December 5, 2025
12.5.25
Our first-ever Decks & Drafts meetup launched at Gather 22 on December 5th, and the night set the perfect tone for the community we’re building. We gathered on the veranda, ordered drinks, and settled in for a relaxed, commander-style Magic: The Gathering session. Most players brought their own decks, and our newest player (brand new to MTG) borrowed one from the group as we walked through rules and gameplay together.
The evening’s commanders were Aragorn, King of Gondor, Aminatou, Veil Piercer, Clavileno, First of the Blessed, and Satya, Aetherflux Genius. Although we didn’t play long enough to declare an official winner, Aragorn, King of Gondor, was firmly in the lead as we wrapped up the match to transition into our creative portion of the night.
To close the evening, we drew a random card from a pre-selected deck and launched into our writing prompt:
“Write a backstory for someone based on your card.”
Participants could use any format (haiku, flash fiction, a single sentence, miniature play, etc.). The goal was simple: let the card spark imagination. Everyone wrote, shared, and reflected, and the results captured the spirit of blending gameplay with storytelling.
All collected writings and reflections from the night can be viewed below.
“There used to be two
Of us, riders of Rohan
Our folk flesh rotting” - Haiku, Cymelle Edwards
“Trudging through this swamp, I have lost hope and purpose, gazing into the spires in the distance. The muck comes up to my knees as I search for another rotten fish that will prolong my illness, and yet, my survival. At least the blue flames along the swamp provide warmth. I will find a way out of this swamp, and a way back to the cursed wretch that flung me here through that accursed portal. So close was I to touching immortality. That meddling warlock should have never been trusted. Revolution is never easy, but with that dark immortality, I could've saved the kingdom. He thinks his loyalty will be rewarded, but this world will only plunge deeper into desolation without me wielding that power.” - Flash Fiction, Vaughn Knutson
“SOON. WITHER.
In a house made of fire, on an ocean of autumn, leaves holding hands, buckets of tears won't bring this furnace of fury down, the stacks of greed and their whores of lies, their seeds of sin in full bloom, branches twisted aknot, those pockets aplenty with mouths agape, caterpillar chewings through the hearts of all, placating make believe agonies, rooting out our very souls.
Winds of change can hurricane from butterfly flappings, a breezy whispers of the dead, today and tomorrow cannot be forever, infinite reflections of a burning minds from the drowning and buried, the echoes of the world will shake the conflagrated pillars soon.
Soon.
Soon.
The season of suffering will slip, the withering winter will smother its own house, rot its legs, its lore of ruin will Crack and spill.
Tomorrow's today running in desperation sets its aim on the glory of human beauty. In the end in the end in the end.” - Poetry, Martin
