Author's Note: MTG/Buffy cross. Will be multicross later. Starts S3E12.

Ambition 1

The fist sent me flying into the alleyway. Luckily, I landed on a nice, squishy pile of garbage.

I'm sorry to say that by now, I was fairly used to being decked in the face and thrown out of various taverns.

Though the garbage was a new one.

It wasn't like I was being that rowdy; apparently, I just smelled too human. Can't even hang out with demons these days I guess. Then again, they might have detected the conjured money, or that I was younger than I acted. Now thoroughly pissed off, I stood and brushed sundry gross things off my coat, giving my aggressor a glare. The demon - a rather ugly thing with red eyes and pebbly gray skin - laughed and closed the door, leaving me alone in the alley.

I considered sending a pestilence of roaches his way for a moment, then shrugged.

"Too much effort," I muttered, slurring slightly and mildly regretting the loss of my bottle. Say what you want about the underworld, they know where the good booze is at. There wasn't much else I liked about this plane, that was for sure - they had some sort of age limit on drinking in normal bars. Still, I had a reason for being here.

Every Walker was linked to the land. We could feel it under our feet. Smell it on the breeze. Hear it, like the subtle hum of power lines in the distance. Mana was in our blood, our hearts, our souls, and this place was thick with a miasma of dark power, with Black mana.

My kind of mana.

The place had seemed pretty appealing when I sensed it – unique Sources usually did – but there was a distinct abundance of hungry monsters wandering around. I'd had to disintegrate at least three already – irritating and resource intensive, since they were immune to basic entropy - and spared the fourth only because he'd given me directions to Willie's.

Considering how that had ended, I should have vaporized that one too.

Not that I wanted them to vaporize, that was just a side effect of draining their life force, which was definitely not the bog standard reaction to that particular spell. I could only assume it was a species trait. It made recovering valuables practically impossible, but I imagined it made the bits and pieces easy to sweep up afterwards.

Without much else to do, I spun in a slow circle, then picked the direction with the most Black in it and started walking. Maybe I'd get some attuning done tonight.

This town had a lot of cemeteries.

This was a good thing, since I could theoretically parcel them up and gain multiple sources, but it also raised certain questions that sobered me up quick.

For one, the people I met ran away when I tried to ask them for directions, indicating they knew the dangers of wandering the streets at night (though it might be they just disliked drunken strangers asking for the nearest cemetery.) Despite this, there were no mobs with torches and pitchforks like you'd normally expect in a place with this many monsters.

The last time I'd seen this many monsters in one place, I'd spent the night on top of a building warding off werewolves until I mustered the strength to Walk. People should be running, or rioting, or at least handing out worthless passive-aggressive safety pamphlets.

Instead, you had extra jumbo-sized cemeteries. Lots and lots of dead people who – for some moronic, inexplicable reason – didn't even realize they were being herded and slaughtered for food. People could be stupid, but not that stupid.

It made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Something was definitely off in – well, wherever this was.

At least the cemeteries were nicer than Yharnam's. Similar architecture, but better maintained.

I was here to tap the land for power, but doing so while drunk would be a mistake. It was probably a bad sign for my psyche, but leaning against tombstones was pretty comfortable and the grass was nice and soft.

I yawned, and leaned back against the cool marble.

Ahh. Dark, damp, and creepy.

Just like home.

Camping outside for a night wasn't as totally insane as it appeared, even with the vampires. Nothing was going to surprise me with my minions guarding my back, and spending time in an area made it easier to attune. Still, the temperature at 3 AM was in the low fifties.

Time like these made me sad that my minions weren't really the warm cuddly type. I mean, some fungus demons were warm from decomposition, but the thought of cuddling with one of those just grossed me out.

Besides, I could summon blankets for negligible mana expenditure. Warm, fuzzy blankets. I settled into them, getting comfortable at last. Various species of undead vermin were on patrol, and they wouldn't let a single demon -

"Are you sleeping on someone's grave?"

Oh, come on, I had minions. I cracked an eye open; short blonde girl, soul present. I suppose technically I had ordered them to guard me from monsters, and she didn't look that threatening. If she'd been a vampire, she'd have been critter food.

Or I'd have had time to escape. One of the two.

"Maybe?"

"How is it maybe?" Short, blonde, and irritable. Just what I was looking for to make the land-bond fugue more enjoyable.

"It's maybe because the body probably wandered off the night they buried him." I eyed her. "Listen, if you don't mind, I'm kind of in the middle of something."

She scowled at me. "And you look so trustworthy, taking a nap after midnight in a cemetery."

I raised one eyebrow. "Trustworthy? What are you, neighborhood watch?"

"I'm a vampire slayer," Blondie growled, raising an honest-to-god stake.

Who uses stakes?

"Sort of low-tech aren't you?" I asked, frowning. "I mean, if I were hunting vampires I'd bring along a trick weapon, or maybe a big flamethrower."

Fire was so useful. I'd always wanted to try Red magic, but unfortunately I lacked the visceral passion required. It was one of my fondest daydreams to turn an entropy-immune nuisance into an impromptu lightning rod.

"Where would I even get a flamethrower? Not to mention-"

"Listen Blondie," I began, raising my voice and sitting up. "Not that the talk hasn't been fun-"

"Blondie?!"

We started to talk over one another, and I suppose it must have been loud enough to wake the dead, because that's exactly what happened.

"Gack!" I yelped, rolling off the grave and into the wet grass. One of the grasping appendages grabbed my ankle, pulling itself up further and preventing me from rolling away. "Sorry, didn't know it was occupied!"

"This is why you don't sleep in cemeteries!" Blondie punctuated the last word with a powerful stomp. The emaciated vampire, now more or less fully exposed, shrieked in pain and let go.

"What are the odds of that?!" I asked plaintively, backpedaling. Instinctively, I began to call my minions – then I stopped. For some reason, I felt she'd react badly to a horde of rats and undead house cats leaping out of the shadows. "I mean, vampires resurrecting right when you're on top of them?!"

"It's not a newborn," she said, casually swatting a grasping limb aside. "They hibernate in graves sometimes, it's why this one's so dried up looking. You know, they sell lotions for that now!"

It snarled at her.

Might be the time to leave. Besides, she said she was a vampire slayer, so she probably had it cov-

Blondie blinked, suddenly looking dizzy, then yelped as Vampire Mook #1 took advantage of the moment to kick her into a stone wall. When she didn't recover, the vampire took the opportunity to pounce.

There was a moment of desperate struggling, then the teeth started to come inexorably down.

I paused for a moment to consider, then marshaled my energies and gestured. Vampires were immune to entropy like most undead, but there were ways around everything. A thick, almost alive rope whipped out from the darkness and coiled around the monsters torso. The vampire had a moment to screech in surprise, then it was dangling helplessly in the air as the spell took hold.

The enervating tendril plunged into its chest, greedily siphoning life force until it exploded into ash.

Despite nominally draining the necromantic energies from it, I felt winded. That was the fourth such spell I'd cast today, and it wasn't a cheap one. I slumped backwards, breathing heavily.

Blondie recovered her stake, eyeing me warily. "What are you?"

"Necromancer," I told her irritably. "Also, for a supposed vampire hunter I have to say you really suck."

"Hey!" She objected, gesturing with the stake. It would have been more intimidating if she wasn't leaning against a wall for support. "I've killed lots of vampires! I'm just . . . having an off night!"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, next time you're having an off night, maybe you should, I don't know, stay home?! If I hadn't been around, that thing would have had you for an entrée."

She looked at the spot where the vampire had dusted, then swallowed. "Yeah. Um – thanks, I guess. Wait," she narrowed her eyes at me, "did you say you were a necromancer?"

"Oh, lord, here come the pitchforks. I'll have you know necromancy's an honorable trade," I replied, standing up. My clothes were now damp and chilly, which was just perfect. "I deal with zombies and demons and – well, most recently vampires. It helps me regain energy if I'm in-" I gestured, "- places like this."

She continued the stare for a moment, then that odd, confused expression appeared again. She tried to hide it, but her legs were trembling. "I'm too tired to argue. If I catch you starting a zombie apocalypse, I'm staking you. Got it?"

"Sure, sure, threaten the guy that saved your life," I rolled my eyes, then considered her for a moment. "Joshua Daniels."

"What?"

"My name. What's yours?"

"Oh," she blinked. "Buffy."

I stared, not sure if she was joking or giving me an alias. She reddened, but raised her chin defiantly. Her eyes promised serious pain depending on my next remark.

My lips twitched. "It's a . . . perfectly cromulent name."

From the look on her face, she had no idea what cromulent meant, but she could obviously sense she was being mocked. With a huff, she turned and strode out of the graveyard.

"Don't get murdered! I don't want to clean up the mess!"

"And remember, go straight home!" I called after her, grinning ear to ear. "After all, a delicate flower like you – what if you ran into an undead kitten?!"

The indignant, rage-filled "What?" echoing through the tombstones made my night infinitely better. I was almost tempted to send an actual zombie cat after her, just to see the reaction.

I settled down, still smiling, and began fall back into meditation - with fresh, dry blankets of course.

After all, the grave was definitely empty now. Besides, there's no better way to attune your spirit to Black than fighting for your life against an undead monster in a spooky cemetery. Stealing his coffin afterwards was just a bonus.

After about three hours of cold, dampness, and cramps, I stood and stretched hugely. The mana connection was new and alive in my mind, positively – or negatively, in this case - thrumming with power.

Local sources were much more effective for quick evocation. They tended to replenish and provide mana faster than foreign lands did, meaning that binding a land or two was generally one of the first things a Planeswalker did when they found a new playground.

Still, it was surprising how freely this place gave up power to any random supplicant. I'd expected to have to come back and finish it up tomorrow night.

"First things first," I leaned heavily on the tombstone, sleeping legs not wanting to support me. "Have to find a good lair. Every necromancer has to have a good lair, preferably with a dungeon."

Divination was a Blue thing; Blue could mystically conjure knowledge like no one's business, leading the wizard wherever he wanted to go. Black could do something similar . . . at a price. In this case, that price was the shedding of blood – my blood. Blood divination was generally pretty effective, though to be perfectly accurate I'd need a quill and paper.

Though if I had a goat handy I could perform some good ol' fashioned haruspex. Sadly, I'd never taken the time to create a goat summon.

My spell went off perfectly. The spilled blood coalesced nearly instantly, pointing all the way to - to the building nearest to me.

"Huh," I blinked, absentmindedly using vitae to heal my arm. "Who leaves a perfectly good mansion unoccupied?"