Murders at Karlov Manor has set up a murder mystery on Ravnica. As the story unfolds, we edge ever closer to the truth. But who won’t make the suspect list? Which Ravnican citizens won’t be taken in for questioning? Here’s our picks of the Ravnican natives least likely to commit murder – and why.
10 RAVNICA NATIVES WHO OBVIOUSLY AREN’T THE MURDERER
Long held in the highest of regards by not just the Selesnya Conclave, but plenty of citizens of Ravnica and beyond, the Venerated Loxodon wouldn’t hurt a fly. He spends his days tending to a small herb garden, writing children’s books, and healing the unlucky foot soldiers of the Conclave. If you bring him his favorite mochi, he’ll even bestow some blessings to power you up in battle.
Besides, who ever saw this thing being swung in with in GRN Standard? It was the Knight tokens and that one tenacious Vampire that did all the work, and we both know it.
9. WALL OF MIST
Wall of Mist is a literal wall made entirely of mist. Mist is just water vapor, and if that water vapor was tainted in any way, it wouldn’t be mist anymore; it’d be a cloud of poison, or whatever other deadly substance exists in a liquid state suspended by cold air. Wall of Mist’s only crime is its blink-and-you’ll-miss-it role in one of M. Night. Shyamalan movies, and even then this was pre-unionization, and the pay was abysmal, so we’ll let it off.
Even if Wall of Mist was capable of committing the crime, how do you plan on prosecuting it? You can’t catch it, you can’t confirm whether any patch of mist is the Wall of Mist that you’re looking for, and the victim would have to be so vulnerable to water that they perish upon contact with it. It’s pretty hard to call that Murder, and more just bad luck. There’s probably another M. Night. Shyamalan joke here.
What was once succulent flesh is now a succulent’s creche. Slitherhead is literally just a creeping creeper that has chosen to hang out in some dude’s skull, just for the hell of it. It’s a 1 mana 1/1, and is arguably way more useful as a scavenged murder weapon (blunt force trauma?) than it is capable of murdering anyone. Even though a plant that can move that fast is kinda scary, I’m not sure it has the brain cells to rub together to plan any cold-blooded chicanery.
Mentor of the Meek has been Mentor of the Week for the past thirty-seven weeks, and that’s the current longest-streak at the Boros Academy. He sees himself as a dad to everyone, and takes in every street urchin, orphan, and bookish-kid in a 10-block radius, intent on teaching them the life lessons he didn’t receive from his own deadbeat father.
His dad jokes are terrible, and we all know that the more cringe-inducing the dad jokes, the less capable they are of committing murder. There’s a chance he picks a psychopath to train up and they commit murder, but you’d be hard pressed to charge him as an accessory. He spends his weekends in the Tenth District soup kitchens, has a labrador named Champ, and he turned down a field work promotion because he didn’t want to be associated with some of the more zealous guild members.
You hear a strange shuffling noise, almost like the sound of someone trying to mop a floor covered in jelly. As your eyes focus on the amphibious looking creature on the edge of the light, you recoil slightly at the contrast between its limp tentacled maw and its gnarled, muscular… hands.
Enraptured, you find yourself drawn into its gaze, unsure of your next move. Is this creature a killer, or imitation crab meat?
Roll for Perception.
You search the creature’s eyes for a hint of malice, and find none. In fact, the more you stare, the more you realize that there’s not much going on behind that solitary eye at all.
- Pet the creature [Animal Handling]
- Kick the creature [Strength]
- Keep staring.
Ivy Lane is home to many market traders, and for the most part, their business is legitimate. Now, what you do with what you procure there is an entirely different matter. There have only been a few incidents on Ivy Lane in the past, and they’ve mostly involved illegal herding of Baloths. Those things get out of hand pretty quickly, and so there’s an unwritten rule not to grant permits to these shysters – and to crackdown hard at the first sniff of Baloth droppings.
Murder, though? Not likely. They’re just guilty of negligence.
Centaur Peacemaker is a people-pleaser, through and through. For better (and for worse) she’ll ignore any number of red flags just to be with you. Whether it was a dysfunctional eminence growing up, a string of poor partners, or a lack of self-actualization, there’s no doubt that all she wants to do is make sure nobody dislikes her. If you compliment her on her flower arranging, you’re sure to make her week. The only thing she’ll murder is the deluxe BBQ tray at Niv’s Brisket.
Helena Bonham Harper is one aviculturist who exists in a world where murder is something announced by Couriers, or a plot device at a theater show. She’s a hard working small business owner, happily divorced, and excited to get home after work, where she spends her evenings reading light novels and taking luxuriously long baths. She’s above such petty base acts like murder, and if she ever needs to work something out, has a very good lawyer on retainer. The rest of Keyhole Downs owe her a lot for bringing an air of legitimacy to some of the other seedier stalls.
Greg was always bullied for his size. He shot up to a 4/6 during spirit kindergarten, and was at first quite shy, finding it hard to make friends. Eventually, his size became an advantage, and he delighted in playing with the spirits of deceased children, giving them a steadfast and trustworthy anchoring as they adjusted to being dead. Whether it was failing hard at hide and seek or reaching up to the third floor to play pranks, Greg found a home and a gang to ride with, staying on as a teaching assistant after he graduated.
Disappointingly, a spirit of such proportion makes for fun game to some of Ravnica’s more wretched bullies; especially a spirit that won’t fight back. Greg is incorporeal – sticks and stones literally can’t hurt him, and he’s regularly confused at why Ravnica’s living seem to have it out for him. Just let him get to work, will you? This gentle giant is no threat.
Look, I know how it looks. This Indrik did knock your client off of the balcony. And yes, your client sustained heavy injuries. Okay, yes, your client expired. But it wasn’t murder. It’s manslaughter at best.
You want to have the beast put down?
Be my guest. I’m not going anywhere near it.
I considered writing a list of Ravnican citizens most likely to be murdered, but I got as far as filling it with Aboreal Grazer, Birds of Paradise, Crypt Ghast and Deputy of Detention before realizing most of these are animals or already dead, which kinda jeopardized the whole thing.
What do you think? Who are the most disarming and inoffensive Ravnicans?
Kristen is Card Kingdom’s Head Writer, and member of the Commander Advisory Group. Formerly a competitive Pokémon TCG grinder, she has been playing Magic since Shadows Over Innistrad, which in her opinion, was a great set to start with. When she’s not taking names with Equipment and Aggro strategies in Commander, she loves to play any form of Limited.