mtg.wtf

The void is without substance but cuts like steel.

They feared each other for their differences but were absolutely terrified at their similarities.

The barbarians of Jund believe the bottomless tar pits extend forever into other, darker worlds.

"Look there—they carry that one upon a sedan chair. It must be their leader. Wait . . . Oh! Perhaps not."
—Kaeda, aven scout

Goblins journey to the sacrificial peaks in pairs so that the rare survivor might be able to relate the details of the other's grisly demise.

Though no longer attached to the hand, it still holds its adversary in its grasp.

The penultimate step of the ritual involves bathing in a delicious glaze.

"Cast out by my tribe, I am a pariah trapped in this mammal's carcass. Only my true kin hear my cries."

The farther he roamed from Jund and its dragons, the more he felt their essence in himself.

"If our former masters would have us kneel again, they shall feel our defiance slashed across their membranes."

Every disaster holds mystery, for lack of a sane witness.

Each Eldrazi ancient spawned a lineage of horrors in unfathomable shapes.

The last reliable landmark in Tazeem just walked away.

"I don't know who to pity more: those who flee from my presence or the damned who can withstand it."

Dreadwings spring from lofty perches to surprise kathari in midflight. They smother their prey and then consume it as they glide gently toward the ground.

Only the Eldrazi mind thinks in the warped paths required to open the hedrons and tap the power within.

"On our thirty-fourth day of digging, we unearthed a chamber that contained the intact remains of several species long extinct from Grixis. One in particular should make a fine siege engine . . . ."
—Last notes of Shungus Nod, fleshcrafter

The undead of Grixis are fueled by their hatred of the living.