A pirate ship caught a galleon unprepared and overhauled it. After they loaded the loot into their ship, and left the galleon burning and sinking, the cleverest pirate, who didn't really want to be a pirate at all, identified the best item in the loot, a magic lamp. As soon as the captain started wiping the blood and soot off, a genie appeared, and offered three wishes.
The pirates immediately fell to squabbling, because all knew the captain would probably keep the lamp for herself, but also, all of them were suspicious and distrustful, and didn't trust the genie to grant the wishes honestly without twisting them. Eventually, the second-cleverest pirate, who was jealous of the way the other pirates respected the cleverest pirate, suggested a compromise.
"Captain," she said, "you should wish that whatever the cleverest pirate gets from her wishes, you get twice over. And then give the lamp to the cleverest pirate, who is the one among who may be able to make wishes the genie can't twist."
It's simple, she reasoned. If it goes wrong, the captain will blame the cleverest pirate, who she was a bit jealous of anyway. But likely the genie will twist the wishes anyway, the captain will be humiliated or killed, and she can take over, let the cleverest pirate go in a show of generosity, and still be rid of her forever.
The captain nodded sagely, pretending that she understood, and had been planning something similar all along. "Genie," she cried, "for my first wish, whatever this pirate gets from her wishes, give to me twice over." Then, forgoing the other wishes, she handed the lamp to the cleverest pirate, and looked at her sternly.
The cleverest pirate immediately wished, "I wish all the survivors on the galleon were healed and put safe on land before it sinks."
The captain roared with anger. "That doesn't help you at all."
The cleverest pirate shrugged. No-one had said she had to. But now the captain put a hand to her cutlass threateningly, and said, "Now wish for something for yourself."
"Very well," the cleverest pirate said, shaking just a little. "I wish that I always have enough to eat, and always have enough fresh water to drink."
The captain roared with anger again. Now she had twice as much as she needed to eat, and drink, but she was the captain, she had that already.
She slowly drew her cutlass, and swung it up to rest against the cleverest pirate's throat. "Now," she said, "Forget what you want. Make a wish that actually makes a difference to me."
"Very well," whispered the cleverest pirate. She sucked in her courage, and careful to keep her throat still on the cutlass, announced in a small, clear voice, "I wish to donate a kidney to medicine."
OK, this isn't so much "by its very nature", as "for balance issues", but that's one reason cards can unequivocally need to be legendary.
I'm not sure how strong this is; it's obviously really oppressive if you can get the double lock of two of these alternating, but I'm not sure if that's too difficult to arrange (or too annoying even without that).
Cute story. Cute card, and an excellent response to the challenge. Seems too easy to break, though. A single Puppeteer makes this a soft lock. Oddly, I'd almost suggest phasing, or something like it.... except then you might be able to sneak two on the table, alternating when they're in play....
: Creatures target player control don't untap during their controller's next untap step. Greater Stonehorn doesn't untap during your next untap step.
See Challenge # 111.
This was inspired by an old story:
A pirate ship caught a galleon unprepared and overhauled it. After they loaded the loot into their ship, and left the galleon burning and sinking, the cleverest pirate, who didn't really want to be a pirate at all, identified the best item in the loot, a magic lamp. As soon as the captain started wiping the blood and soot off, a genie appeared, and offered three wishes.
The pirates immediately fell to squabbling, because all knew the captain would probably keep the lamp for herself, but also, all of them were suspicious and distrustful, and didn't trust the genie to grant the wishes honestly without twisting them. Eventually, the second-cleverest pirate, who was jealous of the way the other pirates respected the cleverest pirate, suggested a compromise.
"Captain," she said, "you should wish that whatever the cleverest pirate gets from her wishes, you get twice over. And then give the lamp to the cleverest pirate, who is the one among who may be able to make wishes the genie can't twist."
It's simple, she reasoned. If it goes wrong, the captain will blame the cleverest pirate, who she was a bit jealous of anyway. But likely the genie will twist the wishes anyway, the captain will be humiliated or killed, and she can take over, let the cleverest pirate go in a show of generosity, and still be rid of her forever.
The captain nodded sagely, pretending that she understood, and had been planning something similar all along. "Genie," she cried, "for my first wish, whatever this pirate gets from her wishes, give to me twice over." Then, forgoing the other wishes, she handed the lamp to the cleverest pirate, and looked at her sternly.
The cleverest pirate immediately wished, "I wish all the survivors on the galleon were healed and put safe on land before it sinks."
The captain roared with anger. "That doesn't help you at all."
The cleverest pirate shrugged. No-one had said she had to. But now the captain put a hand to her cutlass threateningly, and said, "Now wish for something for yourself."
"Very well," the cleverest pirate said, shaking just a little. "I wish that I always have enough to eat, and always have enough fresh water to drink."
The captain roared with anger again. Now she had twice as much as she needed to eat, and drink, but she was the captain, she had that already.
She slowly drew her cutlass, and swung it up to rest against the cleverest pirate's throat. "Now," she said, "Forget what you want. Make a wish that actually makes a difference to me."
"Very well," whispered the cleverest pirate. She sucked in her courage, and careful to keep her throat still on the cutlass, announced in a small, clear voice, "I wish to donate a kidney to medicine."
OK, this isn't so much "by its very nature", as "for balance issues", but that's one reason cards can unequivocally need to be legendary.
I'm not sure how strong this is; it's obviously really oppressive if you can get the double lock of two of these alternating, but I'm not sure if that's too difficult to arrange (or too annoying even without that).
Cute story. Cute card, and an excellent response to the challenge. Seems too easy to break, though. A single Puppeteer makes this a soft lock. Oddly, I'd almost suggest phasing, or something like it.... except then you might be able to sneak two on the table, alternating when they're in play....