf of their king.
Jace brushed off their praise and continued to think about the coming battle. Many lives would be lost in this fight and people he spoke to just that morn would not be riding home with them. This weighing heavily on his mind, Jace rolled his blanket out and laid down to sleep.
Jace heard the flap to his tent lightly open. Instantly he was awake, though keeping his eyes closed. He heard the gentle footsteps of the assassin slowly making their way to his bed. When he calculated that the assassin was standing right over him, he quickly sent out a Thoughtflare to the assassin's mind.
He heard a surprised grunt and immediately lashed out with his fist, catching the man in the side of the face. As Jace rose, the man stumbled back out of the tent. He noticed that the man dropped his Silver-Inlaid Dagger on the ground. Jace picked this up, and running out of the tent while rearing back with all of his might, he threw the dagger, spinning it end over end in a wide arc.
The assassin ran over the rough terrain, looking back right at the last moment to see the dagger embed itself in his heart. Giving a heaving breath, he crumpled to the ground as Jace ran towards him. Jace reached him, and noticing his mask, stopped.
"So a Royal Assassin was in the camp after all..." Ali said slowly, letting the meaning hang.
"Are you saying that we have been infiltrated by El-Hajjaj already?" Jace implored.
"I'm afraid so..." Ali said as he walked back to his tent, "Get some rest, you will need it for the coming battle."
Jace, laying on his blanket, felt like the last thing he should do is rest, but reluctantly he fell into a fitful sleep.
Part FourJace awoke to the sun shining through his tent flap. He stretched and let out a groan. Sleeping on sand seemed like it would be soft, but it ended up being as hard as a rock.
He donned his cloak and exited his tent to find the camp as busy as a Wirefly Hive in mating season. Arms and armor were being donned, as the army prepared to march upon that darkened fortress. Jace noticed the army practicing their fighting formations and appreciated the form and finesse of the swordsmen. He realized that they had a fighting chance, even against the army of djinn and efreets they would be facing.
Jace stood on a crate in the center of the army, gazing out upon the combined might of the army that would be fighting with him. He cleared his throat and began to speak.
"We are all here to fight and to die if necessary. Your comrades are all that stand behind you. At the end of the day, when this battle is done and the dust settles, will you be known for your prowess? I do not know the answer to that question. But I do know that this will be told for generations to come."
The crowd gave out an enthusiastic cheer and raised their weapons. Jace silenced them with a raised hand.
"This will be the fight of your life. You are not fighting against men like yourself. You will be fighting creatures with unearthly powers. But they can be killed, just like men. You must remember this, because when you lose hope, you cannot stop fighting. For when we stop fighting, that is the moment we lose."
The men nodded, sobered, and all stared at Jace with hardened eyes.
"But have no fear, for I know this can be done. We have the power to save our king. And once this is done, we will parade home with the bloody head of El-Hajjaj on a pike!"
At this last statement, every weapon was raised simultaneously. Jace swore he could see a twinkle in the eyes of every warrior gathered around him. He stepped down from the crate among cheers and nods of encouragement.
He was suddenly exhausted. He went back to his tent to take a slight rest before the army was to march upon the ruined city. He thought about his entire journey here, and how it had been so short, but affected his life so much. King Suleiman had such a profound effect on Jace, it seemed like Jace was drawn to him by some unknown force.
Jace walked slowly to the head of the gathered army, where an Ebony Horse greeted him with a toss of its head. Ali from Cairo said to him when he left that this was the finest horse that the tribe owned. Running his hand over its muscles, Jace thought that this perhaps could be the finest horse that existed on this world. He put his foot on the stirrup and hopped lithely onto its back. It grunted, acknowledging his presence on as the rider that would lead it into battle.
Jace turned towards the fortress, and raised his hand slowly to tell the army he would give the command soon. He bunched it into a fist and as he yelled "To war!", he spurred his horse to move.
With a powerful rush of energy his horse took off like a rocket down the hill. A battle cry erupted from the men behind him as the collective might of a thousand surged down the hill to fulfill their loyalty to their ruler.
Grimly, Jace muttered "Here it begins...", as his horse pounded towards the fortress of death.
Part FiveThe horses charged with their riders of fiery heart. As the fortress grew closer, they noticed many djinn and efreet waiting for them. The men roared with renewed vigor and urged their horses to go faster. The riders broke upon the creatures like
Rolling Thunder breaks upon the sky. The combat was chaos incarnate as horses screamed, rearing back when their riders fell.
Jace summoned the power he held and focused it in his mind. As a Juzam Djinn charged Jace, he opened his eyes, shining a pure blue, and slammed his fist in its direction. He felt Reality Ripple as the djinn was flung into the Maelstrom Nexus from existence.
To Jace, the battle was a blur; he fought like a demon and had no mercy for the enemies that crossed his path. He deliberately lowered his guard so that a Mijae Djinn would attack him and when it did, he wished it gone with a Banishing Knack that left only powder as proof of the creature that once was intent to kill him. He fought his way slowly through the creatures, like struggling against a wave, until he found himself at the foot of the fortress.
He noticed that the door to the fortress was ajar and he slowly stepped in. As he walked through the labyrinthine passages, he noted the rough designs on the walls. They had a crude, dark quality to them and Jace speculated about their origins. Jace realized suddenly that he could not see at all and had been probing the darkness with his mind unconsciously to find his way.
He focused and willed his mind to go farther into the darkness. As his consciousness expanded, he began to feel the world around him. From the light skitter of Ravenous Rats to the the chittering of a Plague Beetle in the dirt, Jace felt that everything was connected in his mind. He saw light ahead in his mind, and started walking faster. He brought his focus back to his body and stepped into the light.
He blinked his eyes and stepped to the center of the room. He noticed the light coming from a carved shaft in the ceiling. The shaft was one of the shapes that he saw on the walls. The shapes seemed so familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.
He continued to inspect the room, he felt air coming from somewhere in the room and slowly walked around trying to trace the source. He decided to see if there were any illusions in the room and so he invoked his countermagic and filled the room with it.
When he opened his eyes, he noticed that a corridor had appeared. He realized an Illusionary Wall must have been hiding it, and he started down the dark hallway. After walking for what seemed like ages, he came to a door. He noticed the door was covered with the same symbols, but all in red. They had a sickly sweet smell and he realized it was all drawn in blood. Something in his mind clicked, and he had the answer.
When he realized what the shapes were, his eyes widened, and he ran down the corridor. All light vanished and Jace heard a voice say "You're too late..."
Part SixJace was thrown heavily to the floor. The darkness quickly flooded over him and cut off all escape. His body was pressed by the shadow until it was choked into oblivion.
Jace stood several feet away, with his arms crossed.
"You were said to have evil powers, but I now understand how and why," Jace spoke, eyes flowing a pure blue.
"So, the illusion planeswalker finally comes to my humble abode", El-Hajjaj chuckled, "I never thought I would have this honor."
"What have you done with the king?" Jace growled.
"Oh nothing too painful, only enough to make him tell me what he knew."
"You will be punished," Jace, raising his hands, shot a ball of pure blue mana.
The shadows shrunk and slid across the floor while reforming, taunting Jace. Jace knew that this fight would not be an easy one, so while he thought of a plan, he decided to buy some time.
Jace shot another ball of mana, and immediately turned and sprinted back towards the opened room he was in before the hallway. The shadows flowed after him, attempting to choke off all escape, but when they approached he threw up an illusion of himself that promptly turned and fired an illusionary bolt of mana. The shadow, as expected, dodged it and quickly stifled the copy Jace had created.
It quickly realized the trick, and renewed its assault on Jace, quickly catching up to him. Jace was tripped and fell, sliding on the moist, stone floor. As it prepared to strike, time seemed to slow, and Jace desperately thought for a way to escape. He was too close for illusion. Water had soaked through his glove, and he suddenly had the answer. The darkness, sharpened to a point, surged at Jace. He could do nothing but close his eyes and concentrate. As a final show of victory, El-Hajjaj cackled manically and drove the darkness straight into Jace.
The shadow stopped, quivering. It was pressed against Jace's skin, but it could not penetrate it. El-Hajjaj grunted in confusion, "What kind of trick is this?"
"This isn't a trick, this is just being resourceful," Jace grudgingly mumbled, "I noticed that water was leaking from all of your walls, therefore there must be a spring of water from underground."
"What of it?" El-Hajjaj croaked, still straining to injure Jace.
"Well, you know that blue mana deals with illusion, deceit and..."
El-Hajjaj gasped, "Impossible! You couldn't have harnessed the water in the walls and floors!"
Jace merely smiled, "Now I believe it is your turn to be on the defensive," as a surge of water exploded from the walls, floor and ceiling.
This surge buffeted the shadow, dragging it into the lit room. Jace flowed with the waves, not relenting, but not controlling. As the deluge died away, Jace stood over the shadow.
Jace, knowing he had won, raised his hand to deliver the finishing blow. Suddenly, El-Hajjaj lurched upwards, slamming a needle of shadow straight through Jace's torso. Jace's mouth opened wide, then he slowly fell to the ground.
Part SevenEl-Hajjaj threw his head back and began to laugh. He began stabbing the needle of darkness repeatedly into Jace's limp form. He continued to laugh and puncture the body but stopped when it shimmered and faded into mist.
El-Hajjaj could do nothing but stare at where Jace had fallen. Jace quietly whispered, "It was mist," into the ear of El-Hajjaj and felt satisfaction at the fear he saw.
He pressed his palm against the side of the man's head and fired a bolt of blue mana straight through the evil planeswalker's skull. He watched as the body slumped to the floor. He had nothing more to fear, as he had hit the cerebral nerve, which controlled mana.
He slowly turned and walked down the hallway that he had fled from. As he came to the door, he stopped and faced it. He whispered, "Kvyoto Malignus," and watched as the doors opened.
He walked to the altar, where King Suleiman lay, looking more dead than alive. His skin was shrunken and clung to his bones like a tight cover; his lips were chapped and bleeding. Worst of all his eyes, normally a deep brown, shone a dull gray. Jace gently touched the man's forehead, and was surprised to get a response.
King Suleiman turned to Jace and whispered something softly. Jace leaned in to hear and the king spoke again, "Ali must lead our people. He is the only one with the authority."
"Why Ali?"
The king, quickly running out of time, struggled to speak. He wheezed for several seconds, then spoke his last words, "He is my son. Please tell him I love him."
Jace was taken aback. He looked at King Suleiman for a sign of confirmation, but found that the king had passed on into the next life. Jace, feeling desolate, looked down at the floor until he noticed a shining object held in the king's fingers.
His jaw dropped as he recognized the Ring of Ma'ruf that sat in the king's limp hand. This was the artifact that he had been in search for when he first came to this world. He gently pried it from the king's hand and turned and left the fortress.
Ali had taken the news very hard, but a steely resolve took root upon his expression, and he had ventured into the fortress to retrieve the belongings of his father and grieve.
Jace, standing on the top of a sand dune, thought back to his younger years. He remembered those symbols and their significance to his life. He remembered how they had pursued him across the multiverse without relent.
The ring promised to change that; Jace knew that it held an untapped power to raze worlds. He pulled his cloak around him tighter, protecting himself from the desert winds, and spoke three words before vanishing into thin air, "Bolas shall pay."
FIN
