Can you tell they don't like Dwarves in Magic RnD?
Radagast
★★★☆☆ (3.0/5.0)(2 votes)
Indeed, more proof that R&D hates Dwarves.
For that matter, when was the last time a Dwarf was even printed? And I think there are only 2 Dwarves in the game that don't get chomped to death by things like Grey Ogres.
At least the effect ends when the turn ends. Imagine how broken it would be if it didn't.... *sounds of crickets chirping* Okay, then - moving along...
NARFNra
★★★★★ (5.0/5.0)(2 votes)
@Radagast
Mildly recently, if you count the Duergars from Shadowmoor
I always enjoy when older magic cards have long rambling text explanations, only to be errata'd into about 5 or 6 words on gatherer. Limited to say the least, but can have it's uses, for example it can be used on an opponent's creature to make it red for some interesting effects, such as Controlled Instincts. It can also be used offensively, for example if you are attacking with Akroma, Angel of Wrath you could make all of your opponent's creatures red, making Akroma unblockable (due to protection from red).
A3Kitsune
☆☆☆☆☆ (0.0/5.0)
@Radagast
Zendikar block.
Sasooli
★★★★★ (5.0/5.0)(1 vote)
Wild Defiance turns this into a Giant Growth that hits all your creatures at once!
Equinox523
☆☆☆☆☆ (0.0/5.0)
Drop Justice, and then play this as your opponent attacks.
DarthParallax
☆☆☆☆☆ (0.0/5.0)
Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To seek our pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells, In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish lord There many a gleaming golden hoard They shaped and wrought, and light they caught, To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, on twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To claim our long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves, And harps of gold, where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the heights, The wind was moaning in the night, The fire was red, it flaming spread, The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the dale, And men looked up with faces pale. The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire, Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon. The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled the hall to dying fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the Misty Mountains grim, To dungeons deep and caverns dim, We must away, ere break of day, To win our harps and gold from him!
The wind was on the withered heath, But in the forest stirred no leaf: There shadows lay be night or day, And dark things silent crept beneath.
The wind came down from mountains cold, And like a tide it roared and rolled. The branches groaned, the forest moaned, And leaves were laid upon the mould.
The wind went on from West to East; All movement in the forest ceased. But shrill and harsh across the marsh, Its whistling voices were released.
The grasses hissed, their tassels bent, The reeds were rattling—on it went. O'er shaken pool under heavens cool, Where racing clouds were torn and rent.
It passed the Lonely Mountain bare, And swept above the dragon's lair: There black and dark lay boulders stark, And flying smoke was in the air.
It left the world and took its flight Over the wide seas of the night. The moon set sale upon the gale, And stars were fanned to leaping light.
Under the Mountain dark and tall, The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall!
The sword is sharp, the spear is long, The arrow swift, the Gate is strong. The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver necklaces they strung The light of stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, from twisted wire The melody of harps they wrung.
The mountain throne once more is freed! O! Wandering folk, the summons heed! Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste! The king of friend and kin has need.
Now call we over the mountains cold, 'Come back unto the caverns old!' Here at the gates the king awaits, His hands are rich with gems and gold.
The king has come unto his hall Under the Mountain dark and tall. The Worm of Dread is slain and dead, And ever so our foes shall fall!
Farewell we call to hearth and hall! Though wind may blow and rain may fall, We must away, ere break of day Far over the wood and mountain tall.
To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell. Through moor and waste we ride in haste, And whither then we cannot tell.
With foes ahead, behind us dread, Beneath the sky shall be our bed, Until at last our toil be passed, Our journey done, our errand sped.
We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!
N03y3D33R
☆☆☆☆☆ (0.0/5.0)
You can trigger heroic on all your creatures at once at any time for one mana? Well it finally has a relevant use.
Comments (19)
Alternatively, never play any of these cards.
-Demolish
-Dwarven Soldier
-Subterranean Spirit
-Dwarven Driller
For that matter, when was the last time a Dwarf was even printed? And I think there are only 2 Dwarves in the game that don't get chomped to death by things like Grey Ogres.
At least the effect ends when the turn ends. Imagine how broken it would be if it didn't.... *sounds of crickets chirping* Okay, then - moving along...
Mildly recently, if you count the Duergars from Shadowmoor
Dick noses.
Zendikar block.
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves,
And harps of gold, where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread,
The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the dale,
And men looked up with faces pale.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon.
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled the hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the Misty Mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!
The wind was on the withered heath,
But in the forest stirred no leaf:
There shadows lay be night or day,
And dark things silent crept beneath.
The wind came down from mountains cold,
And like a tide it roared and rolled.
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.
The wind went on from West to East;
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh across the marsh,
Its whistling voices were released.
The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
The reeds were rattling—on it went.
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,
Where racing clouds were torn and rent.
It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,
And swept above the dragon's lair:
There black and dark lay boulders stark,
And flying smoke was in the air.
It left the world and took its flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sale upon the gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.
Under the Mountain dark and tall,
The King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes shall fall!
The sword is sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong.
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.
The mountain throne once more is freed!
O! Wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of friend and kin has need.
Now call we over the mountains cold,
'Come back unto the caverns old!'
Here at the gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with gems and gold.
The king has come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall.
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foes shall fall!
Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away, ere break of day
Far over the wood and mountain tall.
To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell.
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.
With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.
We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!
Well it finally has a relevant use.