Pictured here are my commanders for my decks. Annnnd, I’m building a Jhoira one now too…
First up is the flip walkers. My pet project on the tail end of last year was making a deck around each one. They’re all less than 15 dollars to build (Save some with the flip walker prices, hence the proxies) and are fairly decent. They’re meant to be played together and each has special ways to screw another color, almost every non-walker card featuring the commander in it that’s on theme, and are super fun when you have five players together to play them.
Nissa, Vastwood Seer: “The Forests Are Alive!”
Jace, Vyrn’s Prodigy: “It’s a Draw!”
Liliana, Heretical Healer: “So, I hear you like zombies…”
Kytheon, Hero of Akros: “*Insert White Weenies or Indestructible pun here, I’ve got nothing”
Chandra, Fire of Kaladesh: “Disco Inferno”
Pictured front and center is my main commander deck, lead by the one and only Tariel, Reckoner of Souls. The deck is dubbed “Vengeful Descent” (Lots of Jank and goodstuff)
Nekusar, the Mind Razer is Group Slug (Jelava is just an alternative commander) leading “Death ad Card Draw”
Not pictured is Ayli, Eternal Pilgrim (Is mainly a friend’s deck I made them and they have it right now) is sacrifice, reanimation and life gain effects with “The Gift of Life.”
Finally, my personal Jank pet project, Akiri, Line Slinger and Bruse Tarl. Torn with Myr Tribal. It’s hilarious and I love it. It’s been dubbed, “Akiri, Queen of the Myr”!
Now, if you have any questions or want deck lists, hit me up! I love Commander/EDH and love to talk about it! Thanks, sorry for the long post!
What do you think about the Patchface? Who is he? What happened to him exactly? Does he have a major role in the rest of the story?
Thanks for the question!
Well, for starters, the fact that Melisandre, a prophet who takes pains to appear more a powerful and omniscient sorcerer, visibly treats him as a legitimate horror…
Melisandre’s face darkened. “That creature is dangerous. Many a time I have glimpsed him in my flames. Sometimes there are skulls about him, and his lips are red with blood.”
… should speak volumes of what I think about Patchface.
Let’s be fair to Melisandre here: while she does frequently err in her reading the flames, she’s never straight-up had an incorrect vision. And, even then, she does predict some things on-the-ball like with Jon’s assassination so her words towards Patchface definitely give me the chills.
Who I do think he is, though? Well, I don’t give into any particular theories about his identity. I don’t think it matters, to be honest, as much as the skin-crawling effect of being exposed to a metaphysical monster. but I do think he’s the Drowned God’s true prophet, for one. I’m sorry, Aeron, but as much as you believe yourself the one, Patchface’s is your demon’s god’s true prophet.
I think, after falling out of the Windproud, he drowned and met up with the Drowned God underneath the waves.
The boy washed up on the third day. Maester Cressen had come down with the rest, to help put names to the dead. When they found the fool he was naked, his skin white and wrinkled and powdered with wet sand. Cressen had thought him another corpse, but when Jommy grabbed his ankles to drag him off to the burial wagon, the boy coughed water and sat up. To his dying day, Jommy had sworn that Patchface’s flesh was clammy cold.
Now where have I seen that before?
He pried apart the boy’s cold lips with his fingers and gave Emmond the kiss of life, and again, and again, until the sea came gushing from his mouth. The boy began to cough and spit, and his eyes blinked open, full of fear.
Another one returned. It was a sign of the Drowned God’s favor, men said. Every other priest lost a man from time to time, even Tarle the Thrice-Drowned, who had once been thought so holy that he was picked to crown a king. But never Aeron Greyjoy. He was the Damphair, who had seen the god’s own watery halls and returned to tell of it. “Rise,” he told the sputtering boy as he slapped him on his naked back. “You have drowned and been returned to us. What is dead can never die.”
“But rises.” The boy coughed violently, bringing up more water. “Rises again.” Every word was bought with pain, but that was the way of the world; a man must fight to live. “Rises again.” Emmond staggered to his feet. “Harder. And stronger."
Now, you can say that it’s just the typical reaction to being drowned, and indeed Aeron’s cases are the more mundane explanations of CPR’s effects on drowned men, but…
No one ever explained those two days the fool had been lost in the sea. The fisherfolk liked to say a mermaid had taught him to breathe water in return for his seed. Patchface himself had said nothing.
How does one explain those two days? I think Patchface held the Drowned God’s company for those two days, being appraised, seeing visions and getting an eyeful of the metaphysical rather than just a peek behind the curtain. Then, the Drowned God brought Patchface back to life and sent him back to shore to relay his prophecies for some unfathomable reason (maybe to level the metaphysical playing field with its own champion against R’hllorism and the Old Gods?)
The effect took its toll on Patchface though. I think of the Drowned God as C’thulhu and, along with many of Lovecraft’s protagonists, when Patchface gazed at C’thulhu under the sea and realized how insignificant he was, his mind broke. Being in contact with otherworldly beings isn’t a gift, it’s an existential horror, realizing that there are no gods, only eldritch demons all around you. They’re always there, waiting to break your mortal mind down because they are greater than your feeble rationalizations of them.
And… a part of my heart breaks for Patchface. That quote above claims that Patchface said nothing about his time under the sea, but…
Patchface rang his bells. "It is always summer under the sea,” he intoned. “The merwives wear nennymoans in their hair and weave gowns of silver seaweed. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh.”
“Under the sea, you fall up,” he declared. “I know, I know, oh, oh, oh.” Giggling, the fool rolled off, bounded to his feet, and did a little dance.
“Here we eat fish,” the fool declared happily, waving a cod about like a scepter. “Under the sea, the fish eat us. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."
Oh god, he knows. Underneath the man who predicted the Battle of Blackwater, the Red Wedding and the upcoming Others’ invasion is a broken man who does know the damage done to him and has tried to tell people what happened to him to no avail.
As for his future importance? I think he’ll keep up his role as ignored prophet with new prophecies for us readers to digest (and be chilled by) and in-universe characters to ignore because of his ignoble demeanor.
I generally don’t buy into the ‘Patchface eats Shireen’ theories because… well, Stannis’ character arc takes precedence on that score (I personally think he burns Shireen at Winterfell in the face of apocalypse in ADoS because Stannis’ arc of trying to prove himself Azor Ahai has been building up to this sacrifice and Martin is a heartwrenching writer who loves to rip our hearts out). The man with his eerily accurate prophecies is frightening enough.
I do think, with almost ironclad certainty, Melisandre’s visions provide me a glimpse of Patchface’s future:
Then the wind rose and the white mist came sweeping in, impossibly cold, and one by one the fires went out. Afterward only the skulls remained. Death, thought Melisandre. The skulls are death.
And who do the Others enslave, Tormund?
“You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth… air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest… you do not know, you cannot know… can your sword cut cold?”
Patchface will die and rise, harder and stronger… but slave to a different horror.