Tin Street Market by Noah Bradley

It’s been a long and exciting road, my friends. Today, I am psyched to present the winners of the first Retribution in Ravnica design-a-card-contest, in which we successfully gave Agrus Kos a new look and totally retooled card that still stays true to his personality and colorful history.

I want to thank everyone who participated in both design and voting. My job here is to entertain, but without the support of awesome readers like you, I got nothing! Also need to give a shout out to the volunteer commentators Bennie Smith, Ant Tessitore, and Natahlia Zaring, who provided great feedback to the entrants.

The next Retribution in Ravnica design contest will involve creating a Planeswalker card. Stay up to date on characters and story developments by following along at moxymtg.com.

Without further ado, here are our winners, my thoughts on their cards, and a special preview of a future Retribution in Ravnica chapter . . . 

First Place: Agrus Kos, Boros Avenger by Bruce

Prize: Duel Decks: Jace vs. Vraska

I absolutely love that Bruce took the time to receive permission from MTG artist Daniel Ljunggren to use this sketch for his card. The soldier’s posture—at the ready, but under a bit of duress—is totally Kos and calls to mind his original depiction. I like the white in the casting cost, giving us a hint as to how Kos’s ideals have changed over the years—his guild affiliation gradually being less important than the causes he fights for. The “colorless” rules text also speaks to this. Vigilance is a great embodiment of Kos’s tireless work ethic, and the tap ability is totally punitive, which fits—I mean, he’s still a cop, after all! And I especially love that Bruce incorporated flavor text taken directly from my fan fiction. This quote is from a scene in which Kos and partner Kallist bring the vengeance hammer down on some Dimir baddies, and it’s nice to see it work so well on an actual card concept.

Second Place: Agrus Kos, Agyrem Prosecutor by Blackbull

Prize: Foil Agrus Kos, Wojek Veteran and Szadek, Lord of Secrets plus Agyrem plane from Planechase

Even though Cesar had to rely on an art description rather than a visual to illustrate his card, I think if you take the time to read the description, you can see it’s very powerful. I envisioned Kos with his back to us, which makes for a very unusual illustration in terms of the new “MTG norm,” but I love it. It puts the focus on Kos’s action (his work) versus himself. I think that’s right in character. Battle cry seems to be a very good fit, as Kos is, truly, a public servant. I enjoy the ping ability in that Kos can easily take out little attackers on his own if they cause trouble, but he’s going to have trouble with something like a monstrous flyer—very apt description of his skillset articulated through card mechanics.

Third Place: Agrus Kos, Agyrem Chief by Zengardon

Prize: Nicol Bolas, Planeswalker and Niv-Mizzet, the Firemind

Again, loved the effort to illustrate here. Zengardon wrangled permission to use this great art by Tom Edwards. The piece is gritty and dark, and it speaks to the haunted side of Kos, which is a very real part of his character. I also like the card title—it’s simple and local, noting Kos’s new jurisdiction and title, and it shows a logical evolution from his first incarnation, Wojek Veteran. I think the card mechanics illustrate Kos’s ghostly community-minded identity, and I enjoyed that the last ability seemed to reference the recruitment part of Kos’s job.

I was really impressed by the amount of work and attention to detail that went into all the submissions. In a way, I feel selfish running these contests because I derive so much joy from your participation and am constantly amazed by the talent and creativity out there in this MTG community. Thank you for sharing it with me. I can’t wait to see what comes out of the next contest . . . 

And on that note, I hope you enjoy this excerpt from Retribution in Ravnica. Till next time, may Magic be your whip—in both the Erebos and the House of Cards sense.

-MJ

@moxymtg

moxymtg.com

Retribution in Ravnica

An Original MTG Fan Fiction by MJ Scott

—Excerpt—

Chapter 7: Sharp-Dressed Man

“Here we are.” They’d finally crossed the expansive, domed Hall and reached a simple but well-crafted door along the southern wall. There were several other similar doors, all of which Liliana presumed served as quarters for high-ranking individuals who worked in Independence Crown on a daily basis. Reed raised her hand and knocked.

“Yes?” came a resonant voice from within. Liliana cringed a little as she stood behind Reed, not from fear, but from embarrassment. She rolled her eyes at herself and gritted her teeth. Let’s damn well get this over with—open the door, you whip-flicking boor . . .  she thought. Though really, bore is more accurate..

“Sovereign Muirrh of the Dawn Sect to see you, honored Cleric.”

The door clicked and swung open wide. Over Reed’s shoulder, Liliana could see a tall, well-built man framed in the doorway. Truthfully, he was probably the best-built man Liliana had come across in her travels. The fine white wool of his cleric’s robes did nothing to hide his physique—folds of soft cloth fell from muscular, rounded shoulders and flowed smoothly over pectorals so defined they could be used as pauldron forms. The man’s face was approaching middle age but still ruggedly handsome, and his dark blonde hair was pulled back from his face into a low braid that peeked out from around his neck.

“My thanks, Lieutenant,” he said. Reed nodded and stood aside for Liliana. “Sovereign.” The esteemed cleric extended a hand to welcome her into his office. His face was composed, and he didn’t make eye contact with her.

“Thank you, Reed,” Liliana said, touching the lieutenant’s arm gently as she glided past.

“My pleasure.” The young woman bowed low, and when she stood, she looked Liliana in the face before saluting formally. At least I have one ally in this depressing place, Liliana mused as she listened to Reed’s boots clack back across Crown Hall.

Ar-Alan closed the door with a reluctant thud. Ugh, we’re alone. Liliana suppressed a grimace as she turned to the holy man, simultaneously touching her right earring.

“There’s no way I’m keeping this getup on in here. It’s stifling.” Tendrils of black swathed the necromancer as the Sovereign glamour dissolved. In moments, she was herself—black hair cascading freely around her face, molded leather bodice protecting the assets, comfy skirt she could cross her legs in, bare shoulders, and killer boots.

“Ahhh, so much better,” she exulted, indulging in a feline stretch before collapsing into one of the cleric’s overstuffed chairs. It was covered in a soft bearskin, and she snuggled down into it, eyeing “Ar-Alan” from beneath half-lowered lids.

“Come on, Gid, are you not going to look at me for the duration of this mission?”

Gideon Jura swallowed, frowned, and scratched his neck self-consciously, as if the cleric’s robes vexed his skin. He turned toward Liliana . . . and fixed his gaze out the window.

“Oh, for Ulamog’s sake, it didn’t mean anything—so, let’s just move on, shall we? Forget it ever happened. Do you have anything to drink in here?” Liliana twisted to eyeball the cabinets near the fireplace, daring them to hide liquor from her.

“Drinking is what got us in trouble the first time,” Gideon said harshly to the window. The dull light from the grayed-over sky made his features look old and pinched . . . a strange contrast to the way the overcast day had only seemed to caress Venser’s face, seeming right at home.

“Um, drinking was probably the best part of that evening, if we’re being honest with ourselves,” Liliana sighed.

“I told you I wasn’t into—”

“Look, I’m sorry about the rack thing. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Liliana, but that… it’s just not right . . . ”

“Well, if you’d given it a chance, maybe you’d have found something to enjoy—if we’d had more time—”

“I’d had a lot to drink.”

“That’s fair.”

Gideon Jura, righteous mercenary and planeswalker flagbearer of The Order of Heliud, turned from the window and let his sullen gaze fall on the necromancer in his best chair. Gideon had been many things—soldier, instrument of holy war, defender of the helpless on multiple planes, paragon of strength, flame-mage bounty hunter . . . but he’d never been a coward, or a quitter.

“We could try again,” he said to Liliana.

“Um, I’m good,” she said.

Gideon nodded his acknowledgement—not without a healthy amount of relief—and returned to gazing out the window. “I think I have some brandy in the cupboard over there.”

“I knew you were holding out on me,” Liliana laughed, jumping up and sauntering across the suite. The hour was passing. Venser would be at Independence Crown, soon. He’d promised. Liliana knew the artificer well enough to count on that.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” she said to Gideon, as she uncorked the brandy.

“Not much needs to be said. I’m the backup plan.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“I still believe in The Order.”

“Even though it’s a farce?”

“Order itself can’t be denied.”

“We’re talking about a religious organization, not the ideal, Gid.”

“I believe that sometimes the bad ideas of mortals can lead to the transcendent edification of societies, despite flaws in the execution.”

“I think our mutual employer wouldn’t like hearing you group him in with ‘the mortals.’”

“Doesn’t make it less true.”

“I wish he’d have a little more faith in me. You and your Heliudites are going to be a pain in my ass here.”

“Liliana, everyone knows your history with Jace. If it were you, wouldn’t you want some kind of failsafe leverage? In case of . . . complications?”

“Shut up.”

Gideon looked at her and smiled tediously. “That’s what you told me before you unrolled that godsawful binding-tape . . . ”

“I said I was sorry!”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve drunk less . . . and cracked the whip.”

“Probably.”

Retribution in Ravnica updates every Friday.