Enough already. Enough walls, enough parties, enough plotting, enough scheming, enough backroom deals, enough taxes, enough experimentation, enough law. Enough! If the people of Ravnica wouldn’t stand up for themselves then damn them.

Flames of magical bloodlust rippled through her mind and body. Every cell, every fiber, of her being screamed for destruction. Burn it all, rip it down, smash the walls, turn the city to rubble. Level the field. No more elites, no more pawns, no more upper and lower classes. No more classes at all. No more school. Pure anarchy was the only answer.

Once, before she joined the Gruul clans, she’d spoken with a student of Azorian law. “I long for pure anarchy,” she said.

“How can you wish for that? Do you know what that would mean? True lawlessness?”

“I know exactly what it means,” she said, a glint in her eye.

“But,” the student gulped, “nothing would stop anyone from killing you.”

“Wrong.”

“Mhn?”

“I would stop them.” She’d said. A week later she left the city to join the clans. A year after that she was second in command, not that there was any real hierarchy.

“Tear that wall down!” she screamed, her voice magically enhanced. A pair of cyclopean giants roared and brought their tree-sized clubs down. “Don’t stop until everything is dust. Destroy it all!” She sent a fresh wave of pain reducing magic into her clan mates. They fell on the Boros guards in waves. No care for their own safety.

None of the Gruul carried shields. Shields were for hiding behind, for those unable or unwilling to commit to their cause. The Boros said their shields defended the weak. On that point she agreed: weaklings carried shields. A hand holding a shield was a hand that couldn’t carry a weapon.

A line of fresh-faced Boros recruits barred the way to a market street. The Gruul clan leader turned to her pyromancers and pointed to the wall of Boros shields. Shields made of wood. “Burn them. Burn the fools that think wood will protect them!” she laughed. A moment later, the wall of shields became a wall of fire.

Smoke, flames, the screams of the dying, the howls of the Gruul filled the air. Blood ran in the streets. No law, no plans, no order, pure chaos. Anarchy reigned. She smiled.