#mtg lore

Jace:”I’m a father now.”

Narset: “Is he ok being on that much melatonin.”

Na wstępie chce przeprosić wszystkich, którzy kiedykolwiek zaczęli obserwować tego bloga i pomyśleli, że sprawa umarła... Owszem, przez dłuższy czas miałam z Magickiem trochę nie po drodze, ale wracam by dalej pisać o tym jak grać językiem przystępnym dla wszystkich.

Ja oczywiście też nie jestem jakimś super graczem i wyjadaczem i pisząc o zasadach sama korzystam z wsparcia "mądrych głów' ten blog to trochę taki passion projekt ☺️ by dalej nie przedłużać...

(będę używać niekiedy spolszczonych okresleń - kreatura, land, artefakt, abilitka, pole bitwy, enchant, spelle)

Permanent

- najprościej wyjaśniam - permamentnem nazywamy wszystko co leży na stole podczas gry. Każda karta, którą tam zostawiliśmy - kreatura, land też jest permanentnem... Enchantment jest permanentnem oraz ekwipunek (artefakt) też nim jest.

I na koniec oczywiście nie zapominajmy o plainswalkerach... I myślę, że plainswalkerom poświęcimy z czasem oddzielny rozdział.

Zwróćcie uwagę, że zawsze wiecie z jakiego TYPU karta macie do czynienia czytając jej opis.

Opis to pierwszy tekst pod obrazkiem. I tak po kolei:

Creature - Wolf, Basic Land - Forest, Enchantment, Artefakt Creature (nasza mróweczka jest sztucznym konstruktem co za tym idzie również przedmiotem/artefaktem), Artefactt- Vehicle (pojazd - wiadomo), Enchantment - Aura (specjalny typ "zaklęcia" które nakłada się na inny permanent w naszym przypadku Basic Land, dzięki czemu zyskujemy dodatkowe korzyści), Artefact - Eqipment (wyposażenie/broń) tak jak w przypadku Aury można go "doczepić" do wybranej kreatury i zyskać dodatkowe benefity. I na koniec nasz honorowy plainwalker Ajani, nad którego zastosowaniem nie będziemy się rozwodzić.

Na razie tyle wiedzy o permamentach wystarczy nam by dowiedzieć się czym jest

Tapowanie

Tapowanie to najprościej mówiąc przekręcenie permamentu o 90° od pozycji wyjściowej.

Jedna z pierwszych rzeczy, których uczysz się grając w Magic'a to, że "tapujesz" landy dla many by rzucać swoje "spelle"(zaklęcia) - tak, kreatury i enchanty oraz artefakty to wszystko zaklęcia "spelle" wygląda to tak

I juz możesz zagrać tego oto Wizarda. Bezpośrednio z tego miejsca możemy przejść do omówienia

Kosztu Many

Dalej korzystając z przykładu naszego Wizarda. Jego Koszt Many wynosi 3.

Tłumaczac najprościej - by wystawić tę kreaturę będziemy potrzebowali tapnąć na pewno 1 land niebieski, 1 land czerwony i zostaje nam jeszcze 1 slot do opłacenia (razem to 3!) - tu decydujemy sami, która manę zużyjemy by go wypełnić.

Na poprzednim obrazku ja wybrałam "manę czerwoną" być może dlatego, że miałam jej więcej ☺️.

Tapnięcie landu w waszej turze sprawia, że jego zasób został wykorzystany - dał wam manę swojego koloru - i odnowi się dopiero w waszej następnej turze.

Dlatego z tych zasobów warto korzystać rozsądnie. Ale to również temat na osobny post.

Aktywowanie Abilitki

Dalej ciągnąć temat tapowanie. Czasami na karcie zobaczycie taki znaczek.

Ta strzałka oznacza, że tę kartę można tapnąć by uzyskać konkretny efekt.

Tak, ta karta ma "aktywowaną abilitkę" (activated ability) kosztem aktywacji jest tapnięcie.

A dlaczego kosztem? Tak samo jak w przypadku landów wasza karta staje się wykorzystanym zasobem do końca tury.

Tapujac tę kreaturę skazujecie ją na pewną bezużyteczność - nie może się ona ani bronić ani atakować... Ale daje nam coś w zamian. Tylko od gracza zależy czy akurat mu się to opłaci.

Innie koszty aktywacji

Czasami nie wystarczy tapnięcie, czasami jeszcze trzeba dodatkowo "dopłacić" by karta mogła coś zrobić. Niech przykładem będzie moja ulubiona ostatnio karta na której buduje deck do BRAWLA.

Poznajcie Wick'a

1. Koszt Many - by nasz szczur znalazł się na polu walki (battlefield) należy zapłacić koszt many, który wynosi 4 w tym obowiązkowo 1 czarnej

2. Co karta robi kiedy znajdzie się już na polu bitwy? Wick wchodząc do walki tworzy ślimaka, lub jeśli ślimak już był dodaje mu +1/+1 (ślimak jest o jeden silniejszy i o jeden twardszy). To samo będzie się działo gdy jaki kolwiek inny szczur (karta, która w swoim opisie zawiera słowo "rat" i "creature") wejdzie na pole bitwy. Znowu nasz ślimak stanie się nieco silniejszy i twardszy.

3. Aktywowana abilitka - płacąc koszt 1 niebieskiej 1 czarnej 1 czerwonej many (poprzez tąpnięcie odpowiednich landów) możemy poświęcić naszego ślimaka, którego "pompowalismy" przez parę tur by zadał obrażenia twojemu oponentowi.

Obrażenia będą wartości siły ślimaka w momencie poświęcenia (sacrafice). Dodatkowo dobierasz wtedy tyle kart ile siły miał nasz "wybuchniety" ślimak

I to by było na tyle.

W następnym poście postaram się opowiedzić o kartach które nie są permamentami - bo i takie są. Na co w ogóle patrzyć na karcie i jak ja czytać .Oraz po krótce opisać przebieg czynności w turze.

Yurlok began to feel a familiar tug of the Blind Eternities. Some mana-mancer, massive and ungraspable. This happens from time to time. Some great force, aware of Yurlok's particular set of skills, has need to summon his essence to a field of war and conflict. Privately, Yurlok thought that those great ones who commanded him so often were unkind, cruel, or worse yet - he was a plaything to an ill-entertained Planeswalker.

He felt himself slip from the bonfire of Scorch Thrash. In a moment, he was present, alove and whole in some battle-scarred taiga. He took a breath, then another, then a third. This 'summoning', as he knew it, always put him off-kilter.

And yet, he found himself modified somewhat, tenser in his arms and legs. He noticed his posture was straighter, and when he ran his tongue over his flesh-rending teeth, their sharpness surprised him. Something must have happened to him in the summoning, something that was not expected. He was used to the overwhelming sense of mana flow, the warm rush of leylines full to bursting with arcane power, but he was never the recipient of such an uplifting force. He scanned the area he now found himself in, using his vigilant sense of smell to find what's caused his newfound power.

A little... guy.

Big eyes. Red and obsidian-dark scales. A flaming blade, not unlike Ajani's dual-head axe, but much smaller. Tail as long as his body.

He was why Yurlok was feeling so bolstered.

He looked tired. Poor fella, he probably just seeing his little blade, and he was beside himself from the effort.

The little eye blinked at him, seemingly aware of Yurlok's enhanced state. Then, as though he could hear something coming, he motioned with his free hands, clawed and infantile.

Back up.

Yurlok backed up.

A frilled sandwalla burst to reality. Hardly a creature Yurlok would need to make room for, but it was about the small thing's size. Immediately after this new lizard became tangible, the bladed ally began to glow and spurter. He hissed a gruesome curse, magical flame building around him, and three bolts of energy blazer or of him, flying in three different directions.

Yurlok then realized that the sandwalla was as tall as him.

For all the time-warp shenanigans that the plane has been victim to, it baffles the mind of many of the Cabaretti that nobody here cooks with garlic? They ask about it, the aromatic bulbs that grow in small clumps, and the Abzan look at them confused. Yeah, we've got plants like that, but we never really bothered to use them. It's, like, a weed. It grows in the cracks of our roads, we don't go out of our way to cook with it.

The great, immutable truths of Theros are aligned with magical reflections of the belief. The sea, the sun, and death have all been around for forever, and they seem to have ever-changing opinions on our lives and livelihoods. What if we... offered them a song? What if we sang to the sun? And what if the sun liked the song enough, it wouldn't give us heat stroke so much?

...what do you mean that worked?

Okay, cool cool cool. The sun is a guy. A huge guy. That is choosing not to give us heat stroke because he likes our songs. Great. Should we make songs for the other stuff we deal with all the time, maybe?

We hunt, and we really need to be good at hunting. Let's sing a song... to the idea of hunting well! Holy shit! That worked! Let's make a song about making better tools to hunt better! Holy shit!! That worked!!

As society crept further and further into stability, more human-centric worship started popping off.

"Hey, babe? I love that we made a big city where all of our people could live together in peace, and I think we've got a really good thing going, but I feel like we're missing something."

"I totally agree, Tiro, I want this place to last. Let's offer some of our best boar to the God of Making Our City Last!"

"What are you talki- oh! Right! Thank you, God of Making Our City Last! Here's our best boars! Love you!"

A booming voice that shakes the grounds of Meletis responds,

Anyway yes I have better ideas.

The thing about the colors in Magic is that they’re not uniform. They never have been, and I know for a fucking fact that Rosewater knows that, because he’s worked on Eldraine. A world where black is filled with knights going on daring and risky quests to win a queen’s hand in Addams Family style very-lethal marriage, and white is filled with authoritarian demands for compliance at the cost of compassion. So it’s kind of silly to look at each color as being ‘just one thing’.

So how do they, and their different incarnations, approach the trolley problem? At least, according to me, a totally legitimate source?

White doesn’t react. Not to the problem itself. The trains have been safe so far, designed well, always on time. The idea that the problem has occurred is either a freak accident, or a malicious attack, and it isn’t prepared to make a snap-decision. That’s not what white does. It planned out a civil order, and the disruption of that order isn’t something it can cope with. In the aftermath, new safety features will be introduced, not out of fear but out of determination to prevent a repeat, and the rate of trolley problems will be permanently reuced. Track unchanged, five dead.

Blue rejects the idea that there is a dichotomy of choice. Pull a switch to decide who lives and who dies? Arbitrary mechanics are for theoretical discussions, and theory never survives contact with the real world. Blue is the color of decision, and it is never satisfied with a simple yes or no, unless the ‘no’ is being dictated to someone else. There are always options. Always spells that can change the situation. Temporary flight, intangibility, short range teleportation, even simple telepathy to warn down the track. Blue tries a half dozen things that do not involve the lever, and it probably works, in a way. But none of those choices stop the runway trolley, and so while none of the ethical targets are harmed, there are still consequences. Track unchanged, three dead, but none of them the ones tied to the tracks.

Black rejects the idea that there is someone forcing it to make a choice. Pull a switch to decide who lives and dies? Energizing, yes, but black didn’t make the switch. Someone put it there and forced a hand onto it, and nothing pisses off black like being told it has to do anything. And what is the point of having power if you don’t use it to spite theoretical ethicists who would pretend they own you? The trains were built with blood and bone, after all, and that power still lingers. Black will not obey the test, but the train will obey black, and this sham of an experiment stops now. Track unchanged, no deaths, but someone already paid the price.

Red sees the train as an object of freedom. Open travel, for anyone? And at speed, even! It is majestic, and glorious, and coating it in blood and death would ruin the mood. More than that, it’s disgusting to deprive anyone of freedom, especially the poor idiots tied to the track. But fire eats ropes and pure speed moves legs, just as well as fire fuels the engine and speed turns gears, and everyone can get clear without impeding the grand beast. Though maybe pull the lever anyway just to see where the other track goes. Track changed, none dead, though several singed and at least one pair of pants immolated entirely.

Green sees the train, the tracks, the switch, and the victims, all as intruders. There is no such thing as ethics, there is only the natural push and pull of territory. Life and death, growth and decay, the train and the tied up lives are not separate from these things, they are just more players in the game of ecosystem. Green doesn’t make a choice, though it will mourn the dead, and delight in the life that springs from their passing. Track unchanged, five dead.

In another world, white sees the train out of control, and a hero steps in. A shining figure in pure armor, made strong through righteousness and impervious through belief. There is no need to choose when there is a better way, a kinder way, a heroic way. Track unchanged, no deaths, one hero injured, which may mean something tomorrow for the next train.

In another world, blue is presented the choice, and begins to calculate. One is less than five, yes, but variables exist in all things. What is the value of each life? Ages, education, careers, what is their total worth? Is it ethical to decide the value of living? No. But it is not ethical to participate at all, and yet, blue is the color of reality, and it must face the truth that it cannot save everyone. The lever is not pulled. Track unchanged, the most important life survives.

In another world, black is given the lever, and told who is on the tracks. Someone they know is among the five. There is no hesitation or even really a decision to be made. Thinking about it later will bring guilt, pain, and loathing. Thinking further will bring anger and a bitter hate that will mean something quite bad for whoever arranged the test. But now, there is someone who black cares for, and that is all that matters. Track changed, one dead, more dead later when black catches up to the proctor.

In another world, red is given the lever, and wonders why anyone bothered. This train is their creation, a golem construct of stone and lightning, elemental in all ways and chained to red’s will. It cannot go ‘out of control’, because it only exists as part of the expression of control over the elements of nature themself. The train stops. Track unchanged, zero dead.

In another world, green is given the lever, and told to choose, and its heart breaks. All life is precious, and it is unthinkable to cut short any living thing, especially with a vile piece of machinery. Green rejects the choice, but more than that, it rejects the assault of structured control upon the living world. The train rusts, metal flaking away. Wheels are threaded with roots and ground to a halt. The flame in the engine is smothered by life giving waters, the steam released to be little more than a temporary hint of rain. The wood of the tracks becomes nests for termites and ants, the spikes and rails lasting longer until they are gone, but devoid of mechanical context. Track removed, zero dead now, though all things pass in time.

Somewhere else, white doesn’t even look at the lever. The train has a schedule, and it runs on time. If anyone is on the tracks, that is an individual problem, and white does not deal in the individual. It deals in society, in civilization, as a unit. The state is the person, the nation is the center of value. Some may die, but they are pieces of the whole, and they are replaceable. The bumps are statistical. Track unchanged to prevent delays, five dead today.

Somewhere else, blue’s choice becomes an infinite web of debate. Ethics is, at its core, the process of thinking about the world, and the meaning that is ascribed to it, and blue does so love meaning and scribing in equal measure. It is possible to lose sight of reality in the depth of the question, in the sea of reasons for the two options. What does it mean, after all, to make a choice? What does it mean to engage with the world? To blue, now, it means that an imperfect option is better than no option. Track diverted, one dead.

Somewhere else, black raises an eyebrow and watches the train with eager anticipation. One of their enemies is among the five, and black would have pulled the lever to divert the train back if it had somehow skipped tracks. What is a little cost in blood - other people’s blood, of course - to remove an obstacle from the board? Not only that, but there is a resource among the dead. Their wealth, perhaps, or some aspect of their ‘souls’, if such things exist, or even just their bones if all that doesn’t matter. Track unchanged, five dead, though it wasn’t personal for four of them.

Somewhere else, red has the lever and the choice for only a few seconds before it has broken both of them. The train fails to divert, but also fails to stay on its own track. Something has gone wrong, but ‘wrong’ is a matter of perspective. Perhaps it is better to say, red has caused something to go ‘interesting’. The maneuver is reckless, passionate without thought behind it, and ultimately, causes more damage than it prevents. But they were never told to prevent damage, and even if they were, red would break that command just like the lever itself. Track… altered, none dead, seventy one passengers injured, one month of train repairs required.

Somewhere else, green keeps peaceful watch on the thing that others might call a ‘train’. The tracks are a footpath, the lever is a branch that means nothing, because there is no need in green’s world for any of the factors that would cause the hypothetical. Speed is a matter for those who need to rush, dichotomies are for those who have trapped themselves. The people tied up ahead of the train-beast are, at best, humoring the proctor. The bindings are living rope, and the harmony of life means they are only as constrained as they wish to be. Perhaps for one or more, this is a method of deliberate passing, but for green, making a choice, it is a simple matter of nudging the vibrant world into a more harmonious form. Tracks were never here, zero dead that did not wish it.

Elsewhere, white is tied to a series of rail tracks. One decision is out of their hands, but white is not a color that gives in to despair. Whether it will work, or not, they begin to form a shield. For themself, or for the others around them, futile or not, white is defiant right up until the moment the train makes it moot. They hope that someone with recognizable sanity is holding the lever. If green makes the choice, then at least white’s possible death will have some utility. If blue does, then they trust that their neighbor will make the right call and not kill them personally at all. But neither black nor red can be trusted with consistency, and so if it is them… well. White will find out too late.

Elsewhere, blue is tied to a series of rail tracks. The decision is out of their hands, but attempting to confine the master of decisions is a fool’s errand. Blue is nothing if not capable of turning knowledge into tricks, and there are so many ways out of this that it may as well not be a test. Academically, they regret interfering, but practically, blue has already dispelled the bindings. If it were a friendly face of white, or an ambitious face of black, they could maybe take the gamble on a nap. But no one ever knows what disorganized wildness is present in green or red, and until that wilderness of ethics can be studied, blue doesn’t want to find out up close and in person.

Elsewhere, black is tied to a series of rail tracks. The decision is technically out of their hands, but black’s presence here is likely a consequence for something. After all, a price must always be paid, and sometimes, the price can no longer be offloaded onto others. They look, hoping they are at the back of the five, with bodies to put in between themself and death, but black is dismayed to find themself alone. Which means they can’t trust white, who will choose the ‘kind’ option of sparing the most people, nor green, who thinks that ‘life is precious’ and would arrive at the same decision. Blue might help, if black could offer something of value, and red, well, red would do it for the sake of their friendship alone. But no matter what happens, black is going to come out of this angrier than they went in.

Elsewhere, red is tied up, and that is enough to make red want to start with fire, move up to lightning, pass through geomancy and hydrokinesis, and quickly work up to just throwing explosions around until this situation resolves itself. There is, somewhere, a train. But red doesn’t plan to play by the rules that says they have to be on the track when the train arrives. When the game is unfair to you, stop playing the game. White doesn’t understand that mood, and while it understands the utility of violence, it can’t be trusted to not write red off as a risk. Blue is similar, but less self-aggrandizing about it. Black and green might help, just because they often share aspects of freedom, but more than almost any other color, red finds itself on its own a lot.

Elsewhere, green is tied to train tracks. They struggle, as any living animal would. They plan, as a druid might. They beg, as one with faith often does. But in the end, it is just their connection to the world against the train’s connection to their body, and the rule of force is a hard one to ignore. They hope that the fires in the train, either of civilization or of freedom, will understand that they do not want to die, though white and red often disagree on exactly why one should strive to live. Blue feels so distant, that green wouldn’t really trust it alone to feel the living world. Black is similarly too turned inward. Though at least, if green dies, black can make use of the body.

And for many trains, there is a simple switch that stops the process entirely. Colorless doesn’t really care what the train is used for, but it would prefer, overall, that the phrase ‘out of control’ never enter the equation.

And more. So many more. Worlds beyond counting, trains of every make and model and some weirder variables besides. Each color wears a mask to its fellows, often to match their own masks in some way. Though they would all perhaps say that the mask they wear for themselves is their true form. But the truth is there is no true form. Each one has its own expression of so many ideas. Primal or civilized, selfish or heroic, cruel or kind, every color knows how to do them all in their own way.

Maybe this is why Rosewater’s post was kind of myopic and clipped. Maybe the guy whose job is shaping all these worlds didn’t have time to express all the various values and virtues and vices of the fragments those worlds call magic. After all, this took me an hour I should have been spending writing something else.