Flavorful Origins

Posted on February 18, 2015

Ever since I was a kid, I have wanted to be a writer. Figuring out that simple fact may have taken me longer than most (almost twenty years), but the signs were definitely there while I was growing up. Writing in school was always a chore, akin to homework, something to be completed quickly so that I could return to the 32-bit world of Hyrule or bury my nose in a fantasy novel. It was not until my first experience with Dungeons & Dragons that I discovered how writing could be a form of creative relief. I will never forget the day my cousin came to visit, toting a large hardback book the cover of which looked like a magical tome crafted from the hide of a dragon, sealed with what could only be the eye of a cyclops. Immediately, I found myself needing to know what was contained within the pages of that book. I took it from my cousin and pored over the countless monsters contained within.

“What on earth is this!?” I said, never taking my eyes off the art-filled pages.

Pulling out two more sibling tomes from his backpack titled Players Handbook and Dungeon Master’s Guide, he replied:

“This . . . is D&D.”

Original image found here

I was in fifth grade, and that night, I pulled an unused mead copybook from my schoolbag—you know, the black, marbled-cover ones—and I began writing down ideas for characters, monsters, swords, and armor: anything I could use the next time I saw my cousin. Like a dam the wall of which had just been shattered, my mind emptied itself into this little notebook until I had filled over half its pages. That was the first time I can remember enjoying writing. It was the first time I started creatively exploring my world, dissecting it for bits of information that I could use for my own designs. It was the moment I had discovered my thing.

Flavorful Inspirations

Magic: The Gathering flavor text comes in all shapes and sizes, and I truly do enjoy them all, whether they be quotable, snarky one liners meant to be read aloud as I cast them or delicately-crafted parables meant to make me sit back and think.

What I enjoy even more are lines of world-building text: those lines that create deeper levels of immersion and depth in the planes Wizards of the Coast’s creative team works so tirelessly to create, drawing us into these worlds that feel almost real. They’re worlds that make you feel that, if you try hard enough, you could reach out and touch them.

The one thing I love about Magic that other games do not deliver is the sense of wonder, exploration, and imagination the Multiverse offers you. By its very nature, the Multiverse is an infinite expanse of countless worlds just waiting to be discovered. That open-ended unknown (similar to the vastness of our own universe) is what really grabbed me as a young Vorthos. I loved finding cards that offered just enough information to set your brain on fire, leading you to wonder what worlds could contain such intriguing characters and forms of magic.

When I first read Brittle Effigy, I found myself wanting to know more about Rocati, Duke of Martyne. I wanted to know what kind of life this young noble leads that would cause him to experiment with such dangerous magics. Was he perhaps the duke of a dark citadel, one where the inhabitants openly practice the dark arts of necromancy? Or was he Duke of a knightly empire, secretly practicing his foul acts in some dark corner of his vast estate?

When I saw the card Blood Tithe, I wanted to know what this “Crimson Throne” was, who sat on it, and where all that blood was coming from. Was this the gilded chair of a vampire king? Did those troughs lead to torture chambers housed high up in some remote castle towers? Why is one of the cups knocked over and the throne now empty? Perhaps there was a coup, some form of uprising that led to the downfall of this vampire king. Perhaps one of the prisoners from the torture room has escaped and is leading a revolt, freeing the other captives and taking over the castle.

The above cards offer enough to make my brain teeter on the brink of a full-on flavor meltdown. These are anthropomorphic salamander people, something we have not seen yet on any plane. They seem capable of being both wizards and rogues, which is interesting, and they are apparently cryptic enough that they can hide their existence from other beings while building their society in secret. Also, what on earth are the Cryptohistories!? I could write an entire book inspired by these two cards alone.

This summer, Magic will see the release of its final core set with Magic Origins. While I am extremely excited for the release of this landmark set (it was my first set working as a freelance names-and-flavor-text writer for Wizards), I am also sad to see the core set go. As Magic has grown over the years, the creative team has worked hard to bring us some absolutely breathtaking worlds. Between Theros, Innistrad, Tarkir, Zendikar, and Mirrodin (New Phyrexia), Vorthoses have been exposed to a multitude of diverse cultures and creatures inhabiting those planes. However, there was always one thing the core set offered us that those settings did not: the opportunity for cards like the ones above, which offered but a brief glimpse into worlds we have yet to see—worlds we may never see—on our travels throughout the Multiverse.

My question is, now that the core set is gone from us, what would the best place for these types of flavor texts be? An obvious answer is in supplemental releases, and products like Planechase seem ideal places to plant little bits of flavor about unknown worlds. Perhaps one of the Planeschase decks could be based completely on the flavor of a plane we have never been to. Commander could also be used as a way to explore unknown worlds. Imagine if the Ghave, Guru of Spores Commander deck were printed with a few cards that had flavor texts referencing his/her/its home world, providing just enough to get your grey matter churning.

Another area the creative team can take advantage of in order to showcase far-off places is through the Planeswalkers. Introducing us to characters such as Ashiok, Nightmare Weaver instills a sense of wonder and intrigue, making players wonder about the characters origins.

What I am curious about most of all is: How much does it really matter?

In other words, am I one of a small subset of fans who cares about these little flavor nuggets? Should Wizards even spend the time/money/resources to focus on creating art/flavor text/cards for these one-off planes simply for the sake of creating this sense of infinite wonder, or should they focus their resources on the many planes that they have already established? Are the existing planes enough to showcase the vastness of the Multiverse, or should there be other cards created to help continue to drive home the fact that it is not just a small collection of known planes, but a vast pool of infinite locations? What do you think?

[poll id="506"]

Flavor Contest

A few weeks ago, I wrote a short story about a particularly greedy dragon named Auriferous. At the end of the article, I asked you all to submit ideas for flavor text for one of the following card alters that tied into the overall story:

Of all of the submissions sent in, the ones below were determined to be the best of the best. I now leave it up to you all to decide on the winner. Here are your finalists:

Phylactery Lich 1

Are we all not shadows of our deepest desires?

Phylactery Lich 2

Auriferous stared at his mountain of riches. “Who will watch over you all when I am no longer of this world?” Glancing at the tome by his side and the sigil in his claw, his question was answered.