elcome to the Boilerworks! This is where we Izzet pull the plugs from our cerebrovalves to let the ideas blast out. You know what they say about the Izzet –
“Izzet brains and Izzet boilers: contents under pressure.”
I am Trivaz, and I am going to be your one-time-only Taste The Magic tour guide. Matt has asked me to choose one facet of Izzet culture and really dig in. I am happy to do it. Everybody knows that we Izzet love to show off what we know. When the Firemind is squeezed into your head, it sure feels good to let off some steam. Hey, that seems appropriate - the Firemind will be a fine topic for discussion. So that's what we're going to do today - open the valve and let the fizzing Firemind flavor come firing - hey, you know what's kind of funny? The two cards referenced above have a nifty little relationship. The flavor text for Cerebral Vortex was actually written for Izzet Boilerworks, but the two-color guild lands ended up having flavor text cut or put on other cards. It's cool that this dandy piece of flavor text written for a room full of thermo-aetheric mana vats fits equally well on a dude caught in a cerebro-aetheric time blip. Seems crazy, but check out the valves in his neck – he's hooked in to the Boilerworks anyway! Really, it's not too hard to fathom, now that I think about it. I mean, the basic fundamental calculations for the two are both based on the Nivian Prime Postulates – Ha! Cerbral Vortex- that's funny. As I was considering the first Nivian Prime, my tertiary processing lobe registered the play on words. In case anyone was curious, my secondary lobes were processing what my eyes were seeing, a couple of sweet paintings, actually.
Jon Foster is an Izzet of painter - creative, yet passionate. Look at those bold strokes and atypical color choices.
|'The blazekite is a simple concept, really—just a vehicular application of dragscoop ionics and electropropulsion magnetronics.'—Juzba, Izzet tinker|
And this one I like because it depicts some of my favorite lab companions - the Dragonauts. Let me tell you, these guys are nuts. They'll let you shoot them with just about anything, and they're the first ones to volunteer to try out new inventions or experimental potions. They were pretty much the only guys out there who would try out Juzba's
blazekite contraption. Juzba is mostly thought of as a dragonbutt-kisser with his “little dragon” machines. I mean, dragscoop ionics is so level 1. It might as well be Basic Pyromatics
or Universe Theory 1 - which, by the way, is such a yawner that the teachers usually just let the weirds gurgle through the lectures. Weirds are pretty cool. Much higher level stuff than electropropulsion junk tinkering. They're the Big N's pet project. Ha! “Pet” project. You know what they say about weirds, “Diametrically opposing energies in self-sealed plasmodermic bubbles make great pets!” Hey, wait - I said that! Sometimes is gets confusing when you are running on three to five concurrently processing brain masses. Lobe four was getting ahead of the rest of us, thinking about the creation of the weirds - when Niv-Mizzet trashed the Katazar-Razblat Elemental Symposium. The fire elementalists were bickering with the water elementalists over whose media was the most flexible.
The earth elementalists and electro-elementalists joined in the fray. Unimpressed and bored by it all, Niv-Mizzet took each opposing element and combined them into semi-sentient walking paradox “pets.” Then he ordered them to burn, drown, smash, and electrocute all the bickering mages. It was a dark day for the Katazar-Razblat, but a bright one for the rest of Izzetkind. The weirds would become the ultimate lab-lackeys, lab-rats, lab-pets and lab-mates to the wizards sharp enough to put oil and water together and make them dance. My buddy Myznar
likens them to Izzet wizards themselves - who are combined opposing energies of superintellect and unbridled emotion. Sure, he's my pal, but I tend to think Myznar has run too many experiments through his own head. I mean, to suggest that we Izzet do not have complete control of our superintellect is cra- that reminds me, we were going to discuss the Firemind! Where was I?
We're going to drill down to the nitty-gritty with regard to this extrasensory connection to the dragon's omniscience. It's important that you understand the dragon - for he is what all Izzet aim to emulate. To understand him (as if that is possible without melting the brain)is to understand the rest of us. First, let's recap some of the things you may have already learned here from your regular host (mentally limited as he may be). I could just spout the information from memory - as the Firemind confers audiographic, aetherographic, gastronomographic, tactilographic, cinemagraphic, olfactographic, and photographic memory. But instead, I will bring in another Izzet cohort to do the work for me. I am a little bored of this right now, so I will let Quyzl do the recap while I recalibrate my taste buds to enjoy roughage as if it were chocolate. Take it away Quyz. Oh, before I cut you loose with him, let's have a little pronunciation pow-wow. He gets really irritated when people mispronounce his name, hey! That's a good idea. I am going to get to chowing on some broccoli and let TTM's own pronunciation toady do this work.
Greetings once again, humans. I have been waiting anxiously for this day ever since Matt gave me this new job. Why, you ask? Well only because the Izzet are mad with crazy words that twist the tongue and exhaust the alphabet. Let's start first with our cohost's name:
Quyzl – KWEE•z l It's like “weasel,” but with a k at the beginning. It's the same as the “quy” at the end of “Soliloquy.” Once you know it, that little mess of strange letters becomes quite easy to say.
Schizmotivate – skiz•MO•ti•vate
Gelectrode – je•LEK•trode It's pretty much “electrode” with a “j” sound at the beginning. This one, like Schizmotivate, becomes much easier if you just know which syllable to accent. It works on this one too:
Petrahydrox – PET•ra•HY•droks
Gigadrowse – GIG•a•drowz “Gig,” as in “Our band is playin' a gig down at the Rumpus Room,” not “We're dancin' a jig down at the Rumpus Room.”
Vacuumelt – VAK•yoo•melt Just like it looks- smash “vacuum” and “melt” together.
Dragonauts – DRA•g n•ots
Tibor – TEE•bor
Lumia – Loo•mee•ah
Transreliquat – tranz•REL•i•kwat This is a favorite of mine. “Trans” means change or transfer, “reliq” is derived from relic, and “quat?” Who knows, but it sounds really cool.
That was fun. Now let's turn it back over to the brainiacs.
My name is Quyzl, I am a chronarch. Well, I am studying to be one - but my clockwork spies have overheard my mentors talking about my great potential - so I pretty much am a chronarch.
|From the looks of his hat, he'd make a good lab partner for Juzba too.|
What that means is that I have power over time itself in the same way you have power over, say, which way you turn out of your driveway. You can decide to go left or right or straight into your neighbor's yard, or back into your garage, except that I can also choose to drive up into the sky or down through the earth's crust. I can choose to let time continue as-is, rewind it, or skip from moment to moment like a great temporal sack race - which is what we're going to do right now. To make the jump through time, all you have to do is click on the time-spell sigil below. It is the thing that initiates the disintegration of the fabric of time around us. For those of you who have seen the “Back to the Future” movies - it is like the “flux capacitor.” It's what makes time travel possible. On a side note - these movies are a joke, their handling of the rippling effects of tie travel are so pedestrian. But, I would say that Emmett Brown does have the sort of reckless curiosity and obsessive nature that would make a decent Izzet chronarch. (Most likely he'd end up as a test subject, but so would just about everybody from your planet.) So anyway, to begin our time-hop through Firemind talk of the past, click on the sigil when ready: