mtg.wtf

In the future, she may be a distinguished leader, a great scholar, or a decorated hero. These days all she does is pee the bed.

Don't let its appearance frighten you. Let its claws and teeth do that.

Giants sleep soundly and long, sometimes for long enough that a crust of earth and moss grows over them. But inevitably something disturbs their slumber, and they wake unhappy.

Nature can't be tamed, but the Sun Empire believes that humans are made stronger when they test themselves against the wild strength of the dinosaurs.

"Faugh!" snorted Tahngarth. "Why would it make a meal of something like you?" Squee looked relieved. "No," he continued, "you'd make a much better toothpick."

Just one drop of the glistening oil can eventually stain even a soul as stalwart as a loxodon's beyond redemption.

Loxodons are firm in stature and spirit. No matter the odds, they are always first into battle.

The Mirran elders vanished with Memnarch, leaving behind a generation of wayward orphans.

The wardens keep watch over an endless sea of progress.

To stand as a guardian of the sea, one must possess the resolve of a mounting wave.

". . . and for that I shall be eternally grateful."

"An army has filled the valley, but it's not like any army I've ever seen. There are no tents, no fires, no horses . . . just a sea of bodies, writhing and moaning, as if a pestilent village were sent to invade us."
—Onean scout

Reminders of Memnarch's reign still skirr across Mirrodin, reminiscent of his form if not his power.

Through his allies, Meng Huo commanded several hundred thousand troops composed of cavalry, rattan-armored warriors, infantry, naked men with swords, and wild animals.

Merfolk curiosity usually has dire consequences, but rarely for the merfolk.

"The merfolk of the Pearl Trident have risen from the waves since the earliest days, at times allies to humans, other times enemies. Now their power is cresting again, and who can say which way the new tide will flow."
—Kalis, Onean scholar

When the clever counterfeit was accepted by the hive, Volrath's influence upon the slivers grew even stronger.

Mines that once rang with the strikes of pickaxes now echo with shouts of reckless glee.

"Look at that. Shuffling, wobbling, entrails placed haphazardly. It's shameful. Who would let that kind of work flap about for all to see?"
—Lestin, necromancer

The herd's patience, the stampede's fury.

The intricate dynamics of Rundvelt goblin affairs are often confused with anarchy. The chaos, however, is the chaos of a thundercloud, and direction will sporadically and violently appear. Pashalik Mons and his raiders are the thunderhead that leads in the storm.

"The Moriok are fools. They try so hard to gain my favor. All I want is for them to die quickly, to join the ranks of the nim."
—Geth, Lord of the Vault

After the battle, an eerie silence gripped the forest. The losers' remains were lightly dusted with green.

"Just as some fool said it couldn't get worse, the rats began to show up."
—Foot soldier

Some adventuring parties are made up of old friends, their common bonds bolstering them in the face of peril. Other parties simply hire the biggest, meanest muscle they can find.