merry christmas contest - Mega Miniatures

"Forgive me Mother," he whispered as his hands waved
again, this time a hog with two goblins astride it burst
forth and headed toward Fusarium. The swine riders had
barely made a step when the hog squealed in terror as if
something within its simple mind had ripped forth the
most horrific image possible to the simple beast. The pig
rolled on its side, dying in obvious agony. Lacombe, did
not stop, he called upon the green of his fields and a
warthog was stampeding toward Fusarium. The creatures
yellowish tusks coated with a frenzied froth. Its spindly tail
twisting in the air like some primitive war standard.
A knight in black armor, astride a jet black horse, rose
from the muck in front of the wizard poised to protect his
master. The knight's great shield bearing the signet of a
snarling dog set against black and white.
The warthog seemed not even to notice the knight's
presence. The hog simply waded through the swamp
untouched by the knight's sword. Just as the hog reached
Fusarium, Lacombe send forth a green blast of energy,
the warthog doubling in size, its now great tusks cutting
deeply into Fusarium's left leg. The black knight rushed
forward to avenge the wound, but an Orcish farmer with a
pig, not nearly as odorous as its keeper, appeared in front
of Lacombe.
While not as fierce in appearance as the rushing knight,
the Orc and pig proved formidable defenders, grappling
the knight from his mount. Both the knight and Orc dying
amid mortal wounds inflicted upon each other.
Lacombe conjured a herd of frothing Durkwood boars and
sent them into the fray. The herd of reddish boars,
grunted as they attacked, their white tusks seeming to
glisten in the sunlight. It appeared the Durkwood boars
would reach Fusarium until more dark energy flowed from
the swamp. Suddenly the bald visage of a vampire, blood
streaked across his face from lips to pointed ears flew into
the path of the boars. In a gnashing of tusk and fangs
both boars and vampire died.
Suddenly, a man cloaked in dull greens and grays
appeared before Fusarium. The man carried a gleaming
dagger dripping some viscous appearing liquid.
Ah a assassin of the royal house, thought Lacombe, as he
sent forth a bolt of lightning, erupting from a nearby rock
face. The assassin burned into nothingness.
The warthog attacked again, and while not growing to
giant size on this attack, once more slipped through the
swamp untouched. They were joined in the attack by a
new giant warthog, its eyes flashing blue green as if alive
with the very energy of the forest. The giant pig was met
bravely by a skeletal guard astride a skeletal mount
emerging from the earth, a once brave warrior conjured
to once more take up the sword in battle. The skeleton's
rusting sword attack doing little to slow the giant
warthog's attack. It simply trampled over the skeleton,
leaving it in broken pieces, attacking Fusarium with its
mighty tusks.
The skeleton's scattered bones came mysteriously back
together, ready to fend off yet another attack.
The giant warthog turned readying for another attack. It
took two steps and froze in mid step, as if paralyzed by
the very look from Fusarium. A second hollow specter
took shape in front of the dark caster. A burning
pentagram appeared behind the specter, and the
apparition's arms grew more muscled. It floated over the
ground, reaching D'roc above the futile efforts of
grounded defenders, its spear finding its mark pushing
through the flesh of his left shoulder.
D'roc grimaced at the pain, as the specter turned to attack
again. This time D'roc weaned a spell. A whitish, silk spun
forward as if spot by some unseen spider. The silk
enveloped the still marauding warthog, while at the same
time ensnaring the specter, dragging it to its death upon
the hog's now bloodied tusks.
D'roc, blood running down his arm stared hard at
Fusarium, himself bleeding from varied wounds.
"It ends now, this day, this moment and forever," said
D'roc amid pants of fatigue and pain. Both his arms rose
above his head, energies flowing from every rock and
stone with 100 yards. The energies of crackling fire
swirled into a burning ball between D'roc's hands. In one
motion he threw the great fire toward Fusarium.
There was nothing the dark mage could do. He pulled his
hands in front of his face in futile defiance before being
consumed in the fire. Fusarium's charred and smoking
body lay on the ground breathless. Then the body burst
into mere ashes carried away on the wind.
The battle was over.
"Now Mother it is finally over," whispered D'roc. He turned
back toward the pig pen, picking up his pail and slipping
over the fence to pour the slop into the nearby trough.
DEATH BY PIGS DECK
Building the perfect Magic deck - the one which can not
be beaten - is the Holy Grail of most players.
We've all toyed with weenie madness concepts. Decks
which destroy land, control the opponent with blue spells,
or constantly peel cards from their hands.
The debate over which is 'the best' deck will never be
answered since every deck concept has a nemesis to
which it is susceptible. So, why not take a break from
pouring over cards seeking killer combos, and instead
have a little fun fleshing out a concept deck. That was my
goal as I picked through my monster box of little used
common, and ineffective rares. But, what combination
would be the most fun as a theme, and still have a chance
to win on occasion.
Among the cards I stopped to take a closer look at Orcish
Farmer and the pig in the artwork, maybe because I grew
14