Old Rivals at the Northern Paladins 2019 Spring Regrowth

Old Rivals

It is said that our rivals make us who we are, and I believe this to be true. In my many years, I can think of many foes who, by challenging me, have made me a better athlete, a better scholar, a better father. Whether is is due to direct competition (training harder so I could defeat the foul scions of Eau Claire Memorial and Hudson in the next footrace) or due to an example to strive against (avoiding the mistakes of others to be the best parent I could be), rivalry has served me well. It is no different in matters of magic. And the two rivals who have shaped my magical abilities the most are Megan and Ryan, my sister and one of my closest friends. I have known each for a large portion of my life—Megan since the womb and Ryan since adolescence.

Born together, Megan and I have always been close, but that closeness has also inspired competition between the two of us. We were much alike in interests and vocations, and our similarity in age and aptitude often led us to conflict. But our conflict rarely escalated to enmity. Even today, many years after life has pulled us to different destinations, we remain close.

I met Ryan during our years of scholarship when he transferred from a different institution of learning to the one I attended. We soon discovered like interests, and the close proximity of his home to mine made us fast friends. It was he who encouraged me to pursue contests of speed on foot and in water, both forms of competition which became very important to me. But more importantly to this narrative, he introduced me to fantastical stories of ring-empowered dark lords and dragons of various seasons. If not for these tales, I may have never found an interest in magic.

It was after a few years of telling our own stories by delving into dungeons and slaying dragons that Ryan showed me an ancient spellbook, one that immediately piqued my interest. Inside were potent spells of destruction and fire and lightning, and (probably accidentally) an eldritch specter. I immediately had to know more, so he and the other wizards he dueled with that day explained that each wizard had a spellbook of their own, and that each could customize it as he or she saw fit with whatever colors of magic he or she chose. I knew I had to have one too, but alas—none would be available until later that day. Though I waited for as long as I could, night soon drew near and my parents expected me home. Ryan, however, offered to take my gold and purchase my spellbook for me when it was delivered.

True to his word, Ryan contacted me through the ether later that night, and with my permission, told me of what he found in my spellbook. I don’t clearly remember its contents, but I do remember that neither the summons for the Serra Angel nor for the Sorceress Queen were included—both creatures that had impressed me in Ryan’s earlier duels. Undeterred, I soon took possession of my spellbook and eagerly entered into the world of spellcasting.

Soon after obtaining my spellbook Megan wanted one of her own, too, and obtained one in short order. Before long, Ryan, Megan, and I were dueling against each other and against other local mages as often as possible. Ryan was by far the best among us, but due to our close relation Megan was the one I battled against the most. She and I dueled almost every day, whether at home or elsewhere. We honed our spellbooks against each other, and we made our own fantastic stories through our battles—she became the Dread Lady Shade, tyrant of the Polluted Sea and the Corrupted Forest, and I became the Artifact King, ruler of the Industrial Wasteland. Alas, no record of these stories remains but for our shared memories.

I’ve written before of how each of us went our own ways to pursue other goals. Megan sold her spellbooks years ago, though she was kind enough to give me her Moxen when she did so—Moxen that I still use today with great reverence. I took a middle road, not practicing my magic but still keeping my spellbooks, and I believe that Ryan followed a similar path. As it happens, though, I rekindled Megan’s interest as I discovered this ancient form of dueling, and she began amassing spells again last year--mostly standard to the current times, but also some of her beloved shades and the older spells to rebuild her havens in the Polluted Sea and Corrupted Forest. When we’d see each other, I’d lend her some of my ancient tomes, and we’d battle properly like we used to.

Before long, the glories of the old ways overcame Megan, and she began putting together her own spellbook of the ancient magics and I convinced her to make the trek from the outskirts of the Pit to Parma, and join me in attending the Spring Regrowth. I reached out to Ryan as well, as he too has returned to Parma, and he enthusiastically agreed to a chance to throw ancient spells again. And so, the Spring Regrowth is not just my second such tournament, but it is also a reunion for me with those who started me on this path long ago.

Those atogs are looking pretty 'roided up. It'd be a shame if they went berserk...

I had intended to field an army of Trolls and a collection of the lich lord Nevinyrral’s signature Disks for this tournament, but my plans changed upon Ryan’s entry. He, too, said he wished to compete with a spellbook of red and black magic, and I happily agreed to lend him the powerful artifacts that I possessed as would assist such a plan of battle. So instead, I turned my gathered my legion of atogs and the artifice and spellcraft to back them up—I hoped that it would not suffer too much from the lack of power that I would lend to Ryan. This, too, had been the first collection of spells that I gathered for battling in the ancient ways, and I was eager to finally test it against opponents other than Megan. For her part, Megan reverted to her old ways of foul black magic, and brought out her Racks to torment those of whom her dementia magic would bring to kneel before her.

My Wolf(hounds) of the Hunt. Click here for files suitable for printing at makeplayingcards.com.

The creative process. I, uh, should really have color-corrected the scanned paintings before making the tokens, though.

As the days before the gathering grew shorter, I became more and more excited to see my friends old and new. To show my appreciation, I decided to bring gifts. I had, years ago, met the Master of the Hunt and fallen in love with his wolfhounds (he calls them wolves, but look at them—they’re wolfhounds!). Having obtained a pair of them, I felt the need to share them with others. While it is beyond my legal ability to scribe scrolls of summoning of my own, I can at least provide my own Wolfhounds of the Hunt to assist my friends in battle, assuming they are on good terms with their Master. It is my hope that my hounds will be appreciated, if not called to fight, by all who bear their images.

(I think that I gave everyone at least one of each of my wolfhounds of the hunt. If you were there and I missed you, let me know at djhyland at gmail dot com and I'll make sure you get them!)

The Tournament

(For the official report and pictures of all the competitors' decks, go to http://northernpaladins.com/2019/05/25/northern-paladins-2019-spring-regrowth-tournament-report/.)

The designated day finally arrived, and Megan and I made our way to the celebration of Regrowth. Ryan arrived shortly after we did, and he brought with him two others: Brandon and Joey. I knew Brandon from my youth, though not well, but Joey’s was a new face to me. Yet they came with Ryan, and I welcomed them as friends as well as worthy rivals. We were greeted by many who were strangers to me last time, but now are friends: Joe, Angelo, Jeremy, and Stevi who I battled in the Winter Blast, and all of the others I met there too. It felt good to be amongst other ancient mages once again.

Kevin's The Deck.

My first battle of the day was against Kevin, a mage skilled in the controlling ways of blue and white magic. I could not have started the fight better—drawing upon my Black Lotus, I immediately fielded a Juggernaut against him and our first battle was over as soon as it began. My luck slipped afterwards, however. In our second skirmish, I lead with Lightning Bolts but could not sustain my initial advantage due to an unfortunate wealth of ley lines and little else. Kevin likewise prevailed in our third battle, managing to rebuff both of my castings of Blood Moon (which surely would have crippled him, as he greedily drew his power from those rarer lands) and to destroy whatever factory workers of Mishra that I sent his way. By the time he finished me off with a Fireball, his own Factories had already sealed my doom. (0-1)

Jeremy S's The Deck.

I recovered from my unfortunate start to next face Jeremy, another wizard favoring the dreaded spellbook of the famed mage Weissman. It was in our battle that I began to realize that I had made a mistake in preparing for this day—the Atogs and Juggernauts alone felt like too small an army for my liking. I know that other wizards have had great success with only small to call upon or even none at all, but I concluded that that style of battle does not suit me well. Regardless of my discomfort, though, I managed to defeat Jeremy in our first fight: I was able to withstand my Copper Tablets better than he, and despite my lack of other soldiers, I sent my Factory workers to finish him off. I did not fare so well in our second fight, and despite my last-ditch attempt to kill his Serra Angel by driving her to recklessly kill herself in a Berserk rage, I succumbed to my own Copper Tablet immediately thereafter. In our final confrontation, I fielded a Juggernaut early. Jeremy’s frantic attempt to find a way to stave it off with a Timetwister only aided me in providing me with two Berserks. And just like that, my doubly-enraged Juggernaut crushed him from unharmed to defeated in an instant. In that, my proudest moment of the day, victory sure tasted sweet. (1-1)

It tastes sweet when you're on the dealing end of it, at least...

Jeremy J's RG Aggro.

My blood running hot with elation, I next faced another Jeremy—this one my final opponent from the last gathering of mages. I was pleasantly surprised to see that he had traded in his foul blue magic for red and green and a strategy similar to my own for the day’s contest. I won our first battle by whittling him down with my Ankhs of Mishra and Lightning Bolts, then cleared the way with a successful Chaos Orb for my Atog to bring him low. In our next two battles, though, I found that the multiverse must have a sense of karma, and not just the one that punishes us for dabbling in black magic. He first defeated me by weakening me with Lightning before twice casting Giant Growth on his Llanowar Elves and then sending them into a Berserk frenzy, then repeated the feat in our last battle by doubly-Berserking a Kird Ape after scorching me with two Ball Lightnings. As sweet as my Berserk-enabled victory had tasted, my defeat in the same manner was horribly bitter. (1-2)

Marcus's Stasis. (How monstrous!)

The most evil and devious of my rivals of the day was Marcus, who I encountered next. As our first skirmish began I felt confident, as I managed to field two Juggernauts. He managed to keep them at bay with his Relic Barrier, but I was certain that he could not maintain such efforts for long. But with mounting horror, I realized how wrong I was as he cast the battlefield into Stasis. With his Howling Mines flooding my mind with spells and with no mana to cast them, his Black Vise made short work of me. He was, however, unable to lock me into his diabolical trap quite so securely for our next two fights. In our next battle, my early Lightning and Factory workers before his Stasis set in allowed my Ankh to whittle him away as he sought the mana to maintain its chill grip. Sweating from the effort to attain that victory, I fielded my own Black Vise early in our third battle and called forth torrents of Lightning before he cast Stasis, and between his imperfect hold on his spell, my Factory workers, and his own Cities of Brass, I emerged victorious again if only by the skin of my teeth. I was glad to have survived, but the memory of helplessness while I stood at a standstill will long haunt me. (2-2)

Brandon's Troll Disco.

I was next pitted against Brandon, a member of my own contingent who came prepared with Disks of Nevinyrral and an army of Trolls, much as I had originally planned to do. I began our first battle with a strong showing of mana-producing artifice, but had little to cast with my wealth. He soon took it all away with a detonation of his Disk, and his Trolls made short work of me. I beat him to the punch in our next round with a Juggernaut summoned with the powers of the Lotus and he could not recover from it. Our third battle was our longest, and I assembled a selection of mana-bearing artifacts, a Copper Tablet, and an Atog before he brought a Disk to bear against me. Before he could detonate it, however, I fed my collection of trinkets to the Atog, and once strengthened by his meal, sent him forth in a Berserk frenzy to attack. Between the Atog’s suicidal assault and the Factory workers I had remaining after he set off the Disk, Brandon soon kneeled in defeat. (3-2)

Jesse's Black Discard.

As the day’s gathering drew to a close, I hoped for the chance to battle against Ryan or against my oldest and bitterest of foes—the Dread Lady Shade herself—Megan. But such was not to be. Despite my disappointment I eagerly met my last challenger, Jesse, with more victories than defeats and hoped for yet one more win. Jesse’s weapon of choice turned out to be black magic and the Rack—it seems that I could not escape the day without facing my nemesis from the last gathering. My fears came true in our first battle when Jesse was able to destroy my early Juggernauts and soon used his Disrupting Scepter to bring me to torturous defeat upon his Racks. I fought back to victory in our second conflict and injured him grievously with my Juggernauts before finishing him with a well-placed Lightning Bolt. Alas, I had no hope for victory in our final battle when he summoned forth a Hypnotic Specter with a Dark Ritual. Without a Lightning Bolt to kill it, I soon fell to its mind-destroying powers. (3-3)

If only I'd been playing Erhnamgeddon...

With all my battles behind me, my happiness could not completely eclipse my disappointment. I had hoped that my selection of spells would serve me better, and once again wished that I had prepared more summoning spells. I found myself to have obtained a rank of 16th out of 27 wizards, about the same as I had fared at our last gathering. But it is hard to wallow in regret when all around you are making merry, and I found great enjoyment in seeing how my friends, old and new alike, fared in the day’s efforts. Accolades were given to all, and I was recognized for having the most destructive set of spells amongst those gathered. (Apparently, word of my victories with Berserk spells had spread faster than my defeats with the same!) For my efforts, I was awarded a customized Nevinyrral’s Disk, one which I hope to put to good use in the near future. The finely embellished tome of Regrowth that I received, too, will be treasured—although perhaps not as soon as the Disk, as I feel the need to branch out after slinging green spells for both tournaments I’ve attended so far. Lastly, I was presented with a gargantuan scroll to summon an Erhnam Djinn, signed by all who fought today. I may not be able to use it in battle, but I will display it with pride and honor.

A noble treasure haul indeed.

 Danatoth of Alsoor (Dan Hyland)


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