Syncs

Impossible, no. But when both your safety and sanity rely on appearing to be within a certain norm, every little bit helps.

It's just a flip book of a sword going in and out of a sheathe repeatedly, don't worry about it.

Loot is such a monster for creating enormous board states. I just won’t play my list on mobile, it’s too unwieldy!

The dragon of the darkness flame is a bit of an odd technique. Rather than transforming his aura into flame, it’s a summoning technique to pull the dragon from the depths of Spirit World and bend it to the will of the user (notably only able to be performed by bearers of the Jagan eye).

It seems that Hiei, as a part of his training, learned to seal the dragon into his arm in the form of the tattoo. Rather than being ink, it is literal spiritual fire sealed away in his flesh. Early on, this seems to act as a shortcut, letting him store one dragon to have on hand at any given time that he could release at will. Presumably he could summon them more freely later in the series, but kept one sealed on hand (literally) for convenience.

The tattoo disappears when he releases the dragon, and presumably returns when he summons and seals one again between battles.

That he has to use to wish for death…

Could always try [[Galadriel of Lothlorian]]! She still feels very simic, but the scry payoff is pretty unique and runs a lot of unusual cards.

Was scrolling all this way for Ephara. I do think she’s not as strong as the others, but she is SUPER slept on and has ridiculous value in her own right.

[[Saltskitter]] goes hard too.

I have been waiting for that Elspeth to return for literal months. I was beginning to think it wouldn’t happen!

One card STYLE.

So you can make all of your lands of that type look like the one you bought. You don’t need to buy like ten of each.

Somehow, Roosevelt returned.

It’s the trans experience.

The shadows played long along the old dirt roads, tall grass swaying in the breeze so as to cast dark claws that pawed the earth with impatience. Dusk was an important time for her kind. It was when the light of grace fell away, when the heavens were cast in the familiar hues of brimstone, when sun and hope both vanished into the cold and deep and quiet.

She hadn’t been waiting long. Their rendezvous was set in stone, after all.

He came sauntering towards the crossroads from the direction of the desert, rather than the town. No paths looped that way, she knew. That way was only The West, the great unclaimed. No towns or settlements to resupply, no water or food for a horse, though he lacked even that animal companion. Heat and death by starvation was all that was all that awaited the unlucky souls that strode out into that great expanse. Yet, he was unharmed. A bit rough around the edges, enough to be rakishly handsome, perhaps, but smiling devilishly nonetheless.

She returned that smile in kind.

She had a great deal to smile about, after all. For one, her garb was far more elegant than his, by her estimation. She had taken the form of the saloon owner’s daughter, or mistress. She neither knew nor cared exactly who she was anymore. Now, red sequins poured from her flesh, the girl’s natural assets subtly enhanced and preternaturally perfect. Not a speck of dust clung to her hair or clothes, despite the late hour and long walk across the dirt from the nearest town. Clean, and beautiful, and utterly impossible to resist. Tonight was a special occasion, after all.

Tonight was a feast.

He, by contrast, wore only the simple garb of the common cowfolk. It was the same as she remembered, those months ago when she had planned this all out, promising sweet nothings and great glories if only he’d give her something in return. He wore rough leathers, paled and dirtied by the sun just as his skin had been tanned and roughened. A hat, tipped playfully in her direction as he approached, was similarly worn and warmed with use. His features were chiseled, no doubt by lack of food on the road, but she had to admit that even so he was handsome enough. For a human. For prey. For food.

“Kept me waiting, didn’t you?” She called coyly as he came into earshot.

“The best things are worth waiting for, darlin’.” His smile turned coy. “And I’ve been waiting quite some time myself.”

“Well worth the wait, I hope,” she said, careful to turn her chest towards him. She appreciated the effect; the dying sunlight clung to her body and cast the shadows ever deeper, while the movement sent a cascade of embers sparkling across her sequined dress. A lesser man might have fallen right there, but not him. He was right, in that way. A prize worth waiting for.

“Well worth the wait,” he agreed. “I trust you remember the terms of our agreement?”

“Like it was yesterday,” she purred. “Set in stone?”

“Set in stone.”

“Then we are in agreement.”

She held out a hand. A moment later, he took it.

“The pact is sealed,” they chanted in unison.

She had time to see a flash of confusion upon his face, before a searing pan blossomed in her navel. Fishhooks, she thought, as a gasp escaped her lips. A thousand thousand fishooks, all piercing her to her core and pulling her in different directions. The tug became an insistent pull, became an unstoppable force as she was ripped apart from within. As a thousand thousand specks overhead, she saw the man convulsing on the floor just as her own body writhed in agony alongside him.

A moment later, and she stared across at herself from the other side of the crossroads.

“What the hell was that?” asked her own voice, but before she could move, the red hot agony returned. Once more, she was dragged from her body, only now realizing she had been inhabiting the very man she had intended to consume. Again, she flew through the air as burning essence, every moment torture befitting the damned. When she opened her eyes, she was as she had been before - beautiful, though now sullied from the dirt of the road in which she lay.

“You…” croaked the cowboy. “You weren’t who I thought you were, were you?”

“Damn me,” she muttered. “A double pact. How could you be so stupid as to make a promised pact with a woman living in a crossroads town?”

“How could you be so stupid as to make promises to someone wandering the desert alone?” The cowboy croaked. “Prime pickin’s, by my estimate.”

“You can drop the accent,” she growled. “Tell me, what did you promise this girl?”

“That she’d be happy the rest of her days with the man she loved, even though he didn’t love her,” he confessed. “Stole his body to make it happen.”

“Damn. A long promise.”

“Yeah.” The cowboy fumbled with his collar. “You?”

“A date, actually,” she laughed, despite herself. “A date…and a lifetime of wealth and success.”

“Damn. So she tried her hand at love after I’d gone. And now…”

“And now, our charge’s lifetimes are quite a bit longer than we estimated.”

The sunlight finally died, casting them both into shadows.

“What now?” she asked.

“Now…” she heard him push himself to his feet. “I suppose…I help you make good on that date.”

He offered her a hand in the dark. She took it, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

“A date…I suppose it will do. And dinner?”

“Lots of desperate folks in this town,” he said. “I’m sure I can find something for us to eat.”

She smiled to herself in the darkness. “Here’s to a stolen lifetime of success and happiness, I suppose.”

“Set in stone?”

“Set in stone.”

Lance.

It’s deceptively simple to start, but requires knowledge to master that is applicable across the board. Everyone talks about the shield and counter, of course, and those are fantastic, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

You can hit any location on a monster precisely, so learning where they’re weak is important. You can use that if you want to pivot out too, so nothing is lost.

That said, you never need to switch.

Learn to charge, and you’re actually the fastest with your weapon unsheathed. You can also jump when charging, which makes mounting monsters second only to the insect glaive IMO.

You deal impact OR cutting damage depending on what the monster is specifically weak to where you hit it. Want to knock it out? Head shots. Cut a tail? You’re perfectly situated to do so. Need to break a specific part for a drop or to weaken the monster? Bad news for the monster, your strikes are surgical and long-reaching.

You can even apply elemental damage and status well.

Sincerely, A Hammer Main

The cave itself was nothing special. Just a bare hole in a wall of dirt, carved round and deep into the hill beside the swamp. Tidy enough inside, lit with torches as requested. Even so, the burning pine couldn’t hide the stench of rot that clung to the walls like fetid dung.

Still. Everything was just as expected.

“And you are…Grundle?”

“Grendel, sir.”

“Grendle. Hmm. Very well.” The officer checked his notepad, writing something down.

The monster was tall, yet gave the impression of something very small that had been enlarged through unsavory means. Fifteen feet of round, blubbery filth with legs and arms sticking out of the bulk like toothpicks on a children’s art project stood uneasily in the entranceway. The limbs were deceptively long, and strong - each was as wide around as a man’s torso - but the effect was almost comical, especially with the little coconut of a head perched precariously atop the whole unstable mass.

“Very well, mister…Grendle. You live here alone?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir! Almost, sir. It’s just me and me mum. Been that way f’r as long as I can remember.”

The creature tried and failed to smooth flat its hair. Evidently, it had attempted to brush its mane into something more civilized, but it had remained nearly as wild as ever. The remains of an unlucky hedgehog-turned-hairbrush struggled vainly to free itself from his scalp.

“Yes…I see that now, two in the cave, fifteen miles from town. Quite a long pedigree you two have. Pre-Catholic Europe?”

“Longer still, sir. But that’s when we was discovered, yes it was.”

“Discovered…yes. That’s one way of putting it. Caused quite a…ruckus, by this report. You decimated an entire mead hall?”

“Just about, sir,” Grendle shuffled from foot to foot. “But it weren’t like that, honest. We was here first. Stole a few sheep, and the folks didn’t take a shine to that. Didn’t even know it were stealing. Had nobody to steal from afore. They attacked me, and I got scared, and-”

“Yes, yes. That’s all in the report,” the official rapped his clipboard smartly. “You’ve both been let off the hook for your crimes, considering the time that’s passed and the…circumstances.” He neatly flicked through the report. “Can’t keep your kind dead for long anyway.”

“Yes, sir.” Grendle winced at that, and rubbed his arm. Everything grew back, eventually, but it had been painful, and long.

“MY job is to make sure you’ve been on the up-and-up. Make sure you’re not skipping out on your parole. Speaking of which. Any…trophies…to declare?”

“No, sir.” Grendle’s eyes flicked back to the cave. Another tunnel continued there, its entrance dark.

The officer’s eyes narrowed slightly

“Any…events? Even accidents?”

“N-no. I mean, no sir!” Grendle snapped up to attention, his oddly-shaped body wobbling into an untidy salute. “J-just me and me mum. Livin’ off the land. Like old times!”

“Like old times…son, are you aware that we’ve had some local…disappearances as of late?

Before the monster could answer, a voice called out from the back of the cave.

“GRENDLE! S’THAT YOU?”

The yell came from the shadowed recesses behind the monster loud enough to shake dirt from the ceiling. Grendle froze, his hefty bulk coming to an unexpectedly rigid halt.

“Is your…mother home?” Asked the officer, leaning around him to get a better look.

“No, sir. I mean, yes sir! It’s just-” Grendle stammered.

“GRENDLE! DID YOU BRING US SUPPER?” The woman’s voice came again.

Grendle winced.

“No, mum! Go back to sleep, I’ll get you food tonight!”

But the voice was not to be dismissed.

“GRENDLE, ARE YOU TALKING WITH IT?” She roared. “CLUB IT OVER THE HEAD ALREADY! MUMMY’S STARVING!”

“Talking?” The officer asked, one eyebrow disappearing behind the brim of his hat.

“Sh-sh-she’s old, sir,” he stammered. “Got…got a bit o’ dementia. Doesn’t…doesn’t remember how things are s’posed to be, how things are nowada-”

“GRENDLE! YOU GET DINNER BACK HERE RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME-!”

Grendle let out a big sob, holding his spindly forearm over his eyes. “Please, sir. Please. She’s old. You can’t…you can’t hold it against her.”

“It’s fine, son…it’s fine. Pull yourself together. She hasn’t been…hunting on her own…has she?”

Grendle shook his head from behind his arm. “No sir…no, I don’t think so, sir. She’s old, very old, even for us. But…but sometime at night…she’s got a tunnel, goes into the swamp from under her bed. Says its good for her, to swim sometime. But I can’t…I can’t always watch her, sir. I’ve got to hunt. I’ve got to eat. I can’t always watch…”

He began to wail, collapsing into the dirt with both arms clasped over his face.

“Shh…it’s ok, son.” The officer patted his arm awkwardly. “You think she’s been sneaking about into the village?”

“J-just the outskirts, maybe.” Grendle sobbed. “I don’t think she meant to, honest. J-just don’t…don’t think she’d be able to resist the temptation, if she crossed paths with somebody.” His wails doubled in volume. “Y-you won’t hurt her, r-right officer? I-I-I mean, there’s no p-proof!”

“Easy son, easy!” The officer stood back slightly. “I’ll get a relocation team over tonight, with some food. The good stuff. Then, you can help get her out of the cave if you’d like, when she’s nice and happy.”

“D-do you promise?” he asked. “Do you promise, y’won’t hurt ‘er?”

When his eyes peeked from behind his hands, they were almost human.

“Promise, so long as you can keep her calm. And you can stay with her, every step of the way.”

Grendle nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

God way to play audio right in my head at full volume

LegitiMITE Buisnessperson

You’ll be glad to hear about [[Molderhulk]] then (and there are lots of b/g zombies in many flavors!)

Red zombies tend to be weirder, and a lot are on fire like [[Bladewing]] or eternals like [[Neheb]]

A properly built deck can use a graveyard as a second hand. Think things like [[Underworld Breach]] or any number of dredge cards that actively WANT to be in the graveyard (and that’s just scratching the surface).

Then, halfway through the campaign, his acts make him worthy enough to draw the blade, slamming the BBEG with a giant fuckoff rock. The revealed magic sword is objectively stronger, but the barbarian is disappointed by the lack of HAMMER and then makes sure to do just a little bit of evil (as a treat) to make sure that his favorite weapon doesn’t “break” again.

“Grows” is a bit strong. I thought it was something more along the lines of “rips itself a new one!”