Liliana Vess Defiant Necromancer

Ravnica was a much better plane to do one's recovering on. For one thing, it was still intact (or, well, as intact as any plane could be that housed the Izzet, the Rakdos, the Gruul, and the Simic), which meant that they were no longer lacking in the creature comforts that a disaster-struck plane simply couldn't provide. Liliana had left Gared with a truly obscene amount of money and told him to start overseeing the repairs to the structure of Vess Manor as soon as he could find enough surviving competent craftspeople to handle them.

They had gotten some news in the intervening time; Olivia Voldaren lived and had proclaimed herself Lord of Innistrad. No one knew what had happened to Sorin, but he hadn't shown up and beheaded her with his claws for the audacity, so it was possible that the previous Lord of Innistrad hadn't survived the battle. Liliana privately assumed he'd Planeswalked elsewhere when the fighting had gotten to be too much, but Olivia certainly wasn't telling--not that Liliana had gone to confer with her 'friend' in person. Runo had also survived, or so the gossip said, though much of the Stromkirk line had been twisted by Emrakul's corruption. Piotr had been one so corrupted, and 'put down' by Thalia and her cathars in the new 'Order of Saint Traft,' whatever that was. Kristoff was said to have survived, though the same could not be said of most of his grandchildren, all of whom had been human and thus, easy prey. The Falkanraths had been similarly twisted, and rumors said there were barely a third of them remaining. The Markovs had, of course, been mostly slaughtered in their home (though Liliana now had an idea of what happened there), and while Olivia had declared herself the victor of the battle with Nahiri the Lithomancer and her army of Eldrazi spawn, a large percentage of her line had died on the battlefield as well.

It was truly a fascinating time in vampire politics right now, and if it didn't involve being on a plane where privation was a fact of life for even the most rich and powerful, Liliana would be gleefully watching as they all fought and scrabbled for power, probably with popcorn.

But since Innistrad was in such a pathetic state, they had decamped to Ravnica for a bit, where they could enjoy peace, plenty, and the pleasures of civilization. Liliana had merely had to mention the quality of healthcare she might receive at the Clinic to immediately convince Ignis that Ravnica was a much congenial locale for her recovery. And so it had been; in fact, they were even taking a stroll along the Transguild Promenade from the South Plaza towards the Gateway Plaza, where the Hall of the Guildpact - and, according to her spirit spies, the 'Headquarters of the Gatewatch' - were located.

What a crazy random happenstance.

[NFB for distance and for the paramour, please]

Horses' hoofbeats drummed a leisurely rhythm. The jagged mountains of the province called Stensia loomed ahead of them, but Jace's goal wasn't far beyond the border, and he had read enough of his guide's thoughts to know that they were close. "I don't know why I'm even bothering with her," said Jace. "I know better. And we didn't exactly leave off on the best of terms."

"Mm," said his guide. He was weathered and bearded, a man of few words. Jace had started filling the silence out of boredom, and had eventually gotten around to the subject of his visit.

"I mean, I've made a lot of bad decisions in my life, even just counting the ones I can remember. And an awful lot of them involve her."

"Hm," said his guide.

A chill rain fell from patchy clouds, and something howled in the night. Jace had only been on Innistrad for two days, and he already hated it. The only saving grace so far was a new leather coat he'd bought to keep the rain and some of the cold at bay. "Hell, part of me's hoping she'll throw me out on my ear and I can be done with her."

"Ah," said his guide.

The full moon peeked out from behind the clouds, its huge silver face marked with a shape that the locals called a heron. Jace could see the resemblance. "Problem is, I actually need her help this time," he said.

"Ahhhhh," said his guide, a strangled sound that Jace took to indicate boredom.

"I'm sorry," said Jace. "I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems." He prepared a spell that would cleanly excise the last few minutes of conversation from the man's mind.

"Ahhhhhrrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhh," said his guide. Not boredom. Anger?

Jace reached into the man's mind - and hit a wall of pure, all-encompassing rage, the savage half-thoughts of a predator. His guide turned to him, accompanied by the stomach-churning sounds of bones cracking and clothes tearing. His face had bulged horribly, one eye grown large and yellow, his jaw jutting outward. Both horses shifted nervously.

"Oh," said Jace.

( Werewolves. Why's it gotta be werewolves )

Something moved behind Jace. He rose to his feet and turned. In the darkness of the manor's yard, he could just barely make out a dozen figures standing silently around him. Now he smelled it, too, the stench of rot that had sent the werewolf on its way. A quick mental check confirmed it - there were no minds in these bodies. They were dead. They crowded around him without a sound, backing him up against the gates. Zombies crowding around him, a werewolf somewhere behind him, that damned moon glaring down over all of it...

The zombies stopped, then stirred and parted, leaving him a clear path to the mansion's ornate door. A welcoming committee. Her hospitality was everything he'd expected and then some.

( The Undying Necromancer, the Living Guildpact, and the Unwavering Soldier )

[Taken, folded, and spindled from "Unwelcome" by Kelley Digges and preplayed with the fantastic chef_chocobro. NFI, NFB, but OOC always welcome. Warning, as per usual, for length, next post here.]