Domri Rade smirked as the buildings fell beneath his forces. It was starting off to be a good day, four blocks reclaimed for nature and it wasn't even noon. The rubblebelt was expanding rapidly as the Gruul scored victory after victory. The thought filled him with pride and hope.

He was a short, wiry boy, but packed with lean muscle despite his appearance. He could fight with the best of them. In fact, he intended to do just that once he caught up with the others. He was shirtless, as always, (who needed a shirt, anyway?), his body adorned with battle scars and magical Gruul runes on his sun-kissed skin. A thin leather harness ran from his fur britches to his animal skull shoulder pauldrons, helping hold the outfit together. He ran a hand through his red-streaked black mohawk and looked down at his bone axe, the only weapon he used besides his wits and his affinity with animals.

He was a savage, and proud of it.

'Civilized' people were liars, back-stabbers, money-hungry bastards and oppressors. At least Domri and his clan were honest. The world city had to fall for Ravnica to be truly saved, and if anyone got in the way... Well, that was too bad.

Of course, most citizens of Ravnica didn't agree with his philosophy, but the survival of the wilds was more important than anyone's opinion.

With that thought in mind, the youth began making his way toward the action.


Gideon Jura surveyed the disaster with a weary sigh. Gruul attacks had always been destructive, but under Domri Rade's leadership they'd been reinvigorated, taking up to fourteen city blocks a day. Domri himself looked to be barely older than fourteen, though from what Gideon knew of him he most likely had no idea of his own age, and had records with the authorities going back over twelve years. Even as a small child he was trouble. It was of no fault of his own, of course, orphaned and abandoned to the streets at such a young age he'd grown up seeing authorities as cruel and corrupt, (often rightly so), and now he recognized no authority at all. A total anarchist leading an army of savage warriors, and he wasn't even old enough to shave.

The muscular Planeswalker shook his head.

Then he stopped dead still, almost unbelieving of what he saw before him.

Domri Rade, leader of the Gruul Clans, Planeswalker, beastmaster, anarchist and wanted criminal... Was hurrying alone down the rubble-strewn streets. No animal friends to fight for him.

This might be the only chance to bring the kid in without casualties anyone was going to get.


The man was heavy and loud, despite his attempts at stealth. Probably a muscle-headed Boros brute trying to earn a hefty reward by bringing in the infamous Domri Rade.

He grinned, not looking back.

A chase with some Boros slowpoke sounded exciting.

He suddenly darted to the left, clambering through the remains of a ruined Orzhov cathedral with the silent grace of a cat. He could hear the man following, stumbling on fallen brickwork and statuary, noisy as a drunken cyclops.

He turned to laugh at the tool, and suddenly realized that he was in a bit more trouble than he thought.

He was a former Boros, he had gotten that right. But he was no ordinary mindless brute.

The man chasing him was a Planeswalker.

Gideon Jura.

He knew the name well. A giant of a man, Gideon had come to Ravnica seemingly for the sole reason of making life more difficult for decent folks just trying to survive. And his body was covered in some sort of magical armor no weapon could penetrate.

He was a walking juggernaut.

There wasn't much Domri could do about someone like that.

Oh krokt.

He never should have looked back. His foot caught on the outstretched hand of a fallen idol and threw him off balance. He didn't fall, he was too agile for that, but it cost him precious seconds.

Double Krokt!


Gideon reached out and caught a slender shoulder.

He might as well have angered a wild nodorog.

Domri turned on him in an instant, scratching, biting, clawing and kicking like a wild animal desperate to break free from a hunter's trap.

Though his magic would deflect most weapons, the teeth and fingernails of a teenage boy were not among them. Domri bit down on his right hand, hard enough to leave a perfect bloody impression of his teeth, but Gideon held on tight. He'd had worse pain in his life than a few bites and scratches. Domri tried to bring his bone axe into play, but it bounced off Gideon's armor with ease.

Domri's handsome, dirty face was twisted by rage, and his black eyes burned into Gideon like flaming arrows.

"Oi! Lemme go you wanker!" He growled, but his youthful voice wasn't particularly frightening, even if it was filled with rage.

"No." Gideon said simply.

The boy let loose a string of invectives about Gideon's mother, a mangy goat and a biologically impossible lineage that would have made most hardened soldiers blush.

Gideon just rolled his eyes and walked on, passing through the shell of a burnt out Orzhav tax collector's office.

And then it happened.

With a surprisingly powerful kick for such a slender boy, Domri's foot met Gideon's crotch.

It worked, just not in the way Domri wanted. Gideon fell to his knees, but his knees pinned Domri's own leg beneath the massive Planeswalker.

Gideon moaned in agony, and looked at Domri in way that indicated he was in deep krokt.


Gideon pushed past his pain and took Domri in both massive hands before he could work himself free and escape.

"That hurt, boy."

Domri's eyes went wide. So he wasn't completely fearless after all. The boy began to struggle harder, trying to escape whatever revenge Gideon was planning.

Gideon didn't have a clue how to punish the boy, he didn't want to punch him, he'd end up doing serious harm to the kid. And then he noted a stone bench up against the far wall.

He smiled and took a seat, taking Domri with him. Gideon pulled the struggling boy over his knees, unstrapped the slender harness stretched across his thin chest and with one swift motion yanked his fur and leather britches down around his ankles. As Domri wore no shirt or underclothes, this left him completely naked. He shrieked like a wounded animal as his body was totally bared to his captor. Momentarily stunned by his new predicament, Domri stopped struggling for an instant, then resumed his attempts to break free with even more cursing, kicking and scratching.

Gideon looked at the angry, hissing boy with a touch of amusement. Domri was scrawny, and his ass was small, but muscular, with little if any fat. He was also surprisingly tanned, likely he spent some of his free time skinny-dipping and sun-bathing, though he didn't look much cleaner for it. He had an abundance of scars of various sizes marring his otherwise smooth skin, the life of a street urchin and Gruul had left its mark on him. Gideon was somewhat worried that his physical strength would be too much for the skinny boy, possibly hurting him. So he decided to hold back on his blows and trust in the fact that Domri was far more resilient than he looked.

"Lemme go you bloody pervert!" Domri's voice was angry, but fear was definitely creeping into his voice. "Don' touch me!"

Gideon just smirked and brought a hand down on Domri's unprotected ass. He had big hands, and he could cover the boy's whole backside with one stroke. Domri howled as the hand struck flesh. Again he brought his hand down, and again.

"KROKT!" Domri swore loudly.

"Don't curse." Gideon said calmly, still smacking the boy.

"Nobody tells me what... OW!"

The sound of struggling, cursing and a large hand hitting a bare ass echoed loudly through the shell of the old building.

"Stop! I'll make you pay-"

"If you don't shut up, your friends will come in to see what you're yelling about." Gideon punctuated that remark with another hard slap to Domri's swiftly reddening ass. "What would the Gruul think if they saw their fearless leader stark naked getting spanked like a child?"

Domri's face reddened even more than his backside. This was humiliating enough, but if the others saw him like this... His reputation would be ruined.

The boy grit his teeth and lowered his head, trying to remain silent as the big Planeswalker continued his assault. Tears tried to form in his eyes, but he bitterly fought them back. Nobody got the better of Domri Rade, nobody.

But krokt, it hurt.

It wasn't the pain though, not really, it was the humiliation, the utter helplessness. He'd spent most of his life on the streets, and he'd taken plenty of beatings, but never something as humiliating as a spanking. Now he was lying naked in this big brute's lap, getting a painful lesson in corporal punishment.

The hand came up and down, up and down, and he was sure his poor ass was on fire. The ceaseless sound of his pain and humiliation echoed endlessly in his ears.

It was too much.

Domri let out a long, low howl, a sound better suited to the wolves that raised him than the boy himself. Tears broke past his barriers and streaked down his face. His tough facade cracked as he started to sob.

Gideon stayed his hand, looking down at the struggling troublemaker's bright red ass. Was it too much? Was it enough? Domri was still a kid, but he'd also caused a fortune in damages in his misguided quest to protect Ravnica's natural lands. His cause was just, but his methods were both criminal and dangerous. Domri reminded Gideon of himself at that age, full of righteous passion... And he, too, had found himself on the wrong side of an unjust legal system. Gideon had spent most of his youth in a prison on his homeworld of Theros.

Prison is no place for a child.

The younger Planeswalker was breathing hard, worn out from the struggle with Gideon and all the havoc he'd wreaked earlier. And there was a possibility that someone might just enter this burnt out shell and stumble across the poor boy lying there naked. Gideon wanted to embarrass him, but not to display Domri's naked body to the general public. He eased up the hand holding the boy down.

Domri was immediately on his feet, both hands rubbing his sore backside, forgetting or uncaring of the fact that his surprisingly well-sized junk was on full display to his fellow Planeswalker. He whimpered like a puppy, and Gideon almost regretted spanking him.


"Pull your pants up boy, or are you going to let everyone in Ravnica see your war club?"

Domri swiftly pulled up his pants, failing to mask a hiss as the fabric touched his poor backside.

"Y-You..."He sniffled slightly, unable to think of a suitable reply or insult as he hastily reattached his harness and pauldrons.

"Don't make me do this again." Gideon said softly, "You're a good kid, you're heart's in the right place, but you're going about this the wrong way."

"What other way is there?" Domri's usually loud voice was a whisper, "No one else is doing anything to save Ravnica, to save the wild. Even the Selesnya want everything all orderly gardens and tamed animals. It's wrong."

Gideon sighed, but he didn't have an answer. The Guilds were all so corrupt, and most people were either too greedy or desperate to care about the natural world.

Domri shrugged his skinny shoulders and picked up his bone axe where Gideon had dropped it. He wiped his eyes, and even smudged a little coal from the burnt building onto his face to hide the tear tracks.

Then he was gone.

Gideon stood and walked out onto the rubble filled streets. The Gruul were gone, probably attacking somewhere nearby, and Domri was nowhere in sight.


Domri Rade sat around the campfire as his troops boasted of their victories.

He'd used some of his personal supply of healing salve to assuage the embarrassing bruises, but though the evidence was gone he'd remember this humiliation for a long time.

He was lucky, really. Gideon could have thrown him to the Azorius or the Boros, and Ilharg only knew what those corrupt scum would have done to him.

There was also the fact that no one had any idea what had happened to him. It certainly wasn't something that he wanted bards to sing songs about.

He wearily stood and headed for his tent, hoping to sleep some of the shame away.


The End.


Poor Domri. I love that boy. And I hate MTG for what they did to him. I used to spend a lot of my income on MTG cards, now I can't even look at them in stores and can barely stand to keep my old collection. There's no joy in MTG for me anymore. It's not fun, just painful.

I had this idea of Gideon spanking Domri a few months before War of the Spark came out and ruined MTG for me forever. The idea just popped into my head again as I was trying to take a nap, so I hurried and wrote it down. In this AU, the War of the Spark never happened, and Domri is still alive and well. If a little sore at the moment.

I can't forgive MTG for killing Domri, but I can try to write stories where he's still alive and doing what he loves. His death actually triggered my depression, I've had a lot of bad things happen since Hurricane Michael, and this finally broke the camel's back. I was already depressed, but that worsened it to the point of severe depression. I'm doing better now, but it still hurts.

As much as I love Domri, he really needs a spanking after all the trouble he's caused. I think he's a good kid, but he doesn't see any other choice but to destroy a society he sees as hopelessly corrupt.

I don't know Domri Rade's age, but I'd guess around 16-17. He's small because he was malnourished as a child, living in the streets and forest scrounging (or stealing), food isn't exactly the best way for a growing boy to have a healthy diet. In the MTG Arena game, the actor for Domri uses a Cockney accent, probably because of the origin of the punk movement in the UK. In one quote he notes that he was raised by wolves, or maybe just big dogs. Whatever the case, Domri is far more at home with animals than people.

Ravnica is a world so overgrown with 'civilization' that the entire planet, including the oceans, have been bricked over, creating a single, giant city. The only true wilds are where the Gruul have been able to fight off 'progress'.

Ilharg, the Raze-Boar is a god revered by the Gruul, a giant boar that seeks to level the city and return the world to its natural state.

There are no easy answers to Ravnica's problems, any more than there are to earth's problems, so I didn't present any options. What Domri does is illegal, but that's the only way he knows. Gideon realizes that as well, as he can't offer any alternatives. Gideon is all about law, but he cares about Justice more. And he's stuck between a rock and a hard place here. He knows Domri is trying to do what's right, but his actions are harmful to the people who live in those areas the Gruul reclaim.


#Domri Rade Deserved Better