Chapter15 Battle-Forged

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Gulltown, the seat of house Grafton, is one of the wealthiest ports in Westeros. It is a jewel of the Vale and the major trade hub of the kingdom. Not only the money it brings from tax alone could equal the entire heathen region of the North, as the largest city of the region it also houses many cadet branches of the Vale noble houses.

And now, it is on fire.

Screaming men. Half-naked men. Faithless men. And many more adjectives could be used to describe those that are sacking the city. They came from the Mountain of Moon and they brought nothing but bloodshed and destruction.

All ten mountain clans united for the first time in recent history. Their attack is more frequent and more strategic. They raided a far end village and slaughter everyone. They burnt down sept after sept just to lure the bulk of the Vale's knight away from their garrison. They stormed the said garrison and plundered all the steel and armor their and burnt down everything else. Every settlement along the Eastern Road was either in ruin or abandon. Then the mountain clan also ran down the refugee that didn't escape them fast enough, took all the young women, and killed the rest.

Not long after that, a rumor started spreading. A rumor about a new leader of the mountain clan who carried an idol of the white wolf with grey eyes. He unites the savaged first men to defy the power of the Seven and the Andal. Some say he was the Griffon King reborn. Some say he was a story created to hide the support the savage got from the Northern lords. Some say the man was Jon Snow himself came back from the dead for vengeance.

Whatever the truth is, it doesn't matter for Lord Gerold Grafton. He has a much more immediate concern that is a sword struck through his gut. The blade sunk so deep past his body into his throne it cannot be dislodged easily. This proved to be fortunate for him, in some perspective, as it is the only thing that keeps him alive, for now at least. On his left is a lifeless body of his eldest son, decapitated. His younger son doesn't fare better as he is currently strangled to death by the savage. His wife is not there with him, but her screams echo the hall. He could only imagine what does the mountain men are doing to her.

Rape. Arson. Murder. If you add a blood orgy to the mix you would get a Rakdos Cult's Monday Party Starter pack.

And then he came. The mythical leader of the mountain men. His skin is painted pale white and his face is a warpaint in the shape of red tears akin to that of the weirwood tree.

"Oi. Who the fuck put a sword into the Andal lord's gut? We need him alive as sacrifice to the gods." Said the painted man. "Whatever, we can do it now. Bring the woman. Ready her for sacrifice too."

Lord Grafton's eyes rolls back into his head as the painted man orders his savage minion to bring his naked and beaten wife back into the hall. They throw her ruined body on the floor between him and their dead son.

"Which of you deepshit defile the god's offering! I told you to keep the cock inside your pants!" The painted man yells. He hit the men with a cock exposed in the head with a hammer. The man falls down dead on the spot.

"You will not get away with this!" said lord Grafton. He finds it hard to speak when blood is flooding his mouth, but that is the least of his concern.

"Oh. I think we will." The painted man spits at him and smiles. His teeth are too clean for him to be a mountain man. "The dawn of a new age is upon us. The White Wolf had shown us the way. The old gods had spoken. And we are their bloody hand."

He lifts his hammer up high. "For the life he was denied, I offer an Andal whores wrongfully sit in a position of a Lady of Gulltown." He slams it on Lady Grafton's head. The blow shatters and blends everything above her neck into a bloody paste.

"For the injustice of his death, I offer the bastard born under the union of the false Seven." The painted man smashes his hammer on young Grafton's jaws. It is launched across the hall with a trail of blood that follows close. The barbarian that holds him down then slash his throat with a knife and pull his tongue out from the wound.

"For the guidance he showed us, I offer the scum who plagues our land and kills our people. O' The Great White Wolf, Avenger and Protector, bless us with your strength and there will be more." As soon as he finishes his sentence, he swings his warhammer at Lord Grafton's head. There and then, House Grafton is extinct.

"Bring all the spoils to the mountain. We will ambush the Vale knight along the moon road."

Meanwhile on Kamigawa

As if his day would be any more bizarre. His sweat from the brawl didn't even dry yet and he had to planeswalk again. At least this "Kamigawa" plane is civilized. Bizarre but civilized.

And holy cheap shit the city is floating over the cloud.

Jon had a proper bath in a bathhouse, or what he thought it was a bathhouse. He cannot make head or tail of the language they used here. All he could see is some wiggly lines arranged in a pattern. Heck, he could be taking a bath in a fishpond and the folks just amuses enough not to stop him.

Not that he would understand when they are talking to him either.

And the people here. Oh, he once thought he was pale. The moonfolk coloring makes him looks like a dark skin from Dorne.

But damn, the place is nice. The water is scented with flower, jasmine, he believed. The running water is not too hot or too cold. Everything is just right. And it is damn well better than Winterfell. And a league better then what he had on Tarkir or Innistrad. Considering that he either slept among the star or in a decorated cave they dug out themselves, he couldn't complain much.

How many planeswalkers do it take to make a proper running water system? Well, no matter the number it will never be enough. What you need is a proper engineer. What they achieved on Tarkir was a miracle even with Ugin help.

After a proper bath, Jon finds himself joining Tamiyo and his mother in the garden. The view is good. He could see a civilization in the distance below him. He wants to go there and explore but then he reminds himself that he is currently in the floating city in the sky. Where is uncle Vol when he needs him?

Even then Jon doubts that uncle Vol would be much use against Lord Sorin had he known they took their time off from their mission.

"… Then those two show up at the old wyrm's place and somehow Ugin rope them in to teach Jon. Typical workload distribution I suppose. The high and mightly Ugin's time is far too important to prepare my son for the horror of the multiverse aside from occasional chat, of which are just telling the story of his good old day. Seriously, that old wyrm needs to get laid…." His mother doesn't stop speaking for a while now. It is quite a nice change of pace for the usually quiet Arlinn.

And consider that the only time she talks that long was yesterday when she lectured him in a subject he didn't want to hear. He even tuned out of that conversation a dozen times. At least this one did not make his cheeks burn so much.

"Focus, Arlinn. Stick to the topic." Said Tamiyo. By being a recorder of planar history, she is a very good listener. It makes her bring out many unusual behaviors from her friends. "You are drifting off again."

"All went well for about a year after Vol and Narset showed up. Jon grows at a rapid pace with their help so I'm thankful. So, I THANK them." His mother twirls her spear. "Then one day Sorin show up and command us to hunt down a necromancer planeswalker in his backyard. And here we are because my naïve son had sold his freedom to that old vampire."

"Oh." Tamiyo's respond is short and unemotional. She floats along with them through the dark forest. Her scrolls continue to write itself as usual. "And that's why you two cause a riot in the godforsaken town to help you track this necromancer?"

"That's quite a story actually. First we …." His mother continues their story but truthfully Jon stops paying attention quite a while ago.

So, he got up and walked around. The plants here are different. He doesn't care that much but it helps take his mind off things.

Wait. Something is happening.

Jon senses tingle as he feels a slight shock on his forehead. His hairs stand up even when the air is not that cold. He hears the call although he couldn't make out the words. It is faint and powerless. Barely noticeable.

What is this? He could only wonder.

"Do you feel it, boy?" The dragon inside him breaks the silence. "Good. Save us trouble."

"What do you mean?" His mother and her friend seem to not notice it, so he has to be careful.

"Someone starts worshipping you. They even sacrifice in your name. What you get is power from their pathetic ritual." The dragon mocked. "Truth be told, it's not much. Even we receive a million more it will still be a firefly to the sun of a power we once held at our zenith. Even at our current state, it is not worth mentioning compared to what you can tap from the plane."

"What!" Jon internally screams. How could he become a reason for people to kill each other? He has suffered as a bastard for eight years before his spark ignited, why does he still be a scapegoat for their failures? Granted, he spent half of those eight years in nursery, but that's not the point. "We should stop them then."

"And why would you do that? What they do does not concern you. You should concentrate on the matter at hand boy. A necromancer planeswalker should not be underestimate least you want to join her undead army." The dragon disapproves. "Our power has yet to return in full. I cannot save us when the true danger comes like the last time. Every little bit of power might differentiate life from death."

"Fine." Jon sighs and continues walking in silence.

Arlinn and Tamiyo continue talking after Jon got off and left. They sat at a small tea table in the garden. At their backs are a miniature waterfall decorated with flowers and aquatic plants. In the background, birds are chirping while flapping their vibrant wings. The sun shines bright as the cloud is below them. How can they still breath is a mystery, but the answer is probably magic.

She still prefers Innistrad to this place though. Everything here is so happy, it's annoying.

"… And that's how we plan to draw our target out. Kill the lowly thugs to catch the thrall attention. Then kill the thralls to gain then attention of their vampire master. Then kill the vampires to work up their chain until we confront our target." Arlinn's story was like her personality: simple, straight to the point, and filled to the brim with violence. "Then you showed up and somehow a dragon swooped down and burnt our target to ash. Lucky me."

"Hmm. Okay." Tamiyo sighs. "A bit anticlimactic but workable, I guess. I am going to put that in unlikely events category."

"Well. I could lie to add more flavor to the story if you want, Tamiyo." Arlinn laughs. "But since we are talking about our assignment. Do you have any information about a planeswalking necromancer on Innistrad?"

She leans forward and grabs Tamiyo hand. "If Sorin realizes the danger this necromancer poses, he should have known all about her already. Which means this is a test for Jon. I should not hold his hand more than I already have, or it will reflect badly on his capability. If he performs well enough, Sorin should grant him enough freedom to operate on his own, and we won't have an ancient vampire breathing down on our neck."

Arlinn's voice is sincere and her concern seems genuine. At least to the eyes of the observer. "I need your help on this Tamiyo, so please don't use the remain neutral excuse."

But Tamiyo knows that not all the reasons Arlinn need her help. She knows an underhand scheme when she heard one. Too bad, she doesn't have enough reason to say no to a friend for this small matter. Not when she has the answer they seek.

Damn her good conscience and upstanding nature.

"Alright, I will help. This is for Jon, not for you. His life is bad enough having you as a mother." Tamiyo jests. She sips her tea and takes a deep breath. "I know who you seek."

"You do?!" Jon appears behind Tamiyo's back without any sound. His sneakiness is unreal. Then again, no one had the training he had. "Thank you lady Tamiyo. Thank you."

"JEEZE! How did you get here?" Tamiyo screams in surprise. Shocked, her face pales even more than usual and her breath became heavy. Her scrolls are in shamble as all the brushes stroke wildly, ruining the texts on it. "Don't do that again."

*Whine*

"Jon is trained to walk softly and carry a big spear" Arlinn chuckles. "Don't you, Jon?"

"If you call getting beat by uncle Vol and aunt Narset that, then yes mother." Jon takes a deep breath and exhales, mimicking what Tamiyo did earlier.

"If you didn't get caught as much as you did, then it would not be much beating, Jon." Arlinn takes a sip from her hot water because anything that contains caffeine is a poison to their kind. It is another downside for being a werewolf, that and a bane of their life that is chocolate. "Anyway, who is this planeswalker we need to hunt down?"

Headache is what Tamiyo prefers to describe the state she currently in. She knew it. She absolutely knew that the mother and son would bring her trouble. There is an unwritten rule among the planeswalker to not interfere with each other affair. Sure, it is a rule that everyone seems to break whenever they want to, but that never ends well for anyone. What would you do to an entity that can go anywhere in the multiverse at any time? Who doesn't have anyone they care for and how could one be sure that their loved ones are safe?

She needs insurance. Her stakes are higher than them than any planeswalkers she knows so far.

"I need you to swear that whatever I tell you, the conversation doesn't happen." Her face becomes serious, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the mother and son duo.

"It's that serious? This necromancer is that dangerous?" Arlinn raises her eyebrows.

She nods.

"Alright, I swear. We didn't hear it from you." Arlinn gives her words. Jon nods and says the same.

"The necromancer's name is Liliana Vess. A human from Dominaria. She arrived many days ago when I study the cloud." Tamiyo brings forth a scroll from her rack. "The moment she landed on Innistrad, I noticed that the plane reacted to her arrival. She carried an artifact with an immense power that is supposed to be locked on Shandalar so I did some digging."

She unfolds the scroll that is labeled "The Chain Veil". "The Chain Veil is supposed to reside in a tomb of an ancient ogre race. The artifact itself is ancient, likely a pre-mending era. It is believed to grant the wearer a near unlimited source of black mana, the same way a Mox Jet does, but with a downside of eventually turning its wearer into a demon."

"But this necromancer doesn't? How come?" Asked Arlinn.

"That I don't know. From what I gathered about Liliana Vess, it seems she had an encounter with another demon previously before using the power of the Chain Veil to kill him. For what reason, I don't know either. But if I have to guess, she might want to do the same thing." Tamiyo put the scroll back in the rack and brings out another. This time it is the map of Innistrad. "She is a pre-mending planeswalker, albeit her spark had been ignited a few decades prior to the mending itself. There is a high possibility that she seeks to restore the power that she lost. Killing a powerful demon might be one of her way considering she aligns herself heavily on black mana. If that so, you might want to look into what is going on around Thraben."

"The Helvault." Jon uttered.

"Elaborate, Jon." Arlinn turns toward her son. Satisfied with his answer perhaps. Then it dawns on her. Arlinn is guiding her son to take charge, probably. There is also an equal chance that she is too lazy to share what she thought.

"Didn't you tell me that Helvault is the place the church used to lock away the demons and other enemies they defeat but cannot destroy? What if she wants to release whatever locked inside?" Jon's words are slow and steady. His voice is cold. "What if she unleashes everything that is locked inside?"

"Then Innistrad is fucked and Sorin had us to blame." Arlinn retorts in an equally cold voice. "It will be one hell of a fight, though."

The mother and son look at each other, nod. No words were exchanged. Tamiyo knows that look. Shit is about to go down, and she will have another worthy story to record.

"Before you two go, I want you to be the uttermost careful." Said Tamiyo.

"Oh. I'm glad that you care." Arlinn reaches forward and scratches her chin. She was fast, Tamiyo has to give her that. The scratches go for two rounds before she can yank her chin out of the werewolf reach.

"Damn it Arlinn." Tamiyo sighs as she regains her composure. "Seriously, be careful. I heard that Garruk is after her as well. As you know, he doesn't like sharing his prey."

There are three planeswalkers that everyone agrees not to be fucked with.

The first one is Garruk. He eats a wrum for breakfast, controls a horde of beasts, and good at tracking his prey and hunt them down. He also a hunk of muscles and his muscles have muscles of its own. Once he is after you, then you can run but you cannot hide.

The second is the Wanderer. No one has ever seen her face nor known her name, but everyone recognized her. She always wears a green conical hat that hides her entire head but a white long hair. Her skill with a blade is said to be the deadliest and most efficient seen on any plane. A hit from her spell-bounded sword and you are banished in-between space, possibly a blind eternity itself. The worse thing is that you cannot even hide from her if she comes for you. She could track your location long after you planeswalk away.

The third is the most mysterious. No one knows who he was. No one knows where he was from. No one knows what he wants. All that they know was his signature weapon, of which become his name: The Machete. Some say he is a dinosaur in a human form. Some say he was a vampire bartender before his spark ignited. Some say he is a ghoul vaquero who lost his entire family. Some say you should not talk about him least he comes for you.

"Then Garruk better not hunt in my territory without my permission. His self-proclaimed status as the apex predator lies solely on not meeting us yet." Arlinn slams her spear on the ground. She looks at her son and nods.

Yes, this is a homage to Danny Trejo's MTGA commercial. As he said, and I quote. "Llanowar Elf turn one, turn two Grow from the Ashes, turn three Giantosauraus. That's how you do it!"

Custom Card of the Chapter

Name: The Machete

Cost: 3B

Type: Legendary Creature – Human

Card Text:

When The Machete enters the battlefield, target creature gets -5/-5 until end of turn. If that creature dies, destroy target creature or planeswalker an opponent control.

R, The Machete becomes a Vampire and gains lifelink until end of turn.

G, The Machete becomes a Dinosaur and gains trample until end of turn.

W, The Machete becomes a zombie and gains deaththouch until end of turn.

1, Regenerate The Machete

Flavor Text: "Machete improvises."

P/T: 4/2

Rarity: Mythic Rare