Welcome to the
Are you ready to experience Magic: The Gathering like never before? Introducing "The King and the Machiavelli Prince," a fresh and strategic twist on the classic Two-Headed Giant format, combined with the unique drafting mechanics of Supreme Draft. This format is designed for players who love deep strategy, mind games, and the thrill of teamwork.
Just like in traditional Two-Headed Giant, each team consists of two players: The King and the Machiavelli Prince. Teams will draft and play together, sharing a life total and taking their turns simultaneously.
The draft in "The King and the Machiavelli Prince" is where the magic happens:
This process repeats 18 times, leaving the King with 36 top-tier cards and the Machiavelli Prince with a pool of 54 cards, rich with strategic possibilities.
Once the draft is complete, it's time for teams to build their decks:
Standard Two-Headed Giant rules apply during gameplay:
Victory conditions remain the same: reduce the opposing team’s life total to 0 or achieve any other win condition specific to the format.
This variant offers a fresh take on Magic: The Gathering, combining the thrill of Supreme Draft with the teamwork and strategy of Two-Headed Giant. Whether you’re a seasoned veteran or a newer player, "The King and the Machiavelli Prince" provides a unique challenge that tests both your drafting skills and your ability to work as a team.
Gather your allies, sharpen your wits, and dive into a format where every pick, every card, and every decision counts.
Magic: The Gathering players are always on the lookout for versatile and compact formats that offer flexibility and fun. Enter the 12-Pack Bundle Cube—a fresh approach to mini cubes that leverages the strengths of the classic Bundle product and elevates it to new heights.
The MTG Bundle has long been a favorite product among players. It’s packed with value, containing booster packs, a spindown life counter, and plenty of land cards, all housed in a sturdy storage box. However, there’s room for improvement, especially when it comes to optimizing the Bundle for different gameplay experiences. That’s where the 12-Pack Bundle Cube comes in.
The traditional Bundle includes 8-10 booster packs, but by expanding this to 12 packs, we unlock a world of possibilities:
One of the standout features of the 12-Pack Bundle Cube is its portability. The entire mini cube fits neatly into the retail Bundle box, making it easy to carry to game nights or tournaments. The box even has enough room to include lands, tokens, and dice for up to four players, ensuring you’re fully equipped for gameplay, wherever you go.
In this Four-Player Draft, each player makes two picks on each pass. After the draft, teams are formed with the players seated on opposite diagonal seats to be on the same side, and then shifting the format into a Two-Headed Giant game rather than a free-for-all. This approach draws inspiration from Magic: The Gathering’s first Two-Headed Giant set, Battlebond, emphasizing those ‘high-five moments’ that make the format so thrilling.
The 12-Pack Bundle Cube is perfect for players who want a flexible, portable, and fun Magic: The Gathering experience. Whether you’re looking to engage in a two-player Sealed duel or host a four-player draft, this mini cube format has you covered. By using the Bundle as a base and incorporating the collaborative and exciting elements of Battlebond, this format brings a fresh twist to your MTG sessions.
So gather your friends, grab a 12-Pack Bundle Cube, and dive into a format that’s as versatile as it is fun. With every pack, you’re not just building a deck—you’re creating an experience.
Prepare to descend into the unknown. Nethoria, my latest creation, is set to emerge from the void. A tale woven in the eerie silence of a time-traveling space graveyard, where memories of the lost and forgotten whisper through the cosmos.
The boundaries of time and reality blur as Nethoria unfolds, drawing you deeper into a world where the past haunts the present, and the future is but a shadow of what once was.
Dare to enter? Keep your senses sharp and your fears closer. The release of Nethoria is imminent.
#Nethoria #LoreDaddy #ComingSoonIn a time when the multiverse teeters on the brink of chaos, the fractured plane of Nethoria stands as a nexus of despair and power. Once a thriving world, it is now a desolate graveyard where time itself is shattered, haunted by the remnants of lost civilizations. The ancient and mysterious plane is shrouded in the Aether's Veil, a powerful force that draws in those with the ability to traverse the planes. Many have come seeking power, only to be consumed by the plane's eerie magic and the horrors lurking within. Among them, the enigmatic planeswalker Anara arrives, driven by a vision of the looming darkness threatening not just Nethoria, but the entire multiverse. As the forces of darkness gather, the Anara must uncover the secrets of Nethoria's shattered timeline and confront the malevolent entity that dwells within the Veil. Their only hope lies in mastering the arcane forces of the plane, before the shadows consume them all...
Teferi had always known that time was a delicate thread, one that, if pulled too hard, could unravel the fabric of reality itself. Yet, when faced with the desperate need to save his homeland of Zhalfir, he had made a choice—a choice that would echo across the multiverse in ways he could never have imagined.
When Teferi phased Zhalfir out of existence to protect it from the horrors of the Phyrexian invasion, he thought he was merely removing it from the timeline, saving his people from certain destruction. But when he eventually brought Zhalfir back, he unknowingly disturbed the balance of the multiverse. The delicate threads that held the planes together were stretched, their underlying support weakened.
In doing so, Teferi had set in motion a chain of events that would lead to the slow collapse of multiple planes, with each world beginning to sag under its own weight, its connection to the multiverse compromised. The first plane to give way was a world dear to one of those who would become his closest ally.
Anara had always been attuned to the flow of time, but she had never felt anything like the tremors that began to shake her homeworld. The skies darkened, and the ground trembled as reality itself seemed to buckle. She could feel it in her very soul—her world was slipping away, being pulled into something dark and terrible.
At first, Anara didn’t understand what was happening. She could see the signs, the cracks in the sky, the way time seemed to stutter and skip, but she didn’t know the cause. It wasn’t until the rift opened—a tear in the fabric of reality itself—that she understood her world was being drawn into something far worse than a simple collapse. It was being pulled into Nethoria.
Nethoria, the plane of forgotten timelines and lost histories, was a place of chaos and darkness. It existed on the fringes of the multiverse, a dumping ground for broken realities and abandoned timelines. And now, it was swallowing her homeworld.
Desperate to save her people, Anara used her powers to glimpse alternate timelines, hoping to find one where her world could be saved. But every path led to the same conclusion—her world was doomed unless she could stop the collapse.
But even as she fought, the pull of Nethoria grew stronger. Buildings began to crumble, time loops formed, trapping people in endless cycles of their last moments, and the sky itself seemed to rip apart as the rift widened. The world was being drawn into Nethoria, and there was nothing Anara could do to stop it.
In her last, desperate attempt, Anara planeswalked away from her home, hoping to find help. When she returned, it was already too late—her world had been consumed by Nethoria, lost to the plane of forgotten timelines.
When Anara found herself on a distant plane, she sought out the only person who might be able to help her understand what had happened—Teferi, the time mage. She had heard of his power, his mastery over time itself, and she knew that if anyone could explain the collapse of her world, it would be him.
Teferi listened as Anara told him about the collapse of her homeworld, about the way it had been drawn into Nethoria. He could hear the pain in her voice, the desperation of someone who had lost everything. But as she described the signs of the collapse, something stirred in Teferi’s memory—something he had hoped to forget.
When he had saved Zhalfir, he had known that his actions might have consequences. But he had never imagined that those consequences would be so far-reaching, that they would affect the very structure of the multiverse. As Anara spoke, Teferi realized with growing horror that the collapse of her world had been his doing.
He had altered the way the planes of the multiverse were supported when he phased Zhalfir back into existence. The delicate balance that held the planes together had been disrupted, and Anara’s homeworld had been the first to collapse under the strain. It had sagged and fallen into Nethoria, a plane that fed on broken realities and forgotten timelines.
Teferi was overcome with guilt. He had tried to save one world, only to doom another. He explained to Anara what had happened, how his actions had unknowingly caused the collapse of her home. But Anara’s response was not what he expected.
Instead of anger, she showed understanding. "You didn’t mean for this to happen," she said softly. "But now that we know the truth, we have to find a way to fix it. My world may be gone, but we can stop this from happening to others."
Teferi nodded, determination settling in his heart. "We have to stop Nethoria from consuming any more worlds. And to do that, we need to explore the Nexus of Forgotten Timelines. It’s the key to understanding how Nethoria feeds on collapsing planes. But we have to be careful—the Nexus is dangerous, and if we’re not careful, it could consume us as well."
The echoes of battle never seemed to end.
Gideon stood in the midst of a ruined battlefield, his sural glowing faintly as he surveyed the scene. He had been here before—too many times to count—reliving the same desperate fight over and over again. The fallen around him, once comrades and enemies alike, were caught in a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth, their souls trapped by the relentless grip of Nethoria’s temporal distortions.
Each time the loop reset, Gideon found himself back at the start, surrounded by the same faces, the same cries of war, the same aching sense of failure. He had tried countless times to change the outcome, to save those who fell around him, but the loop was unyielding. No matter what he did, the end was always the same—a haunting, echoing silence as the last of the combatants fell, and the loop began again.
He remembered how it began, how he was caught in this endless loop. He had been searching for a way out of Nethoria, determined to fight against the plane's pull, when the ground beneath him had shifted. Reality itself seemed to fold around him, dragging him into this fractured timeline where the War of the Spark replayed endlessly, a twisted reflection of the sacrifice he had made.
As Gideon watched, the familiar scene played out once more. Figures from his past—friends, allies, enemies—charged forward, their faces grim with determination, only to be struck down by the relentless onslaught of Bolas. He clenched his fists, knowing he was powerless to change the past, even as he fought to break free from its grip.
Then, in a moment of shocking clarity, Teferi appeared—accidentally stepping into the loop. The time mage's eyes widened as he recognized Gideon, a friend he thought lost forever. His presence was an anomaly, something that shouldn’t be possible in this fractured timeline.
Gideon stared in disbelief, his heart racing. Before he could react, a figure emerged beside Teferi. It was Anara, a planeswalker Gideon had never met before. She was different from the others, her presence another anomaly in the loop.
“Gideon!” Teferi called out, rushing towards him. “We have to get you out of here!”
Gideon’s hope flared. With renewed determination, he fought his way through the battlefield, cutting through the enemies that blocked his path. Teferi and Anara moved quickly, working together to disrupt the loop’s hold.
Just as the loop began to reset, Teferi and Anara focused their combined powers. The world around them shimmered and warped, and instead of being pulled back into the cycle, Gideon felt a powerful force drawing him towards them. Their hands clasped, and in that moment, the loop shattered.
Gideon blinked as the world around him shifted. The battlefield dissolved, replaced by the eerie, twilight landscape of Nethoria. He was free—free from the endless loop, free from the haunting memories that had bound him. Teferi and Anara’s presence was a grounding force, their connection to Nethoria anchoring them all in the present timeline.
“We have to move quickly,” Anara said, her voice steady, yet filled with the urgency of their situation. “Nethoria isn’t done with us yet, and there’s much we need to do.”
Gideon nodded, his grip on his sural tightening. He had been lost in the twisted timelines of Nethoria for what felt like an eternity, but now, with Teferi and Anara by his side, he had a chance to fight back—to set things right.
Together, they turned to face the ever-shifting landscape, knowing that their battle was far from over, but at least now, they were not fighting alone.
The moment they stepped onto the plane, the atmosphere felt heavy, as if the very air was thick with the weight of lost memories. The sky above was a swirling vortex of dark clouds, occasionally pierced by flashes of light from alternate realities bleeding into one another. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, with fractured pieces of land floating in the air, shifting in and out of existence.
Teferi, the master of time, immediately sensed the temporal distortions that pervaded the plane. "Time is not stable here," he said, his voice tinged with concern. "We must be careful. Even a single misstep could trap us in a loop or erase us from existence."
Gideon, always the protector, placed a reassuring hand on Anara's shoulder. "We'll get through this, together. Let's stay focused and find out what we're dealing with."
Anara, the newest planeswalker among them, nodded, though her eyes were wide with both fear and curiosity. She had the unique ability to glimpse alternate timelines, and already, she could see flashes of what had once been, and what could still come to pass.
As they journeyed deeper into Nethoria, the landscape became increasingly surreal. The ground beneath them shifted and twisted, leading them through dark forests where the trees whispered forgotten secrets, across desolate plains where the shadows of lost battles played out in an endless loop, and past towering cliffs that seemed to stretch on forever into the sky.
The group soon realized that they were being led toward the center of the plane, where the Nexus of Forgotten Timelines awaited. But the journey was not straightforward. The path was constantly changing, forcing them to rely on Anara's visions to find their way.
At one point, they found themselves in a ruined city, its buildings crumbling and overgrown with vines. The streets were littered with the remnants of a civilization long forgotten, and the air was thick with the scent of decay. As they explored the ruins, they encountered spirits trapped in time loops, reliving the final moments of their lives over and over again.
Gideon tried to comfort the spirits, but they seemed oblivious to his presence, their minds too far gone to be reached. "They're echoes of what was," Teferi explained. "Trapped here by the temporal distortions. There's nothing we can do for them."
But Anara was not so sure. She knelt beside one of the spirits, an elderly woman clutching a small, worn book. As she reached out to touch the woman, a flood of memories surged through her—images of the woman's life, her family, her hopes and dreams, all erased by the cataclysm that had befallen her world.
Anara gasped and pulled back, overwhelmed by the intensity of the vision. "We can't leave them like this," she said, her voice trembling. "We have to find a way to free them."
Teferi, who had been watching from a distance, nodded in agreement. "The Nexus is the key. If we can reach it, we might be able to restore these timelines, or at least put them to rest."
An unsettling silence pervades the landscape, broken only by the occasional whisper of souls trapped between timelines. Time itself is pulsing through the plane, struggling to maintain its fragile existence. Wisps of the Veil of Memories drift through the scene, showing glimpses of past events and alternate realities, further emphasizing the plane's precarious hold on time.
Anara is confronted by visions from her past—memories of Aetherveil, her lost homeworld, now twisted by Nethoria's decay. She encounters a future version of herself, scarred and broken by the plane's relentless erosion. These personal encounters deepen her resolve but also force her to confront the possibility that Nethoria’s fate may already be sealed.
Anara uncovers a chilling truth: the disturbances in Nethoria are not random. They follow a pattern. As she prepares to take her next step, the ground beneath her splits open, revealing a chasm filled with the shattered remains of countless timelines. The final shot lingers on her face, filled with determination and fear, as she realizes that the path forward may lead to her own destruction.
Anara discovers a cryptic message left by the twelve philosophers—ancient beings living together inside a massive brain hidden within the Veil of Memories. They speak of "The Wife," a gigantic creature to whom they are all wed, and warn of the dangers ahead. The message hints at a potential way to save Nethoria but suggests that the cost will be greater than Anara can imagine.
An eyeball, big, yellowish, and distinctly inhuman, stares out between neon links of a mana static cage. The eye darts from side to side, alert as hell.
A legend tries to place us—TARKIR—but to us, it's still the middle of nowhere.
It's quiet for a second. Then, a ROAR rises up from the jungle, deafening. The trees shake as something very, very large plows ahead through them, right at us. Every head gathered in this little clearing snaps, turning in the direction of the sound as it bursts through the trees.
It's a Naga rogue, its scales glistening in the moonlight, pushing forward into the back end of the crate, shoving it across the jungle floor towards an impressive fenced structure that towers over an enclosed section of thick jungle. There's a guard tower at one end of this holding pen, which makes it look like a prison.
The Naga rogue pushes forward, and the crate THUDS TO THE FLOOR. A link of the chain of the neon mana static cage cracks open.
Nobody moves for a second. A grim-faced guy who seems to be in charge steps forward (this is Sarkhan Vol, although we don't know it yet).
From Inside the Cage, we get glimpses of what's on the other side of the cage—jungle foliage, MEN with spears and magic talismans, searching lamplights. The view is herky-jerky as the cage is put into position.
For what felt like an eternity, Sarkhan Vol had been trapped in a twisted version of Tarkir, caught in an endless time loop orchestrated by the Khans. They had imprisoned him, chaining him in a cycle of battles where his beloved dragons fought tirelessly to free him from their grasp. Each day, the skies roared with the fury of dragons, their fire scorching the earth as they clashed with the armies of the enemy Khans. And each day, Sarkhan remained shackled by the loop, forced to relive the same struggles, the same desperate attempts to break free, only to be pulled back into the cycle again.
At first, Sarkhan had been content to remain where he was, reveling in the power of his dragon form, the thrill of battle, and the sense of belonging he felt among his kin. He believed that, given enough time, he could escape on his own terms, without the aid of anyone else. He had no interest in breaking free of the loop that kept him in constant combat with the Khans—it was where he belonged, where he felt most alive.
But then, Teferi appeared.
The time mage had been searching for a way to repair the damage done to the multiverse, to restore balance to the planes that had been thrown into chaos by the unraveling of time. He found Sarkhan trapped in his loop, a powerful warrior wasting his strength in a futile struggle. Teferi offered Sarkhan a deal—one that would grant him not only freedom from the loop but total rule over Tarkir. Teferi promised him that he would become the god-king and Dragonlord of the land, with his dragons free to rule the skies as they pleased.
At first, Sarkhan was skeptical. He had long ago given up on such dreams, believing them to be nothing more than fantasies. But as Teferi spoke, painting a vivid picture of what could be—a world where dragons ruled supreme, where the Khans were nothing more than distant memories—Sarkhan began to see the possibilities. For the first time in years, the idea of breaking free from the loop seemed appealing.
Teferi’s offer was tempting, more tempting than anything Sarkhan had ever imagined. The thought of ruling Tarkir as a god-king, with his dragons soaring freely above, was too much to resist. He could feel the pull of freedom, the promise of power, and it stirred something deep within him.
With a sudden clarity, Sarkhan made his decision. He looked at Teferi, his eyes blazing with the fire of a thousand dragons, and said with a smirk, “Fuck it, I’m in.”
It was the first and only time Sarkhan ever used profanity, but the words carried the weight of his resolve. He was ready to embrace his destiny, to break free from the chains that had bound him for so long, and to claim the power that was rightfully his.
As the time loop shattered around him, Sarkhan felt a surge of energy, a burst of freedom that filled him with a sense of purpose. His dragons roared in triumph as they were finally freed from the endless battles, their wings stretching wide as they took to the skies. Sarkhan knew that the road ahead would not be easy, but with Teferi’s help, he would forge a new future for Tarkir—one where he ruled as the Dragonlord, the god-king of the land, with his dragons by his side.
Together, they would reshape Tarkir, bringing it under the rule of dragons, and nothing would stand in their way.
The ocean, filled with giant memory waves crashing on the shore, an eerie glow emanating from the overlapping realities that churn within.
SARKHAN VOL stands on the cliffs, his face a mask of stoic determination. He's been imprisoned in a time loop by the Khans, his dragons fighting tirelessly to free him from the enemy's grasp. But Sarkhan has remained, day after day, content to be where he belongs—amidst the chaos and battle.
Then, TEFERI appears, his form shimmering as he steps out of a time rift.
TEFERI: Sarkhan, I've seen every possible future, and there's only one where your dragons are free.
Sarkhan doesn't respond, his gaze fixed on the ocean.
TEFERI (cont'd): Rule Tarkir. Be its god-king. Free your dragons. I'll ensure it.
For a moment, there's silence. The memory waves crash against the shore, the sound of overlapping realities echoing in the air.
Finally, Sarkhan's resolve breaks. He turns to Teferi, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
SARKHAN (smirking): Fuck it, I'm in.
It's the first and only time Sarkhan has ever used profanity, but the words carry the weight of his resolve. The time loop shatters around him, the ocean's waves roaring as the dragons break free, soaring into the sky.
The sky is dark, with flashes of violet lightning illuminating the dense, twisted forest of Nethoria. A powerful storm brews overhead, the kind that can tear through the fabric of time itself. An Aetherwagon bounces along a path, leaving trails of flickering light in their wake.
Inside the Aetherwagon, Squee, a small, scrappy goblin with a perpetual grin, and Karn, a towering silver golem with a calm and measured demeanor, sit in the front. The interior is dimly lit by a softly glowing crystal embedded in the ceiling, casting eerie shadows across their faces.
SQUEE (looking out the window, fidgeting nervously): “Uh, Karn, you ever dealt with dragons before? Big, scary ones?”
KARN (his voice deep and resonant, with a hint of concern): “Yes, Squee. Dragons are formidable, but we must remain calm. Panic will only worsen our situation.”
Squee pulls out a small, makeshift flask, takes a sip, and offers it to Karn, who gently declines.
SQUEE (grinning nervously): “I like adventures, but this… this might be too much adventure.”
Karn looks out the window at the storm, his expression unchanging but his eyes narrowing slightly as the forest around them sways under the force of the wind.
The dense forest outside the Aetherwagon is shrouded in darkness, with the arcane storm growing more ferocious by the minute. The runes carved into the wagon's surface pulse with flickering energy, their glow struggling against the overwhelming power of the storm. The energy shield surrounding the wagon wavers, straining to hold its form.
Squee (fidgeting, flipping through a glowing tome with nervous energy): “There’s nothing exciting about waiting!”
Karn (sighing, his metal form gleaming faintly in the dim light): “Magic can only protect us from so much, Squee. The rest… is beyond our control.”
Suddenly, a BOOM reverberates through the forest, shaking the Aetherwagon violently. The energy shield around it flares brightly before dimming again, barely holding against the force pressing in from all sides.
Squee (alarmed, dropping the tome): “Did you feel that?!”
Karn (turning to look out the window, his eyes narrowing as he assesses the situation): “Something’s coming… and it’s powerful.”
Squee scrambles to the window, pressing his small face against the glass, peering anxiously into the darkened forest. The magical lights that usually illuminate the outside flicker weakly, casting long, ominous shadows. The heavy sound of massive wings flapping echoes through the night, growing closer with each beat.
The storm rages on, and the tension inside the Aetherwagon grows as Squee and Karn brace themselves for whatever is approaching from the depths of the storm.
A Void Dragon hovers ominously above Karn and Squee, who are trapped between the wreckage of the overturned Aetherwagon and the edge of a steep, shadowy drop into the abyss below. The dragon’s ethereal form pulses with dark energy, its eyes glowing with malevolent intent.
The Void Dragon continues its relentless pursuit, its spectral claws scraping against the Aetherwagon, pushing it closer to the edge. Karn and Squee scramble to avoid the dragon’s wrath and the shifting vehicle.
Squee (urgently): “This way, Karn! Hurry!”
The Aetherwagon groans under the dragon’s assault, nearly pinning them against the cliffside.
Karn (calmly): “Stay close to me, Squee.”
Karn grabs a thick, glowing chain from the wreckage, and with Squee clinging to his side, he begins to descend the side of the cliff, the Void Dragon looming above.
The chain is slick with rain and the essence of Nethoria, making it difficult for Karn and Squee to maintain their grip. Above them, the Aetherwagon teeters dangerously, on the verge of tumbling into the abyss.
Squee (gasping for breath): “Karn, I’m slipping!”
Karn, feeling Squee’s grip weaken, adjusts his hold, ensuring the goblin doesn’t fall. They continue their descent as the Aetherwagon creaks ominously above.
Karn: “We must hurry, Squee. The Aetherwagon won’t hold much longer.”
As the Aetherwagon teeters on the edge of the ledge, Squee’s eyes widen in exaggerated terror. The wagon’s energy shields flicker, casting erratic shadows on the rocky walls of the abyss. He grips onto a piece of the wagon, trembling.
Squee (panicked): “This is it! Squee’s gonna fall forever! Never gonna hit the bottom!”
Karn (calmly): “It’s not as far as you think, Squee. We’ll be okay.”
The Aetherwagon finally tips over the edge, plummeting down with a deafening crash. Squee yelps as the wagon falls, bracing for what he believes will be an endless descent. BELOW THE TREE LINE The Aetherwagon crashes into the upper branches of a massive, twisted tree, its roof creaking and bending in as it comes to rest precariously among the branches. The Void Dragon roars, frustrated as it stares down at them from above, realizing they are just out of reach. Squee and Karn cling to the chain, inches away from the Aetherwagon’s wreckage. Squee, hanging on for dear life, grips tightly and closes his eyes. The Void Dragon lets out a final, furious roar before turning and disappearing into the shadows of Nethoria’s stormy skies.But the fall ends abruptly with a surprisingly gentle thud.
Squee (opening one eye): “Huh? That’s it? We’re... we’re not in pieces?”
The Void Dragon, frustrated by their escape, lets out a final screech and retreats back into the shadows of Nethoria, its dark form dissolving into the depths.
Karn steps out of the wreckage, dusting himself off. He looks back at Squee, who’s still clinging to the front bench seat of the wagon, clearly embarrassed by his overreaction.
Karn (softly): “It wasn’t as far as you thought, Squee. The danger wasn’t in the fall, but in what could have happened if we hadn’t landed safely.”
Squee (grinning sheepishly): “Squee knew that... Just making sure the wagon stayed in one piece!”
Domri, in the tossed pile of clothes and supplies inside the wagon, emerges from the shadows. He’s bruised and shaken, but alive. He looks at Karn and Squee, guilt creeping onto his face.
Domri (breathing heavily): “That was way too close. What now?”
Karn (shocked): “Dom?! What are you doing here?!”
Squee (grinning): Not yet aware of his surroundings or even Karn's discovery of a youthful Domri. “Yeah! Squee’s not scared! Not even a little! Maybe just a little, but Squee’s still here!”
As they regroup on the ledge, it becomes clear that Domri wasn’t supposed to be on this adventure at all. The youngling looks around, realizing just how dangerous this hitchhiking escapade has become. He was supposed to be safe at home with his mom, not deep in the heart of Nethoria, dodging Void Dragons and teetering on the edge of peril.
Karn (gently): “Domri, this journey wasn’t meant for you. But now that you’re here, Just stay close.”
Squee (nodding): “Yeah! Squee’s got your back. Just, you know, maybe don’t jump into any more wagons.”
The three of them, begin their journey deeper into the heart of Nethorian canyon into a dungeon forest, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, knowing that they’ll watch out for each other, no matter what.
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