From Duskmantle, with Love
A glamorous mare swanned her way down the streets of Ravnica, reveling in her own grace and poise. Her alabaster coat caught the little light that made it through the constructed canyons, making her seem to glow from within. The silken pink locks on either end of her swayed hypnotically as she moved, leaving a trail of boggling onlookers in her wake, not all of them ponies. Eventually, she arrived at her destination, the Ismeri Library, one of the standouts of House Dimir's public face.
That the Tenth Guild even had a public face spoke volumes about what had happened since the fall of the Old Guildpact. No longer was Dimir a guild that skulked in the shadows, denying even its own existence. Now it was devoted not to concealing information but revealing it, an assembly of couriers, archivists, and investigators. Yes, that last one involved some shadow skulking, but entirely at the behest of others. Those who didn't want their secrets revealed could hire counterespionage specialists. And everyone knew the Dimir were about, so it wasn't like they could pull their old tricks even if they wanted to. Which they didn't. Really.
The unicorn couldn't completely stifle a throaty chuckle as she entered the library. If anything, allowing a bit of scrutiny allowed the Dimir to get away with more, so long as the occasional arrest kept the other guilds convinced that they were under control.
She broke her internal monologue to wave a hoof at a pale human seated at one of the reading tables near the entrance. "Dovri! Good morning!"
He looked up from his weighty tome and gave a small smile. "Fleur. Always good to see you. How's the family?"
"Oh, the same as always." Fleur rolled her eyes. "Ravenous. I swear, it feels like I'm the only one who even tries to put bread on the table."
Dovri nodded knowingly. "Ah, family. Can't live with them, can't afford that many assassinations."
"Too true. Have a nice day." With that, Fleur let the man go back to his book, while she made her way to the employees' lounge.
She hated the employees' lounge.
It wasn't that the few pieces of furniture made for ponies weren't built with her statuesque build in mind. It wasn't that the other librarians couldn't make a decent pot of coffee if their lives (or undeaths) depended on it. It wasn't even that she rarely had enough time to properly appreciate just how much she hated the place. No, Fleur's key gripe with with the employees' lounge was how her illusion was disrupted every time she entered.
Chrysalis sighed as her magic hiccuped under the room's security measures, black carapace replacing white hair. She removed her saddlebags and hung them on one of the skeletal hands that lined one wall of the room. It closed into a fist and would not open again for any but her. Macabre, but effective. She levitated a mug out of the sink and cleaned it out with a bit of toned-down death magic. She braced herself as her field took hold of the coffee pot, not least because the hot plate was Izzet-made and thus had a nonzero chance of exploding without warning. Thankfully, the worst thing that happened was the coffee itself, and Chrysalis briefly did away with her tongue before the brew did it for her.
A cup of caffeinated acid, a deep breath, and a recast disguise, and Fleur de Lis was ready for the day ahead. Thankfully, the dispel effect of the lounge only triggered on entering it, not leaving. She began taking reports from her swarm as she made her way to the front desk.
She couldn't help but glance at Dovri for a moment as her drones gave their status reports. The library didn't have anything so gauche as visible guards. Instead, telepaths like Dovri – which, needless to say, was no more his real name than Fleur de Lis was hers – rotated throughout the day, keeping a third eye on those who came and went. As he once told her, a stream of consciousness's undercurrents were made of half-formed word-images and sensory impressions, but surface thoughts were much more comprehensible, translated for the benefit of the conscious mind. Telepathic signals were even easier, the thoughts of one mind magically clarified so that another mind would be guaranteed to understand them.
At least, that was the case for most sapients, but changelings were different. The equinoid creatures had developed telepathy before true sapience. As such, a hive's psychic communication wasn't so much mind-to-mind as synapse-to-synapse; translated, yes, but into a form that was less intelligible to telepaths. Fleur and Dovri had both learned that early in her career, when an idle scan had left the human reeling.
Such psychic inscrutability was incredibly valuable for the guild of secrets. Szadek, Dimir's vampiric parun, had thought the love-eaters too valuable to risk any on the side of his enemies, and thus had dominated the hives for all of his millennia-spanning unlife. When his ghost was finally destroyed, the changelings found themselves independent after more than ten thousand years of control. They had stayed true to Dimir, knowing no other life.
One of the first free-born queens got tapped on the withers, breaking her introspective fugue. "Fleur? Hello? Come on, we've got a real situation here."
Fleur shook her head. "Huh?" It was one of her fellow librarians, Rislav, another human male barely out of his teens. He seemed distinctly uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. "What is it?"
"Someone wants to see you. Now."
The mare could think of two reasons for her coworker's discomfort, and the anxiety emanating from him was rather much for a full bladder. "VIP?"
"Very very much so."
"Who?"
"That would be me," answered a blue-skinned woman on the other end of the counter.
Fleur blinked. The emergence of the merfolk from Ravnica's buried oceans was an even more recent development than the changelings' liberation, so few could qualify for even one "very." The fish-head helmet narrowed that field to one possibility. "Prime Speaker Zegana?"
The Simic guildmistress's lips quirked into a thin, inscrutable grin. "Well, good to see some people know how to behave in a library. Is there somewhere where we could speak privately?"
Fleur pushed her confusion and shock onto some idle drones, along with some apologies. She needed to be focused, not flummoxed. "Certainly. Rislav, which reading rooms are available at the moment?"
"Huh?" Sadly, the human didn't have a hive mind through which he could export his discombobulation. "I, I, um..."
Merfolk and changeling shared a look, the sort that all women can, regardless of species, when men are being silly. Fleur tried again. "Is Reading Room Three currently free?"
Rislav perked up and grabbed at the conversational life preserver. "Y-yes!" A moment later, he drooped back down. "Er, at least, it should be."
"Well, if it isn't, I'm sure the occupant will be willing to make room for a guildmaster." Fleur made her way out from behind the front desk. "This way, Prime Speaker."
Reading Room Three was a cozy alcove with a quartet of comfortable chairs, several large cushions, and square tables light enough to reconfigure into a single surface or separate desks.
It was also laced with enough scrying sensors to count the hairs on a fly's eye, but that was only to be expected.
The two occupants sat on either side of one of the tables. "I am not angry, Miss de Lis," said Zegana. "I am, if anything, curious."
"Some would say that's more dangerous than anger among the Simic," Fleur noted.
The merwoman's expression betrayed nothing, but she couldn't hide the brief flash of mirth that came and went like a thunderbolt in her emotional aura. "Some, perhaps. Yourself?"
"Certainly not." Fleur smirked. "Not where one such as yourself could hear me, in any case."
"Hmm." Zegana stirred her tea. There had been a pot waiting for them, along with cups, saucers, and other sundries. Tea was always made available when very important persons showed up, no matter how unexpectedly. It was invariably better than the lounge coffee, but the Prime Speaker seemed unwilling to find out. An understandable precaution, really. Accepting Dimir refreshments was usually a good way to encounter all sorts of novel poisons.
Fleur drank hers as quickly as etiquette let her. She had no idea where they kept the stuff, and she would enjoy it while she had the chance. "How may I satisfy your curiosity, Your Primacy?"
"Zegana is fine. Recently, a gifted young biomancer violated one of the principle taboos of the Combine."
"Oh?
"She made use of cytoplasts." Zegana's gaze was firmly fixed on her teacup. "The strange thing is, every cytoplast on Ravnica should've died with Experiment Kraj. When Novijen awakened, every cytoplastic graft in the world was summoned to it. So how could a single unicorn have tracked down a substance whose synthesis has been forbidden for decades?"
"Seems to me like you should ask her."
"I did. Her answer was eminently logical: to find what should no longer exist, ask the ones who hid their own existence for so long."
"Ah." Fleur emptied her teacup. She had a hunch that she'd need it. "So you came to us."
"Indeed."
"Interesting that you came here and not the Public Offices. Officially, the Ismeri isn't affiliated with any guild."
Zegana rolled her eyes, but they never made contact with Fleur's. "It's a bit difficult to maintain such neutrality when all employees belong to a single guild."
Fleur shrugged. "Close enough for government work."
"In any case, Miss Heartstrings specifically mentioned asking a unicorn mare who worked here for aid."
"Did she?" The "unicorn" bit back a curse. She should've extracted the memories of her interactions with Lyra, not just obscured them. The self-loathing little mare must've tinkered with her own brain in some way that disrupted the mind magic.
"She did. Which, of course, leads me to you, Miss de Lis." Zegana pursed her fingers. "Our guilds have worked well together in the past. Embarrassingly so, one might say. I would ask for a peek behind the curtain, a chance to set an old wrong right."
Fleur hesitated and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "You do not understand what it is you ask for, Zegana. The Combine uses information. House Dimir is information. A 'peek behind the curtain,' as you call it, would be like you giving away your most promising krasis to a butcher."
The Prime Speaker sighed and rubbed her temples. By the time Fleur realized magic was at work, Zegana finally made eye contact. Her irises swam with color like soap film. "Miss de Lis – and I am well aware that that is not your real name – you do not understand what it is you deny me. Cytoplasts are a fossil technology, a relic of a paradigm we are well rid of. They are not a secret to keep or a treasure to horde. They are a menace that must be eliminated for the good of the world."
Fleur had braced her mental defenses through all of the little speech, only to realize there was no magical suggestion underlying the merwoman's words. Whatever spell Zegana had worked on her eyes was probably defensive, then. It could be a bluff, but calling it could leave the mare in the always awkward situation of getting caught trying to hypnotize someone. Better to play it safe for now. "Then we appear to have reached an impasse."
Not quite.
Whatever Zegana's response, Fleur didn't catch it. It was all she could do not to leap to attention. There was no mistaking that mental voice. The only non-changeling who could tap into the hive. The shapeshifter who beat her at her own game. The master of her guild.
Lazav.
Give the fishwoman what she wants. There is no harm in it.
Chrysalis didn't know where Lazav was, or whose form he was wearing, or why he'd chosen now to command her, but she could still reply along the same feed. Desperation, confusion, and recent memories raced to the mastermind at he speed of thought, their message clear: I just told her why I can't do that. How do I explain such a sudden reversal?
She is listing all that she fears will befall Ravnica if we do not accede. Let her think she's convinced you.
Lazav's presence left Fleur's mind as suddenly as it had come, leaving a clinging sense of intrusion. She resisted the impulse to shake her head.
True to the other shapeshifter's word, Zegana was in mid-rant. "...in which case the entire district's food supply will be tainted with putrescent biomantic byproducts, which will—"
Fleur held up her hooves. "Alright, alright! You've made your point!"
"Ah. Excellent. So, where are the cytoplasts?"
"It took some work to find them, but in retrospect, it was fairly obvious." Fleur's tongue was largely working on automatic, her thoughts still scattered by Lazav's intervention. She needed a bit of time to collect them. Maieutics to the rescue! "I assume you know how low-level Simic guild members were treated during Momir Vig's tenure?"
Zegana nodded with a sigh. "Yes. Experimental fodder. Unsatisfactory results were..." Her ensorcelled eyes widened as realization dawned. "They were flushed to the undersewers."
"Precisely. Usually after their cytoplasts had been removed, but not always. Given the sheer utility of the substance, both we and the Golgari treated such finds as windfalls."
"The Golgari as well?" Zegana finally raised her cup to her lips. "I suppose that comes as little surprise. Scavengers in action." She barely tilted the teacup, then held what little liquid she'd allowed for almost a minute.
Her emotions were strangely obscured, like a fog over her heart. "Well?" Fleur prompted.
The speaker shrugged. "Boiling water and I rarely get along. Still, it is good to know that there is nothing other than tea in the tea. So, how much cytoplastic material do you still have?"
"I'm just a librarian, ma'am. I was able to find where and why, but the higher-ups aren't going to tell someone like me how much."
"Hmm." Zegana's gaze drifted to the gaze, turning distant. "A shame. I cannot deny that great progress was made in that era, though it came at an even greater cost. And flushing undesirables into the undersewers was only one of many terribly foolish habits, even if it did remind those of us beneath them of the world above. Entire avenues of research were discarded at the whim of a single mad elf. Telempathy, for example."
"Oh?" Fleur was happy to encourage the merwoman. The longer Zegana stayed in a conversational mood, the longer the mare could spend not dealing with customers.
"Yes. A fascinating concept. A form of mind-to-mind communication as far beyond normal telepathy as that is beyond spoken conversation. A direct link into the unfiltered sensorium of another living creature. Alas, most brains could not handle such an experience. A species that could was found, but alas, the moment it was discovered, the word came down from on high: cease all research." Zegana rose from her seat. "Such wondrous creatures, changelings. Thank you for your time, Miss de Lis."
Fleur stared, slackjawed, as the merwoman left the reading room. Then she emptied the teapot directly into her mouth. She deserved it.
Several hours passed, filled mostly with encoding orders to the covert operatives of House Dimir, recording the hive's intelligence reports, and explaining how the card catalog worked. The second was the most interesting by far. Chrysalis wasn't terribly high in the Dimir hierarchy, but as a changeling queen, she had direct access to more than a thousand street-level spies. Collating their experiences gave her an excellent impression of the goings-on of the Tenth District, which had been getting ever more intense in recent weeks.
The Izzet were working at a fever pitch for reasons that probably only made sense to Niv-Mizzet himself. The Golgari found themselves fighting to keep magewrights out of their tunnels as the dragon's flunkies developed an inexplicable interest in archeology. Both Azorius and Boros were recruiting just about anyone who walked in the door. Attendance at religious ceremonies was higher than Fleur had ever seen, be they Selesnya, Orzhov, Rakdos, or unguilded. The Gruul were getting more restless than usual. And now the head of the Simic Combine came to Fleur in person. Everything was racing towards a climax, though what it was, the mare could not guess.
Trouble strutted through the door like it was demonstrating this conclusion. Dovri's shift had ended, so it was a petite young woman named Velda who darted up from an enormous codex, hands clasped together as she squeaked, "Mister Vosk!"
Mister Vosk was a pale man with trailing raven locks, an athlete's build, and rather more leather than any polite outfit should contain. If his canines were rather prominent or his eyes had yellow irises and black sclera, well, it took all kinds to make a world, didn't it? In any case, he scooped up Velda in a fierce embrace and twirled her about, eliciting delighted shrieks. "Darling, darling Velda!" he purred once he set her down. "Always so good to see you. We must catch up some time soon."
She nodded eagerly. "I'm sure you're very busy, though."
"Ah, you know me. Places to meet, things to go, people to do." Vosk gave the girl a roguish wink as he continued towards the front desk.
Fleur was rather less enamored with him. "You're disgusting, you know that?"
The vampire shrugged as he laid a novel-sized tome on the counter. "And you're dreadfully dull. What's your point?"
The mare's horn flared brighter than was strictly necessary as she took hold of the book. She flipped through it, eyes narrowed and ears flat. "Well, Mirko, it seems you managed to return one intact for once." She reached the inside back cover and quirked an eyebrow. "And on time, no less. What's the occasion?"
Mirko tried his most charming grin. "Would it really be so hard to believe I'm trying to be more conscientious?"
Fleur's response was drowned out by a half-felt, half-heard rumble. The doors of the library flew open, admitting an orange equinoid mass of fury. Faint tremors could be felt as the mare marched into the library. If looks could kill... well, in certain cases they could. The one on the earth pony's face certainly seemed worthy of a gorgon. "Ah got a bone t' pick with you, missy," she snarled, rage thick as her Fifth District accent.
Velda didn't bolt upright this time. She didn't even lift her head. What she did do was direct a pulse of thought-disrupting magic at the irate pony as she passed by.
Applejack flinched for a moment, then jabbed a hoof into the young woman's chair. The wood decayed and collapsed in less than a second, dropping Velda on her rump. The earth mare glared at her. "Y' jus' stay there in that pile o' punk, punk." She swept her gaze across the room. "Same goes fer anyone else. Ah may be angry, but Ah ain't stupid. Ah'm jus' here t' have a word with mah business associate. Don't go messin' with mah head, and Ah won't go messin' with yer bodies. Sound fair?"
Without waiting for a response, she continued to the front desk, reared up, and planted her forehooves on the counter. Glaring at Fleur, she snapped, "You. Me. Now."
The unicorn quirked an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to do that kind of thing when I'm on the clock." She turned away demurely. "Besides, you usually buy me dinner first."
Mirko chuckled huskily. "Well, now. If you had just told me you had a paramour, I wouldn't have wasted our time with my own advances."
Applejack's glare only deepened. Her hooves pressed into the polished black marble as though it were soft cheese, sand squeezing out behind her frogs. "Mah patience is hangin' by one thread, 'Fleur.'" She spat out the name with so much disgust that Fleur herself had to stifle a gag. "Ah wouldn't be jokin' if Ah were you."
The disguised mare bowed her head. "Very well. You have my apologies, Applejack. Come on, we can talk in the lounge. Mirko, you're in charge."
Vosk went from smug to shocked in an eyeblink. "What!?"
Fleur shrugged. "This is a library. We can't just leave the front desk unattended, and the others are on their lunch break."
"I don't even work here!"
"Not anymore."
Mirko grumbled for a moment before slumping and sighing. "Fine. But you owe me a favor."
Fleur did a little grumbling of her own. "Favors" for Mirko Vosk only ever meant one thing. "Fine. This way, Applejack."
She led the other mare into the loathed lounge. The last thing she needed was someone overhearing the details of her second role in the guild. She immediately regretted this decision. While Chrysalis took on her true appearance as she entered the room, Applejack took on her true odor. The changeling gagged, her eyes squinting shut. "Ugh! Reapply your deodorant, quick!"
"Hmph. Figgers y' can't stand th' smell of an honest day's work."
"An honest day's work on a rot farm!"
Chrysalis's eyes were beginning to tear up, but given the exasperation she sensed, Applejack was probably rolling her eyes. Mercifully, the stench's intensity plunged soon afterwards.
The changeling heaved a sigh of relief, then settled herself on the floor, waving Applejack towards one of the cushions. "Now," Chrysalis said once they were settled, "what seems to be the problem?"
Applejack gritted her teeth. "Th' problem is that yesterday there was one o' yer li'l critters tryin' ta talk up mah sister. Y' know our deal, Chrys—"
"Fleur while I'm on duty, please."
"Ah don't care if y' call yerself Princess Luna. The point is Ah ain't havin' no changelin' sniff around mah li'l sister while she don't know no better!" Applejack took a deep breath before she went on. "Now look, Chry– Fleur. Ah'm a farmer. It's mah duty an' mah pleasure t' see folks with food in their bellies. An' if Bloom falls in love with one o' yers when she can tell 'em fer what they are, well, that'll be her business. But Ah ain't gonna let no buggy bastard siphon that sweet li'l filly's love when she can't tell 'im from Pony Joe! Not when Winona an' her kin can give ya all th' love y' could ask fer."
Chrysalis nodded. She could certainly understand the rot farmer's position. Still, how could she explain how the mindless affection of a beast simply couldn't compare to the innocent first love of a child just starting to notice the opposite sex? Love was love to Applejack, much as fungus was fungus to Chrysalis herself. "I'll remind them, Jack. Just remember, they do have free will. You can't punish my whole hive for the indiscretions of a few."
Applejack huffed out a snort, but there was a hint of a grin on her muzzle. "Fleur, Ah wouldn't be a Golgari if Ah didn't believe in second chances." Her expression hardened. "But that's it. That drone o' yers done killed mah trust in you, but Ah got it back on its feet anyhow. Next time, it's stayin' dead, an' so's whatever bug's dumb enough to try an' have an Apple fer lunch. Y' hear me?"
"I hear you."
"Good. Ah gotta get back t' th' farm." The earth mare rose and stretched before fixing a hard stare on Chrysalis. "Next time, Ah won't come alone."
"There won't be a next time."
"Best not be."
The rest of Fleur's day passed by in a vague haze. After dealing with the head of one guild and her chief contact in another, anything else seemed dull in comparison. Even feeding the sanity-rending horror that lived in the basement just felt like part of the daily grind.
Finding a smiling Mirko Vosk sitting in the employees' lounge at the end of her shift was not an encouraging sign for the evening to come. "What are you even doing here?" asked the changeling.
Mirko sank a bit further into the armchair. "Well, given how you conscripted me, I figured I should take advantage of what perks there are while I can."
"Don't you have a job to do? I know you got new orders; I gave them to you."
"Not until midnight." The vampire's smile widened to a predatory rictus. "Besides, I want to call in my favor."
Chrysalis sighed, face in hoof. "Seriously?"
Mirko shrugged. "Why wait?"
"I swear, you only ever think about one thing."
"You know you love it."
Chrysalis glowered at that. "Don't talk to me about love, Vosk."
"A poor choice of words," Mirko conceded. "Still, you do owe me a favor. Would you rather I get a bit more creative?"
Chrysalis rolled her eyes and restored her disguise. "Fine. Come on."
In the dusky hours that evening, there was a bizarre sight for any who knew how and where to look. Hidden beneath a magical shroud, a porous-hooved creature flitted through the night sky, a pale humanoid astride her and whooping to the heavens.
"This is awesome!"
"Can't you fly yourself?" Chrysalis grumbled.
"Not like this," Mirko countered. "Do a barrel roll!"
"It's an aileron roll, you child." She did one anyway.
Dimir Guildpony UB
Creature — Pony Rogue
Whenever another Pony, Pegasus, or Unicorn enters the battlefield under your control, look at the top card of your library. You may put that card on the bottom of your library or into your graveyard.
"A guild is like a herd. Don't assume you can see every member."
1/2
Chrysalis, Information Gatherer 4UB
Legendary Creature — Shapeshifter Rogue
Flying, hexproof
Whenever Chrysalis, Information Gatherer deals combat damage to a player, that player reveals his or her hand. You may exile an instant or sorcery card from that hand encoded onto Chrysalis. If that card doesn't have cipher, it gains cipher. (Whenever Chrysalis deals combat damage to a player, its controller may cast a copy of that card without paying its mana cost.)
2/4
Georg preread this chapter and pointed out the more obtuse turns that needed to be made a bit more acute. Thanks for helping me set things right, G. 
This was fairly straightforward. Put the villain no one saw coming in the guild no one thought existed. Of course, the secret's out for both, but that doesn't make an army of psychic shapeshifters any less perfect for Dimir. Chryssy doesn't get many missions because she's far more valuable as a hub of changeling activity, coordinating, compiling, and otherwise doing the duties of a blue-black leader figure.
I considered giving Chrysalis changeling, but I thought it felt forced. Yes, she'd trigger guildponies, but any other tribal effects in Ravnica are few and far between. (Though you are now imagining Ogre Slumlord cuddling her.)
The idea of Mirko Vosk riding Chrysalis like a wish dragon popped into my head one day, and it was too glorious not to throw in. If anyone is in a particularly artistic mood, I'd love to see something along these lines.
As for AJ, if you think working with the Dimir seems dishonest, the deal pretty much begins and ends with supplying food for the changelings. You'll see more from the Apples' perspective next chapter.
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So that's Rakdos, Boros, Azorius, Izzet, Gruul, Simic, Dimir and Golgari revealed. Selesnya and Orzhov remain, and of the mane six we have Rarity and Fluttershy left without appearances.
I am really, really enjoying this. Keep up the good work!
Oh Mirko Vosk, how I hate your effect. I think this characterization might have made up for it though.
Huh. Didn't see that coming.
Huh. Should've seen that coming (waiting for her to be assassinated by Trixie or something)
Y'know, so many people (including myself) were hoping to see Rarity in House Dimir, but after reading this chapter, your choice fits so much better! Also, love me some Applejack
Sanity-rending horror?
Yeah, that's accurate. Especially when you mostly play multi-player.
3455822 So by process of elimination Fluttershy is Selesnya, And Rarity is in the Church of Loan sharks.
So, the Mushroom Kingdom is in Ravnica, and Dimir has managed to get the cooperation of the Boos? They always seemed more like Orzhov territory to me.
And here I thought you'd set it up for Mirko screwing Chryssy.
Ravnica have the dumb variety of pegasus, why can't he just borrow one of those?
3456314
More Likely Dinrova Horror, is the flavortext is any suggestion.
3460211 Oh snap. You are totally right.
Pretty easy to get all those impossible monstrosities confused.
Huh. I guess I was wrong, though for a shining moment, I thought I was right. I read "alabaster coat" and thought it was Rarity, then I read pink tail and was mildly confused until I remembered Fluer. (I almost suspected for a moment in my mild paranoia that if it was someone completely unexpected, it might have been Fluttershy in Dimir.)
And then she turned out to be Chrysalis. Which I really should have seen coming.
Also, so glad you did the barrel roll/aileron roll thing. It's the little things.
Nitpick:
Only Innistrad vampires have black sclera (though he does have yellow irises). So unless he's secretly Markov Vosk, Planeswalker...
3455876
There's something incredibly enjoyable about writing silly vampires. I think it may be a subconscious effort to redeem them after the indignities of the Twilight Saga by subjecting them to different, better written indignities.
Well, it makes sense to my subconscious.
3456314 3460211
Could be either, or for that matter neither. Never underestimate the Dimir when it comes to basement monsters. They've cornered the market. (Golgari does sewer monsters. Totally different.)
3456562
I don't know what you're talking about. The typo you mentioned is clearly not there. Really, I find the very idea silly and mildly offensive.
That being said, a ghost that can move through walls and doesn't like being looked at feels much more Dimir than Orzhov, and the Tenth Guild does have a few spirits in its employ.
3456106 3462994
One of my goals with this story is to capture the feel of each guild in its respective chapter. For Dimir, that meant nothing being as it first seemed. Which you should've seen coming.
3456798
Because half the fun is annoying his mount.
3464437
Look closely. Let it never be said I don't do the research.
3464478
Well then.
I still think that's wrong, because Sorin's special eyes ("they can't have my brand!") are explicitly stated to be a unique feature of Innistrad vampires (a side effect of the demonic pact that led to their creation, IIRC). I'll look into this more and get back to you.
3464478 I'm still kind of upset it didn't turn out to be Trixie. Seriously, who would've seen that coming? Even I only suggested it in jest
Chrysalis should totally have changeling. I mean seriously! It's perfect!
You typed "with" twice.
You're missing a closing pair of quotation marks.
> The idea of Mirko Vosk riding Chrysalis like a wish dragon popped into my head one day, and it was too glorious not to throw in.
Yeah, that was pretty freaking awesome.
Especially with the head-fake leading into it.
I'm a little confused by the wording for the dimir guildpony. Would you also have the option of putting the card back on top of your library, or are the two listed options the only ones you may take? If the latter, I can only see them being truly useful either in a sultai deck or else used en masse.
5839509
The "may" gives you the option of leaving it on top. And remember, there are some cards that like being in your graveyard.
Oh! It's Rarity!
Yep, definitely Rarity.
...or not. Hmm. Fleur de Lis?
Yup.
Y u do dis to me?
It's Chrysalis, isn't it?
-- A rough transcript of my thoughts reading the first ten paragraphs.
That's an interesting set of abilities you've given apple-horse.
I thought "Mirko" and "Vosk" were two different people until that last scene, and wondered where the hell Mirko had come from in the previous one.