The young mages huddled in a corner of the great hall, conversing in hushed tones. Everyone was nervous, and not without good reason. With a low rumble and the grating sound of stone on stone, a great door rose, and the rest of the room went silent.

A tall man strode through the opening. Horns protruded from his head, his skin was red as blood and covered in bizarre tattoos, and the cloth of his garb seemed itself to live. But nobody was focused on any of that; the gathered mages were fixated on the unearthly hue of his eyes.

Johan by Mark Tedin

“Welcome,” croaked the being in a voice like tearing canvas. “I trust you found your way here well.” With that, a boy near one of the two columns that framed the entrance burst into tears.

“Th–there was a troll, and it, and my brother, he . . . ” The child relapsed into a fit of sobbing.

“And why didn’t you stop it?” snarled the horned man.

“Master Johan, he’s only a boy,” interjected a young woman at his side, “he couldn–”

Johan turned to her with unbridled fury in his eyes, and with a groan of bending metal, the light fixture far above her head plummeted to impact her skull with a sickening crunch.

“It’s not a matter of how much force you wield,” Johan seethed, “but how you apply it.”

His slack-jawed audience stared on in silence.

“Now, if nobody has any other questions, I’ll explain the rules. One of you shall become a military strategist who will aid me in the coming war; you are here to prove your aptitude.”

“And if we don’t intend to help you?” demanded a strained voice.

The rest of the assembled mages parted to reveal a young man with one leg twisted at a perplexing angle who clutched a wooden stave. The other magi looked on in horror, expecting another explosive reaction from their host. Instead, Johan smiled.

“Then you, Nicholas Alaniz, might just have what it takes.”

With that, Johan turned on his heel and stepped out the door. “Constant vigilance!” The same rumbling sound as before accompanied the door’s descent, and it wasn’t until a few seconds after it touched the floor that it occurred to Nicholas that the rumbling hadn’t stopped. He looked up.

Mossbridge Troll by Jeremy Jarvis

“TROLL!”

Seventy-eight pairs of eyes snapped upward in perfect unison. And then the screaming began.

The exit lay behind an immovable stone; there were no windows, no doors, no loose pieces of flooring. Just a hole in the ceiling where a light fixture had torn free.

Adolescent wizards ran in circles until they were smashed beneath a club broad as a tree trunk or a footfall as heavy. A few cooler headed individuals clustered in corners brandishing splintered bits of chairs and tables, but such tactics did them no good.

One girl took a more head-on approach, and . . . it worked!

Fumiko the Lowblood by Michael Sutfin

Fumiko rammed her blade into the troll’s toe, and the monstrosity yowled and bent over to investigate. It should have paid closer attention. Mages rushed in from all sides as Fumiko leapt onto the abomination’s back and buried her sword in its spine, right below the shoulder. The troll toppled, twitched, and lay still.

Fumiko planted her boot and tugged, but the blade wouldn’t come free. She bent down and saw that the split flesh had reknit itself around the wound. She opened her mouth to yell, but before any breath escaped her lips, an enormous fist closed around her. The troll pushed itself to its feet and regained its club. Blood dripped from its clenched fist.

Nicholas dropped his stave and collapsed to the ground as the troll’s club swung by overhead. “So much for killing it,” he wheezed. “Time for a new plan. Pick me up.”

“What?” demanded the incredulous youth pressed into the corner beside him.

“Pick. Me. Up. I have a plan.”

Climbing an angry troll isn’t easy on the best of days. It’s markedly more difficult with a gimp leg, but Nicholas and the only three people crazy enough to follow him made the ascent. There was just one problem. Their twenty-five-foot-high perch was nowhere near the hole in the ceiling.

Gideon Jura and Garruk Wildspeaker by Aleksi Briclot; Elspeth Tirel by Michael Komarck

Nick furrowed his brow. “We need to attack it from that direction—maybe it’ll think something bigger’s after it and go the right way.”

“That’s a stupid idea,” Gideon retorted.

“Sure, but I don’t have a better one. So unless you do . . . ”

“Not only is it unlikely to work, we have no way hit this thing hard enough to cause it pain, especially not while holding on with both hands.”

“Maybe we don’t have to hit it,” Elspeth piped up. “Have you ever seen a troll family?”

“Sure,” Garruk responded, “all the time.”

“Then you know how they reprimand their young.”

With that, the four young mages worked their way around to the Troll’s enormous earlobe and grabbed hold. With a monstrous bellow of frustration, the beast stumbled to the side. Garruk nimbly jumped into the hole where the light had been and caught each of the others when they leapt.

To each side of their hiding spot were support beams.

“Well, this is just great,” Gideon disparaged. “We may not be troll food, but we’re as good as dead anyhow. Oh, and did I mention that it smells like burned mold up here?”

“That’s sort of a strange scent to find in–” Elspeth began.

Garruk’s eyes widened. “No, no, no, no, no. This is not good.”

Gideon stammered, “Wh–what is that thing.”

“It’s a Flameblast Dragon; they practically spit fireballs.”

“That sounds . . . unpleasant.”

As if on cue, the creature turned its gaze skyward and unleashed a gout of flame.

Flameblast Dragon by Jaime Jones

Garruk was knocked off his feet, but he quickly regained his senses and patted himself out. “Oh, and they never miss.”

“I’m through with being surprised,” Nick declared as he pushed himself up. “It’s time to make a plan. The only way we’re going to do any damage to these monsters is by making them fight each other.”

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” countered Elspeth.

“I, uh, haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”

Another fiery blast sailed past the group.

Nick turned to Garruk. “I thought you said they never missed.” Garruk just shrugged.

“Uh, guys,” Gideon butted in. He gestured back to the support beam behind Garruk—or at least to where he thought that beam might be visible if the air weren’t already thick with smoke. “I don’t think it missed.”

Smoke by Jesper Myrfors

Nicholas smirked. “So, would you prefer death by suffocation or should we jump to our demise?”

Elspeth rolled her eyes and took something out of her pocket. “Help me unfold this.”

Journeyer's Kite by Hiro Izawa

The four remaining magelings grabbed hold of the kite and began their descent to see the dragon already sucking in air to kindle a flame. “Do something!” Garruk screeched. Nicholas twisted, raised his hand, and released a stream of flame, sending the kite directly toward the dragon’s open maw.

“What are you doing?” Gideon yelled.

“Catching someone’s attention,” Nicholas replied, a grin spreading across his face. He changed the course of the stream, and not a second later, an enormous troll first swung by and buried itself in the dragon’s throat. No fire emerged, but the dragon began to bloat, and the troll hurriedly tried to extricate its paw. It failed.

Starstorm by David Martin

Nicholas opened his eyes and slowly sat up. The castle around him was reduced to rubble, but there amongst the stones stood Johan. Elspeth, Gideon, and Garruk were sprawled before him, and he was holding aloft a piece of rock.

Meekstone by Quinton Hoover

“Congratulations, Nick, you’ve won my little contest.”

Nicholas met Johan’s gaze. “I guess you’re all I have to work with.”

“Well, pray tell: What have you come to know?”

“Just because you can’t kill an enemy doesn’t mean you can’t defeat them. A good offense is the best defense; you only get attacked if you’re the easiest prey. And one more thing: You don’t just need battle plans, you need to be told who to fight.”

“And what makes you think you have any right to decide my aims?”

Nicholas began to chuckle. “Congratulations, Johan, you’ve passed my test.”

“What are you talking about? Is that your idea of humor?”

“Oh, it’s certainly humorous. Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,” Johan spat, “you’re Nicholas Alaniz.”

Nicholas grinned. “Some call me that, but the rest know me as . . . ”

Nicol Bolas, Planeswalker by D. Alexander Gregory

“Nicol Bolas. I have battle plans for you to execute, Johan, and when I return, I expect to be handed command of all of Dominaria.”

"Ever-Vigilant by Nicholas Alaniz"

• Commander (0)

• Troops (26)
• 1 Knotvine Paladin
• 1 Spectral Force
• 1 Arachnus Spinner
• 1 Sunblast Angel
• 1 Thriss, Nantuko Primus
• 1 Predator Ooze
• 1 Rubblehulk
• 1 Angelic Skirmisher
• 1 Hunted Troll
• 1 Kazuul, Tyrant of the Cliffs
• 1 Kazandu Tuskcaller
• 1 Krenko, Mob Boss
• 1 Urabrask the Hidden
• 1 Keeper of Progenitus
• 1 Marble Titan
• 1 Sakura-Tribe Elder
• 1 Dragon Mage
• 1 Ballista Squad
• 1 Fumiko the Lowblood
• 1 Spawnwrithe
• 1 Flameblast Dragon
• 1 Eternal Witness
• 1 Molten Primordial
• 1 Mossbridge Troll
• 1 Spearbreaker Behemoth
• 1 Ulvenwald Tracker

• Tactics (34)
• 1 Builder's Blessing
• 1 Castle
• 1 Arachnus Web
• 1 Lightning Greaves
• 1 Cultivate
• 1 Kodama's Reach
• 1 Crackdown
• 1 Meekstone
• 1 Explosive Vegetation
• 1 Sol Ring
• 1 Armillary Sphere
• 1 Smoke
• 1 Mudslide
• 1 Starstorm
• 1 Akroma's Vengeance
• 1 Harmonize
• 1 Garruk Wildspeaker
• 1 Relic of Progenitus
• 1 Soul's Majesty
• 1 Wheel of Fortune
• 1 Gideon Jura
• 1 Blind Obedience
• 1 Momentous Fall
• 1 Boros Charm
• 1 Aura Shards
• 1 Journeyer's Kite
• 1 Chromatic Lantern
• 1 Darksteel Ingot
• 1 Naya Charm
• 1 Magmaquake
• 1 Abundance
• 1 Loxodon Warhammer
• 1 Elspeth Tirel
• 1 Expedition Map

• Halls (39)
• 9 Forest
• 4 Plains
• 5 Mountain
• 1 Battlefield Forge
• 1 Brushland
• 1 Command Tower
• 1 Copperline Gorge
• 1 Evolving Wilds
• 1 Terramorphic Expanse
• 1 Gruul Turf
• 1 Homeward Path
• 1 Karplusan Forest
• 1 Krosan Verge
• 1 Razorverge Thicket
• 1 Temple Garden
• 1 Tectonic Edge
• 1 Stomping Ground
• 1 Thespian's Stage
• 1 Selesnya Sanctuary
• 1 Boros Garrison
• 1 Drifting Meadow
• 1 Slippery Karst
• 1 Smoldering Crater
• 1 Kessig Wolf Run

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