Dragon's Maze

Representing the Orzhov was a tall, well-dressed noblewoman Jace didn’t recognize. The identities of the Orzhov knights around her were concealed by full helmets; instead of faces they bore only the Orzhov’s black sunburst symbol. Small, ugly, gray-skinned servant creatures attended to their black capes. Jace noticed that Orzhov priests were filtering through the crowd, whispering to the other competitors, probably asking, or offering bribes, for information. Jace knew the Izzet had researched the maze heavily, and the Dimir and the Gruul at least had an inkling of what was going on. He wondered how the other guilds would fare, how much they knew of the route.

A brown-bearded, broad-chested man clad in massive-shouldered plate armor led a battalion of soldiers, the symbol of the Boros Legion emblazoned on white cloth draped over their armor. Their soldiers were a variety of races, including humans, a minotaur with a permanent scowl on her face, an impatient-looking goblin, and even some kind of humanoid fire elemental, whose Boros armor floated in protective positions over its animate flame.

The Simic representative was a stern-looking mage whose parentage appeared to be partly human and partly aquatic, possibly merfolk; he rode astride a creature that seemed the offspring of a giant, blue-carapaced crab and an irate squid. The Simic squad was rounded out by a host of mages clad in scale armor, and improbable hybrid fusions of scaled, finned, and shelled creatures. Jace had not had occasion to encounter the Simic Combine directly, but knew that their vision of progress was in expanding the accepted boundaries of what constituted living things, and their strange menagerie certainly attested to that.

An Izzet mage, the same man who presented the dragon’s announcement at the Rough Crowd battle, stood atop a ten-sided wooden stage in the center of the Promenade, surrounded by a group of other mages. Next to him was an icy, loosely humanoid elemental that looked like a cross between multiple forms of energy. No doubt it was some creation of the Izzet, but whether it was an actual entrant or a companion to the other Izzet guild members, Jace could not discern.

The Izzet mage’s bronze-colored gauntlet crackled with jagged arcs of lightning as he raised it, calling for silence.

“Attention maze-runners and delegations of the guilds,” he said. “I am Ral Zarek, official representative for the Izzet League.” Some of the crowd grunted and groaned. Zarek’s upper lip flared in a sneer of contempt. “You are all here because the Great Firemind Niv-Mizzet has invited you to take part in his grand Izzet experiment, the race of the Implicit Maze.”

The crowd grumbled and catcalled. “It’s not your maze, madman!” yelled a Boros soldier.

“Just start the killing already,” a Rakdos warrior hooted.

Jace scanned the crowd. No Selesnya delegation had arrived. No Emmara.

“You should feel very fortunate that you are being included in this experiment,” continued Zarek. “We have determined that participation of all the guilds is required. In a few moments, the official maze-runners will take their place in the square, and the race will begin. The maze requires that your official runner be present at each maze location. Once your runner has entered, no other being will be considered able to trace the route for your guild.”

“What do we win?” called one of the Boros legionnaires.

“The prize has not been announced,” said Zarek.

“Because you don’t know!” the man jeered.

A crack of thunder rattled the naked sky, and many in the crowd jumped. “You only reveal your own ignorance, soldier,” Zarek said. “Although this may appear to be a game, this maze is very serious, indeed. The route has been a secret since the time of the paruns. Its discovery was only made possible by the death of the Guildpact that once barred the guilds from war. And its completion will prove which guilds shall kneel, and which guild shall rule.”

Even the more orderly guilds shouted their objections to that. The Boros had their weapons in hand, battle faces on. The troll Varolz snarled and beat his chest with his huge club. The Azorius lawmages surrounding Lavinia chanted some kind of protection spell, scribing runes on the air in a circle around their delegation.

“Now approach, runners!” Zarek called over the crowd. “Tell me your name and guild, and have your champion counted.”

One by one, the chosen runners from all the assembled guilds approached Zarek at the stage. Jace plied the crowd with his mind, trying to identify Emmara’s thoughts, but found nothing.

“Commander Tajic of the Boros Legion.”

“Lavinia of the Tenth District, official delegate for the Azorius Senate.”

“Varolz. Golgari.”

“Ruric Thar. The Gruul will devour this city!” Roars of enthusiasm.

“Vorel of the Hull Clade. Simic Combine.”

“Teysa Karlov, envoy for the ruling council of the Orzhov Syndicate.”