“Wha–Where am I?”

A deep voice resonated, coming from every direction at once. “Patience, Marton Stromgald; it is unwise to rush into unknown situations.”

Márton chuckled. “A jibe at my present battle tactics, I presume.”

“Humor . . . good, I prefer that to cowering.”

“I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I’ve got people to lead. Return me at once.”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible. Your adversary would kill you and make you his own, but I have other uses for your skills.”

“I would be hard-pressed to call your present manner endearing.”

The room filled with deep, melodious laughter. “I think you’ll quite enjoy my, ahem, machinations once they’re underway.”

“Forgive me my . . . skepticism.”

“To what end?”

“To pit you against others in similar positions, of course.”

“All for your sick amusement? Charming.”

“Heavens, no. I myself am fighting a much larger and subtler war, and I require a second in command. Think of it as a competition.”

“And should I refuse your magnanimous offer?”

“You won’t.”

“Oh? Pray tell, oh mighty and mysterious patron mine, how can you say that I will not refuse?”

“Because I have seen your troops.”

Strom the Castle

• Commander (0)

• A Token of my Appreciation (25)
• 1 Chancellor of the Forge
• 1 Elemental Mastery
• 1 Empty the Warrens
• 1 Emrakul's Hatcher
• 1 Firecat Blitz
• 1 Goblin Marshal
• 1 Goblin Offensive
• 1 Goblin Rally
• 1 Krenko, Mob Boss
• 1 Myr Battlesphere
• 1 Myr Propagator
• 1 Myr Turbine
• 1 Orochi Hatchery
• 1 Rakka Mar
• 1 Rapacious One
• 1 Siege-Gang Commander
• 1 Skittering Invasion
• 1 Snake Basket
• 1 Summoning Station
• 1 Thopter Assembly
• 1 Trading Post
• 1 Warbreak Trumpeter
• 1 Mogg Infestation
• 1 Spawning Pit
• 1 Wurmcoil Engine

• In Force (13)
• 1 Angel's Trumpet
• 1 Akroma's Memorial
• 1 Anger
• 1 Legion Loyalist
• 1 Eldrazi Monument
• 1 Rabble-Rouser
• 1 Tears of Rage
• 1 Avatar of Slaughter
• 1 Rage Reflection
• 1 Savage Beating
• 1 World at War
• 1 Aggravated Assault
• 1 Breath of Fury

• Head and Shoulders (7)
• 1 Bravado
• 1 Pennon Blade
• 1 Veteran's Armaments
• 1 Junkyo Bell
• 1 Darksteel Plate
• 1 Shield of Kaldra
• 1 Batterskull

• Fire in Your Heart (8)
• 1 Soul's Fire
• 1 Spikeshot Goblin
• 1 Spikeshot Elder
• 1 Stalking Vengeance
• 1 Soulblast
• 1 Volcanic Wind
• 1 Molten Primordial
• 1 Hoard-Smelter Dragon

• Draw Them Out (4)
• 1 Slate of Ancestry
• 1 Mind's Eye
• 1 Staff of Nin
• 1 Knollspine Dragon

• Homeland (42)
• 1 Wayfarer's Bauble
• 1 Expedition Map
• 1 Darksteel Ingot
• 1 Solemn Simulacrum
• 1 Urza's Factory
• 1 Kher Keep
• 1 Springjack Pasture
• 1 Miren, the Moaning Well
• 1 Valakut, the Molten Pinnacle
• 1 Spinerock Knoll
• 1 Buried Ruin
• 1 Blinkmoth Nexus
• 1 Dread Statuary
• 1 Ghitu Encampment
• 1 Mishra's Factory
• 1 Mutavault
• 1 Rogue's Passage
• 1 Winding Canyons
• 1 Mystifying Maze
• 1 Forgotten Cave
• 1 Smoldering Crater
• 1 Blasted Landscape
• 1 Dormant Volcano
• 1 Temple of the False God
• 1 Thawing Glaciers
• 17 Mountain

Buy This Deck

The Gald to Talk Back

If you’d asked him a month earlier, Márton Stromgald would have told you that undeath was an abomination that needed stamping out. His opinion on the matter hadn’t changed much, there simply hadn’t been any way to find him for such a chat.

The secretive being with no name had made things very clear. Márton would do his utmost to kill the other strategists plucked from across the multiverse for this competition or he would die at the hands of one more willing. Now that he thought on it, he acknowledged that “both” was likewise a possibility. No help for it now; contemplation could come afterward. Márton urged his mount to ride forward and addressed the assembled legions.

Assemble the Legion by Eric Deschamps

“I have no crafted battle plan, for I know not our enemy. I’ll be thinking on my feet, and I expect no less of any of you. That being said, when I give you an order, you follow it. No questions. They’ll be working to kill me, and that knowledge is our advantage. Now we ride!”

With that, a wild cheer rose up from the motley assembly: human howls, goblin shrieks, and the clacking of mechanical soldiers.

Myr Propagator by Ryan Pancoast

Márton Stromgald turned and rode into the arena to see two figures leading yet stranger forces.

Márton sputtered, “A three-way war!? What sort of madness is this?”

The all-too-familiar voice of his captor responded calmly. “Outmaneuvering a foe is child’s play. The artistry is in knowing whom to strike.”

There was a brief pause, and then: “Begin.”

It wasn’t as though the assembled forces leapt for one another’s throats. With a third party present, that course of action was tantamount to suicide. Brion Stoutarm slowly shook out a Darksteel Plate, and raising an eyebrow, Teysa motioned one of her envoy forward.

Márton deigned not to look like a threat and sent a troop to collect drip off the Thawing Glaciers, but Brion put the goblin in a Stranglehold.

“Won’t be having none of that,” the giant grumbled. As Márton turned to protest, Teysa lobbed her charging demon a Sword of War and Peace. Márton pitched off his mount, but he was too slow, and the demon dealt him a grievous wound across the thigh.

Apparently laying low was a known tactic. That called for a reversal.

The goblin attacked Teysa, Orzhov Scion but barely scratched her skin. Evidently satisfied with Márton’s impotence, Teysa sent her demon after Brion Stoutarm while she and her Vampire Nighthawk secured the stadium’s center.

In an act of Bravado, the Legion Loyalist bid his soldiers Empty the Warrens, but a flick of Brion’s bleeding hand sent the spell into a Wild Ricochet. Uncowed, the goblin charged into combat with Teysa’s Nighthawk while the Batterskull rammed Brion from behind.

Brion put on the Darksteel Plate he’d been holding and sent some of his newly acquired goblin troops after the Orzhov Scion. Unfazed, Teysa again sent Bloodgift Demon to attack Márton Stromgald. He regained his feet, and the Scion sneered, “Half-dead and still fighting?” Márton gritted his teeth. Teysa sighed, “Don’t fret—the other half will come soon enough.” With that, she raised her hand and strode away as her summons approached.

Márton wasted no time, ignoring his throbbing leg as he rushed past the approaching soldiers to rejoin his own troops. “All right,” he gasped, “here’s what we’re going to–”

Brion chose that moment to make his move.

Goblins swarmed Teysa, and she retreated to the Vault of the Archangel. Once inside, she sent her demonic captain to deal with Brion, and the soldiers surrounded Márton’s troupe.

“Now!” Márton roared. The Batterskull broke a hole in the soldiers’ ranks, and trailing after it, the goblins and Márton himself charged through and caught Teysa unawares. As she turned, Brion hefted the Chancellor of the Forge and lobbed it directly onto her, knocking Teysa to the ground. She lifted her head, and then her eyes went wide. Márton whirled around to look.

Brion’s eyes had rolled back in his monstrous head and dark power poured out of him and into the strange pod that stood before him.

The pod opened, and Brion yanked the misshapen form out of it before knocking the now-rising Teysa back to the ground with a second expertly placed throw. Márton moved to strike a lethal blow, but with a snarl, Teysa’s ever faithful demon hit him from behind.

Márton had been planning on it. He rolled with the attack and came to his feet running, goblins and germs forming ranks behind him as he rushed the distracted Brion Stoutarm and lopped off his head.

“Excellent!” bellowed the now familiar disembodied voice, “One more strike, and I will have my champion.”

“No,” Márton whispered, “you will have no champion.” The knight raised his arms as the souls of all in the arena rushed into the space between his palms.

“I know who to strike.”