This fucker has been confusing players who skip spoiler season, getting picked fourteenth, enraging Tarmogoyf-seekers, tying up the lines to Wizards of the Coast Game Support, and singing a siren song to amateur MtG designers ever since Spring 2007.
I am not immune to his charms. I, like many others before me, wish to solve the puzzle that was never meant to be solved, to figure out what exactly Riggers are doing assembling those contraptions anyway.
However, I am not optimistic enough to believe that even a far-fetched approximation of a mechanic will come out of this post. Instead, I believe this post will be far more important to highlight how Contraptions may never be assembled, or yea, assembled two Contraptions instead.
I figured you lot were more of the sort to find this interesting than my main blog’s followers.
The Dark, Pt. 8: Crazy Person Foundation
To recap, Jodah has been woken at an ungodly hour in order to follow a man made completely out of rags and tatters through a wall, down, down, down a seemingly endless staircase, and in front of a truly bottomless pit. And the worst part is, it isn’t a dream.
Hanging over the business end (the only end, really, if it’s bottomless) of the pit is a cage. I already used the actual picture of the cage in question for the last entry, so I’m going to see what other piece of MtG art I can substitute.
[Note: As described in previous posts, I will be mixing more modern stories with the older storylines. First up is Zendikar, as beefy-balogna, our 100th Post Celebration winner, requested.]
Once upon a time, there was a land of unsurpassed beauty. It was idyllic, bucolic, frolicsome, and just terrific. Utterly fab. Brooks babbled, hills rolled, and getting enough to eat was as simple as leaving your mouth open under the fruit trees during your afternoon nap. Or your evening nap. Or the morning one.
Months pass. Or weeks pass. It doesn’t matter, because Jodah does nary an act of importance. There’s all this description of how the members of the Conclave do, drawn-out dissertations on the nature of magic, and more characters who do butt-fuck-nothing. Here’s the Contested Cliffs’ Notes:
Marisil is constructing an extraordinarily complex contraption that nobody knows the purpose of, not even his chief artificer Barl.
Jodah is assigned as the Conclave’s copy-machine lackey (I’m not even kidding, they use magical machines that transcribe text and he makes copies of tomes all day with it).
Marisil tasks Chief Copy-Lackey Jodah with a detailed report on a journal by Jodah’s own grandfather, Jarsyl. You may proceed to forget that name because of course it never showed up anywhere on the cards.
So it’s come to my attention, and possibly yours, that we’re dragging a little bit here. I can blame at least three things that aren’t me for that (#1 Jodah hasn’t thrown bags of hands at anybody, #2 See reason #1, #3 All of the above), but I will take full responsibility for failing to wring as much comedy as possible out of a story full of characters you’ve never played with or heard of. This will not be for lack of trying.
In particular, it appears that story events have gotten a bit too granular within The Dark; the last installment consisted entirely of our hero getting lost and successfully hiding, and I only had the phrase “guardian hobo” to make up for it.
In our last “adventure,” Jodah has been robbed blind of his possessions and his purpose. Much like a high school graduate with no plans, he signs up for the easiest job within reach. Much unlike a high school graduate with no plans, this involves the Gheddian army instead of the Taco Bell.
As far as jobs go, this one isn’t bad. You work outside, the pay’s decent, the food’s hot, you get a place to sleep, and in peacetime the army is just for show. The only way Jodah could get into trouble was if war were declared.
This is one of the only two pictures you can find of him on the internet, so take a good long look. Well, wait, that’s not entirely true, I can usually find some unofficial art by the real M:tG artists on deviantArt if I search, hang on…