Vraska looked over the plan, a smirk working its way to her lips. If things went as her shamans planned the Boros recruits would never know what hit them. But there was one part of the plan that seemed problematic. “This, here,” she tapped. “What’ll stop them from reaching the protection of their guildmages if they go down this passage?” The two shamans smiled. Vraska’s gaze darted between them, “What?”
“We hope they do.”
“We’ve worked an agreement with a Dimir agent. She’ll be waiting with the soot. As the Boros run down that passage in hopes of finding protection, they’ll meet death. If we’re lucky, more Boros fools will leave the safety of their gate.”
“Dimir.” Vraska’s lip curled. “I don’t like that part. What’ll stop her from taking the soot and learning our secrets?” Again the shamans smiled.
“That would be wonderful.”
“Oh? You’ve thought this all out, mm?”
“We believe so, my queen. You see, the soot the Dimir agent will be using is contained in one of our lockets. Modified, made a little bigger, but the idea is the same.”
Vraska laughed. “And where she goes will be known to us…I love it.”
The bodies of the Boros soldiers fell gasping, clawing at their throats, begging for life. Guildmages and captains rushed from the nearby guildgate to save their friends, but the Golgari soot brought them to their knees. The weak died in moments. The stronger were able to crawl their way back to the gate. The Boros legion could only watch their brothers and sisters fall to the cloying soot.
Before any of the Boros dared venture beyond the protection of their gate a half dozen Golgari arrived. A pair of shaman watched over by a guildmage and a few raiders. The shamans worked fast, gathering up the Boros armor. They stashed the pieces in bags, and left almost as soon as they’d come. Behind the gate the rest of the Boros soldiers could only watch as any trace of their friends was swept away.
As they wound their way through the maze of the Undercity, the two shamans looked over some the smaller pieces of Boros armor. The metal smelled of fast deaths. “We couldn’t have hoped for much better. The spores will take to these for sure.”
One of the raiders asked, “What is it you like about using the Boros’ armor as planters?”
“The Boros Legion believes that might can win any fight. The spores feed on that. Theirs is a battle of patience. In time, all will learn not to underestimate the gifts of the dead.”