Magic Journal #3 or Ravnica’s Rewards

The Flash.

I’m still not used to that infernal flash.

Nor the nausea that soon follows. I wonder if the folding of reality will ever feel normal to me.

Those I hide amongst on this plane called Earth have informed me that the month is September; although it feels like a thousand years since I was last upon this mundane and confused world.

The leaves upon the trees are turning brilliant colors forming an orange and red canopy over the quiet streets.

It feels like the calm before the storm.

Soon those leaves will perish, passing from a state of life to a state of death. Decaying so as to produce new and varied life. Dying so others might live.

Then the snows will fall and this plane will retreat into hibernation. I plan to be far from here when that happens.

My recent travels, if I were to explain them in linear terms, have led me from Innistrad out into the Blind Eternities. As I searched ever more diligently for the occult meaning behind my abilities I came across a twisted sorcerer who wailed and gashed his teeth.

Telling of the doom of all.

Silently screaming one chilling word.

EMRAKUL.

This sorcerer, when pressed with a Gitaxian Prob, revealed to me that his master had tricked him into releasing a horror beyond horrors from its prison upon the plane of Zendikar.

He told me that all of existence would soon be annihilated and that to hope was to feed oneself to the lords of ignorance.

Further mental interrogation revealed to me the name of this poor wretches master.

Nicol Bolas.

A name I had heard before.

If this twisted puppet master truly desired the end of eternity he must be in possession of boundless knowledge. Perhaps even the information that I sought. Or so I told myself.

It took what felt like an age to locate even a shred of evidence pertaining to the whereabouts of this Elder Dragon. When I did I was unprepared for what was to come.

Bolas revealed himself to me as I searched for him though the Blind Eternities. He came to me in waking dreams taunting my feeble attempts to track him. However he always beckoned me to continue my search. For I am the seeker, or so he told me in my nightmares.

When finally I found him it felt as though he had manipulated every minute detail of the encounter down to ground upon which I stood. The planet on which we faced each other, it’s seven glorious moons orbiting in an intricate and calculated manner, is unknown in name to me.

Bolas laughed when I told him of my meeting with his sorceror puppet, saying “Sarkhan is a fool, but a useful fool to be sure“.

Those words still haunt me. I feel that they were aimed more at me than at the poor wretch I now know as Sarkhan.

The dragon, Bolas, told me that he knew why I sought him out. He promised me the answer to all my burning questions, I had but do one thing on his behalf.
My thirst for knowledge outweighed my common sense on that day I am afraid, for I promised to do his one task in exchange for the lore that might sate my rabid hunger.

Go to the Plane of Ravnica. Find for me ten Keyrunes and return them here. That is all that I ask.

Now be gone

With that he banished me from his presence.

The twisting vortex. The rush of scalding heat and frigid cold all at once. The streaming stars passing by as though they were a brilliant rushing river.

Those are the last things I remember before the Flash. It seems to me as though Nichol Bolas possesses power beyond what I had believed possible. If he is indeed as powerful as I now suspect, I fear I must obey his request if I am to fill this burning void I have for the wisdom that I seek.

Luckily for me I have been to Ravnica in the past and know of several shortcuts to its shinning spires and world spanning roadways.

I will return to these pages when convenience next arises,

88’s
~ LC

The Flash.

It seems as though I miscalculated my Walk. I had anticipated appearing in some dark alley in tenth district, instead I came to in the decaying underbelly of the sprawling City of Guilds.

Golgari territory. It was evident immediately. A dangerous place to appear unannounced and worse yet, uninvited.

The odor leaves much to be desired. A sickly sweet smell of death and the rebirth that comes with it. It did help to disguise the stench of the loose contents of my stomach that spilled upon the ground after the Flash faded from memory, however.

I decided to make my way cautiously through the sluice ways relying on an old cloak that I always carry with me for such occasions. This has kept me safe from most forms of detection thus far.

Using my hidden vantage point I explored the depths of the sewers for several hours observing all manner of vermin, insects, scorpions and reptiles that roam these tunnels and catacombs. The long forgotten areas of Ravnica.

As I moved slowly through the dank and darkened passageways I was filled with a feeling of disorientation. I have never been good with directions and what little skills I possess in regards to navigating are all but dashed when caught underground.

After stumbling upon a sudden juncture in the vast maze-like network of the Ravnican underbelly I spotted the tell tale sign of the Golgari Swarm. To my left stood a gate covered in creeping vines that seemed to be almost alive, and visible just beneath those vines was the Golgari Sigil. Faded by the long passage of time and exposure to the elements, but unmistakeable in its Insectesque appearance.

Suddenly a sound from my right startled me. I quickly turned to see what had made it and the sight that I beheld was grotesque to say the least.

Emerging from the tunnel directly opposite the Guildgate came the lumbering form of what can only be described as a zombified troll. Its hulking frame hunched and its movements jarring yet purposeful. In its hands it held the dripping insides of some unfortunate wretch upon which it feasted. The look in its decaying eyes betrayed something not possessed by the standard mindless thrull, it seemed to possess a most uncanny intellect for a creature bound to life through the magic of undeath.

The zombie troll lumbered toward the Guildgate forcing me to vacate the place I had occupied, I had no desire for the brute to stumble upon me and trample me into the fungus covered ground.

The creatures purposeful movements made me realize that it was heading somewhere deeper within the decaying realm of the Golgari. I decided to follow it for I assumed it might lead me to that which I seek, a Keyrune of the Golgari.

I followed the rotting animated corpse down the twisting tunnels until we reached what I assume to be a Rot Farm. A place of decay and of growth. A staple location with in the Golgari’s holdings. It was here that the zombie troll stopped, discarding the remnants of its gnawed meal and taking purchase on the ground.

From out of one of the buildings located at the heart of the Rot Farm a pale looking humanoid emerged. It moved at a quick pace toward the creature I had followed, in its hand it held what looked to be more rotting food for the beast. The Zombie Troll eagerly ate the offering and the Elven humanoid turned and made its way back in the direction it came from.

It was at this point that fatigue began to spread through every fiber of my being. I scanned my surroundings and settled on the place I now rest. The place where I write this entry.

I must stop writing now and rest my travel weary mind if I am to be at my best come what can only be assumed to be morning. For when I wake I intend to continue the task that Bolas set before me.

Until the voice calls me back,

88’s
~ LC

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About thestrollingbones

Liche like in appearance and Troubadour-esque in outlook. Cosmic Gypsy and aspect of Yggdrasil. Spacey Rambler, Thought~form Gambler, MetaMynd Scrambler
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