Chapter 14 The Dire

I looked up the map of Innistrad on google and it turns out there is no official map. Well. The relative position between each region will be a bit vague. I will mostly adhere to Gelven's version.

Reviews/ Q&A

Someguy the anon: Can you leave something in the beginning of a chapter to say if it touches on stuff from the world Jon is originally from …

I hope you like what I did with this one. It will come her from time to time. The narrative I aim for is that Jon doesn't know what's going on in his home plane until it blows up to his face.

: Interesting

Thanks mate.

ThatOneGuyUpstair: Wait did the planeswalker sterility thing still exist after the mending

I don't know actually. But the only two planeswalker who have children are Tamiyo and Angrath, and both of them seems to have children and family before their planeswalker spark ignited. So, this is my explanation in my story (head)canon. The truth probably be that WotC doesn't want to drive into that kind of narrative.

Also, you shouldn't think about this thing much. I intend it as a joke and how to show the side of a planeswalker that WotC doesn't show you. One of the perks of a fanfiction, I guess.

King's Landing is not as grand as one thought it is, and no one knows this more than the hand of the king. The sewer system is non-existent, and with millions of people cramming in a small area the filth piles up real fast. The stench of the city is legendary, even at the higher quarter or the red keep. People always starving in Fleabottom, a crime-ridden quarter of the capital. Sometimes Jon Aryn wonders how the gold cloaks do their job if they do anything at all.

And that is the mess of one city. From the trajectory, his fostered son Robert will turn entire Westeros into a similar shithole before he drinks and whores to his early grave. The crown is millions in dept, a magnificent feat considering that before his reign the treasury is full.

If Westeros had not been burned before then, he might need to find a way to reign in Robert. There is, however, a more immediate threat to the realm. The Northern heathens have outdone themselves. Talk of independence from the crown and faith had been going on for quite a while. When Varys' little bird starts to sing, he doesn't want to believe it. It seems that his other fostered son Ned cannot even control his own bannermen.

The hostility between the two faith is building up rapidly. With that kind of tension, Jon Aryn is surprised that his goodsister is still alive at all. The redhead Tully is as unyielding as she always is. Not only she does not willing to adapt to the Northern way of life, but she also insists that the North would fit hers. And Ned, a son that he raised, does nothing to reprimand her. Maybe they believe that the Stark name would stop all these aggressions to escalate beyond what they can control, but now even he starts to doubt. He dreads to think about what would happen when the Stark name got ignore by the fanatical heretics.

That would cause war. To think that it starts from the death of a bastard, and his namesake at that.

The faith down south doesn't fare much better either. Septons across the south of the Neck start preaching about the holy wars once again. Worse still, it leads to a forming of a new faith militant. These people are as much as crazy as their northern counterparts. Lead by a man called High Sparrow, they overthrown the old High Septon in a bloody coup.

He is sure that Tywin doesn't have to deal with a thing like this under the mad king rule. At least he can hope that the faith militant will sort out the heretical problems down south first. If they can deal with the mountain men problem in Vale, the better.

If the faith between the north and south fight, it will become two problems that take care of themselves. As unlikely as it may seem, an old man like him can dream, can't he?

Jon Aryn isn't the kind of man who drinks during his working hours but now is an exception. He opens a bottle of Abor Gold and pours himself a glass. He then looks at the report laid on his working table in his quarter. With a long sigh, he drinks the entire glass in one go and pours another one.

"My love." A woman half his age who he called wife enters the room. She doesn't even care that he is working, nor the protocol for meeting the hand of the king. "I wonder whether Peter …"

"Not now, Lysa!" He doesn't even bother to look at her. And of course, he doesn't notice her hateful eyes or her ugly murderous face as she walks away.

"… You see Jon, you will reach deeper when you do it from behind. But the best position …" For the past two hours, his mother didn't stop imparting her firsthand knowledge to him. Yes, he is uncomfortable. Yes, this is awkward. And yes, he didn't pay much attention although some bit and piece might prove useful.

It also helps that he has another voice in the head to keep him distracted.

'…You have a very interesting choice for a family, boy. The monk is decent. The fake dragon is useful. The Shewolf is … peculiar to say the least. But I have to agree, you need to hone your skills.' Vaevictis Asmadi snickers in his head. 'Lucky for you, back in my day I'm quite well known for my prowess in…'

'Oh, shut up! Not you too.' Jon wants to slam his head to the wall or something similar, but he cannot. Banging your head on a tree in Ulvenwald is akin to telling every forest spirit in the area to kill you.

'There is no me and you, boy. There is only us. We are one. It would be wise to listen to my counsel.'

The conversation inside his head is a riveting experience for Jon. It is like he hears a thought that is not his own as if the elder dragon is living inside his head. He had doubt at the elder dragon's claim that they are one. However, he doesn't dare to think it least Vaevictis Asmadi might notice. He knows the lying game well enough, and he will bind his time. Until he learns how to block his own thought, he will need to play along.

'You were an elder dragon devoid of any humanity and companionship. How will your council help me?' Jon tries to keep his face as calm as possible, even though he is screaming internally.

'Who says I don't have companionship? Hmmm. Mayhap, like me, you will prefer dragons to humanoid. Do you know when you can move in three dimensions it is liberating? To feel the cold wind against your skin, while two of you twirling toward the ground. The blood rush will make your …' The elder dragon ramblings on.

'YOU WILL CESE AND DESIST! CESE AND FUCKING DESIST!' He internally bellows. Seeing that there is no way to stop the dragon, Jon tunes out from the oncoming description of the elder dragon mating ritual and further details. He has listened to that kind of debauchery for one day.

Their hunt has begun. This hunt is special for their target is a planeswalker. Their prey can be anywhere on Innistrad. Some might say that it will be impossible to achieve, but those people are not a planeswalker. They can just planeswalk away and to their destination. As long as they can find the lead, their task is already half done. But a good hunter will never go to one of the most heavily guarded enemy territory uniformed. That's why their first destination is eastward to the Approaches.

The Approaches is the Innistrad of Innistrad. It is a faithless place where the light of Avacyn didn't even reach. Criminals flocks there as well as anyone who wants to escape the church's rule. Its air smells of heresy. Its denizen ushers in corruption of the worst kind. Arlinn would not bring Jon here if she had a choice, but they need information. And who would know more about the church activity more than those who actively hide from them?

But that doesn't mean they have to be nice to the people here. On the contrary, the denizens of the Approach mostly speak one language: Violence. One needs to be though and merciless to be able to demand anything here. For Jon and Arlinn, though, violence is in their nature. Only through tamper and self-control that they kept the wolf spirit in check.

And in the Approach, they can let it out without any consequences. They will be long gone before the church notices anything. Sorin would not bat an eye if a few hundred lives here gone missing, because it's a norm. They are killing each other there all the time, a few hundred more is a little drop in an ocean.

Arlinn and Jon will have an easy time here. Easy for them, not so much for the denizens of the Approach.

"Hey! Look at that. A bitch and her son. Lady luck shines upon us today." One of the low life comments. "She looks a bit old but still in a good shape for a good fuck. The boy looks healthy enough. He would make a fine damn feast."

Feast? What the fuck?

"Looks like meat is back on menu boys!" The other ones scream.

Oh.

"Hmph!" Arlinn swings her spear and launches it at the loudmouth scum. He dies right on the spot with a spear struck through his mouth. "Jon. No survivor."

"But mother. What about the answer we are looking for?" Jon confusingly summons his spear. He still has much to learn.

"Stupid boy. Do you really think that one of these fools know the answer we are looking for? No. We kill enough of them, then someone who knows for will eventually take notice and seek us out." Arlinn lunges at the recently dead man and plants her boot on his chest as she rips the spear out of his face. The force of the impact is so great it tears out the dead man's torso from his body.

Silent falls as people look at the sheer brutality in shock.

*HOWL*

The onlooker turns and Jon dashes toward the nearest "target" and cleaves him diagonally in two. The force behind his swing makes the blood to splatter into a red mist. And from the red mist becomes a red blur as the slaughter begins.

And within minutes, it ends. The death toll is in dozens. Their sheer bestial ferocity and ruthlessness stunted the Approach's rabble turning one of the most notorious individuals into nothing but a lamb to the slaughter. These people are not trained soldier. Notorious bandit they might be, but when caught unprepared and without weapons, they are harmless.

The mother and son always try to be civilized. As a planeswalker, they need to be, for they need to adapt to the new environment and new civilization. But as a werewolf the there is nothing that makes their blood pumping more than the thrill of a fight. Violence is their true nature. There is nothing more appealing to them than the thrill of the hunt and the rush of blood from the fight.

Well, sex comes close. It's a high second place but Jon doesn't know that. Yet.

And maybe he never will if he doesn't man up and own it to himself.

Sitting on a pile of corpses, Jon naively asks his mother. "What now mother? Should we wait so they can find us?"

"No. We move on." Answered his mother. "This kind of death is normal in this region. We need a lot more to draw their attention."

Looking at bloody mangle bodies under him, Jon could only feel that there is something wrong in their actions. His thought is confirmed when even Vaevictis Asmadi agrees.

"Oh my. Quite a bloodthirsty aren't you, your mother and yourself? You don't even hesitate when you go for a kill. Perfect. The ferocity even rivals my own, albeit lesser in destructive power." Taunts the elder dragon. "What's this? Feeling remorse for their deaths? You don't hesitate to kill but feel guilty afterward?"

"Shut up!" Jon internally screams. Sure, he doesn't hesitate to kill on his mother's command. Still, the sheer number of life loss gnaws at his mind. Why do they have to kill this much? Must they waste this much life for an answer? They don't even start tracking the necromancer. How many lives must be lost to this endeavor?

AND WHY DOES THE DRAGON SO WHOEHEARTLY APPROVE THIS ACTIONS?

"Why should I? You do enjoy it. The blood rush feels good, doesn't it? That's our nature, why deny them?"

For once, Jon doesn't reply.

If there is something strange …

In your neighborhood …

Who you gonna call? …

Tamiyo. She probably records it in her journal. …

"Oh?" is the only words she has uttered for the past four days. She has been observing the magical properties of Innistrad's cloud. For the plane that is so saturated with black mana, its sky contains very little. This holds true even in the region that lacks the presence of the church and angel. She needs to record it for further studies.

Then she notices a spike in planeswalker's activity below her. Two, quite surprisingly. Two planeswalkers are traveling together killing the locals while they are killing each other. She would ignore them had she not notice a familiar figure.

"Arlinn? What is she doing this time?" Tamiyo tilts her head, closes her journal, and descends. "Crazy bitch."

When she flew down, all she could see is a city-sized brawl. Humans fighting humans while a vampire is stabbing someone else in the back. Zombies drag the one that falls down into the ground. Devils jumping from roof to roof, raining fire down to those who are fighting below. Beasts and animals tear apart the fallen limbs from limbs. Vampires are killing humans, humans are killing demons, devils are killings humans, spirits are killing devils, animals are killing vampires, zombies are killing animals and many more permutations imaginable.

And in the middle of it all is her "friend" Arlinn. She accompanies a younger boy who resembles her in both look and behavior, as far as she can briefly observe.

A werewolf? This young? Had Arlinn achieved the impossible?

Considering what she knows about her friend, birthing a child is not a distant possibility. As the old saying in Rhabia: When you throw enough mud at the wall one is bound to stick.

"Arlinn." Tamiyo calls the name as she descends close enough. She also blasts a devil that tries to jump her out of the sky with her minor scroll. "Should I be surprised?"

The werewolf laughs at her question. "Should you? Should I?" She looks up then suddenly turns to face the incoming fist from a demon. She blocks it with her bare hand, twists it around and headbutts the attacker. The demon falls right on the spot.

"I'm your only friend from Kamigawa." She replied.

"How?" The question could be interpreted in many ways and she would like to record all of them. The phenomena are not natural, even on Innistrad. Sure, there is a murder and dark ritual every night, but a "bar fight" that includes almost all the nastiness of the plane is in no way normal.

As she ponders, a balefire dragon flies from a distant mountain top to join the fray. It swoops down and burns half of the town, killing everything that caught in its fire. Then it just left, as if nothing happens.

"What!" She exclaims. These behaviors are not normal. Nothing here makes sense. Oh. She needs to record this in a scroll and lock it away in the tower of Oboro. This knowledge is dangerous. Fascinatingly dangerous.

*ROAR*

She turns toward a young boy beside Arlinn, who is the origin of the terrifying sound. All she sees is a stream of fire bursting out and burns all that stand in its way. This is not Arlinn's magic. The boy is special that is to be sure. He may look somewhat likes Arlinn but he is also something more. Something worth observing and studying, that's to be sure.

By the time she finishes contemplating the mob has been scattered. Senseless violence against each other is one thing, but a mass death by two dragon fires is another.

"Good job, Jon!" Arlinn proclaims. "Are you having fun?"

"Fun? Aren't we here to gather information, mother?" The boy looks back at Arlinn. So, his name is Jon. Hmm.

"Yes. And here she is. May I present auntie Tamiyo. As you can see, she is also a planeswalker like us. She loves telling stories so feel free to ask her some. Also, she is one of the few who got herself caught in a trap that is marriage." Arlinn yanks her leg down and with some wrestling involve, the shewolf catches her in a side headlock.

"The last part is unnecessary, but thanks for an introduction Arlinn." Tamiyo finds herself unable to break free. Strength is not her strong suit. She observes the boy face and finds that he is indeed a planeswalker. His glowing eyes are a dead giveaway.

So Arlinn give birth to another planeswalker? This is worth a record.

"She also one of a few who have a child, so she can teach you a thing or two about sex and how to be good at it!" Arlinn continues with a sentence that makes her want to blast the bitch sky high, a friend or not.

"Gods damn it, Arlinn. Why do you have to be such a slut?" She hit Arlinn arms to make her loosen but only to make the hold tighter. "I'm sorry you have to hear that young man. … Release me, you bitch!"

"I prefer the term, Absolute Legend." Said Arlinn before she releases her from the hold. "It's more … refine."

"Mother. If she is your friend, can't you just … you know … call her? Why do we need to … WELL! THIS!" He swipes his hand around to draw their eyes to the total carnage of the city. Fires burn everything to ash as the ground is dyed red with blood. A puss of zombie rotten bile mixes with an unholy mess of a demon corpse. It is not a majestic scene to see.

Is that common sense? Tamiyo ponders. Whoever the boy father was, he should be a paragon of commonsense to balance out the batshit craziness that he inherits from Arlinn.

"Oh, no no no. She not who we were looking for, but she probably has the answer we seek. You see an ash pile over there? That's the one I bring you here for is a vampire lord who prized himself in knowing everything on Innistrad. Too bad that dragon decides to swoop on just the right moment. But do not fret! Tamiyo is here and she records everything." Arlinn nonchalantly explained.

"What!" Both she and the boy scream. Arlinn laughs.

After the things die down and his bloodlust is satiated, Jon's mind is clear enough to ask questions. Arlinn is a good woman and the best mother he could ever hope for, but sometimes she let her emotions rule her decision instead of logic. It makes her very fierce and protective, but sometimes a more civilized approach is needed. At least that is what Ugin had warned him.

"So. Can you help us, lady Tamiyo?" He asked, hoping that he sounds civilized enough.

There is no immediate answer. The moonfolk seems to stare at him so intensely it creeps him out. He feels like he is an artifact that is being appraised. It is as if she is trying how he is operated. Combining with her pale white skin and elongated neck, it makes him uncomfortable.

"Sure. But I need something in return, some answers of my own. Do we have a deal?" She extends her hand for him to shake. He takes it of course. His mother seems to approve as well. But how does one be so easy to persuade?

"So, tell me about yourself. How do you come to be? And why do I don't know about you all these times?" She asked. "Don't make that confuse face. There are not many things that could hide from me, especially when we consider Arlinn's hobby."

Jon's lips are sealed and turns to his mother for permission. Only when she nods does he open his mouth to answer.

"My name is Jon Snow, milady. My spark ignited when I was eight and I planeswalk to Innistrad. Mother found me in Ulvenwald and adopt me. I don't know who my real mother was. My lord father never tells me when I asked. That was six years ago. Mother teach me how to hunt, how to blend in, how to fight." His eyes dart back and forth between lady Tamiyo and his mother. His mother smiles at his choice of words, while lady Tamiyo slightly frown.

"Adopted, huh? So, the likeliness between the two of you are a coincidence?" She asked further.

"Yes, milady." Jon nods.

"Shame. And here I thought Arlinn finally got what she deserved from whoring around so much." Tamiyo rolls her eyes.

The scroll beside her is writing itself! It seems to note down what he told her. Neat.

"Hey, I am being an absolute legend. I never ask for money; it is about the enjoyment of the game. Besides, I didn't do it that often." His mother places her hand on her hips. She raised her voice but not out of anger. Clearly, this is one of her japing moments.

"You do it with Uncle Vol and Aunt Narset at least every fortnight for the past two years, mother." He decides to join in.

"NOT HELPING, JON!" His mother snaps at him.

"Vol? As in Sarkhan Vol? The one who traveled back in time and supposing changes Tarkir's history that we don't know about?" Tamiyo then snaps at his mother. Her eyes gleam with wonder. Her complexion and stance changes into what he could only deduce to be a sign of craving. Craving for what? He isn't sure. It is probably knowledge but considering all the planeswalker his mother is friend with so far, he would not put it past them to be something weird.

"Yes, it is a long story." His mother answered. She twirls her hair and raises her chin up.

"Well. Tell me more." Lady Tamiyo responds. She giggles like a little girl. "And after that, you will tell me how you two Rakdos the Approach by yourselves."

Meanwhile, on Zendikar, two planeswalkers are observing the weakening of the hedron network. The lock is dissolving, and soon whatever inside will break out. Even now, they could feel the corruption and the voice that invade their minds. Had they not been warned beforehand, they might even succumb to the mental attack.

"Vol?" Asked the woman. "What is it?"

"The spell has weakened a great deal since the last time I was here." Vol gestures his partner to the fading inscription on the hedron. "The first lock had been destroyed. We need to warn Ugin."

The woman nods. "Yes. Why does anyone what to unleash these monsters? If left unchecked they will destroy everything in the multiverse."

"Well, my dear Narset. The better question is: What do Bolas what to accomplish by unleashing these monsters?" Vol slightly nods and brings forth his hands, of which Narset takes. "Whatever it is, it will never be well for the likes of us." They planeswalk back to Tarkir, together.

Custom Card of the Chapter

Name: Violent AcKordance

Manacost: 3RRBB

Type: Legendary Sorcery

Card Text:

Prevent damage that is dealt to target creature until the end of turn.

Creatures you control get +2/+0 and have "can't be blocked by two or more creatures" until end of turn

Untapped all creatures. Destroy all creatures that was not attack or block at the end of the turn.

Flavor Text: "This is a cluster fuck. I need to record the shit out of it!" – Tamiyo, internally.

Rarity: Uncommon