Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with what appears to be a large, sturdy box filled with smaller, crinkly packets. They call it 'Magic: The Gathering,' some sort of strategic endeavor involving illustrated rectangles and dragons. While the premise of battling dragons is mildly intriguing—they are, after all, just glorified, scaly pigeons—the true value seems to lie in the packaging. The box itself promises a superior napping location, and the foil wrappers from the thirty 'boosters' have a high probability of creating excellent floor-skittering toys. The cards themselves, with their shiny 'foil' and art, might catch the light pleasingly, but I suspect the actual game is a colossal waste of energy that could be better spent on a sunbeam.
Key Features
- FIGHT DRAGONS WITH DRAGONS—Return to Tarkir for an epic battle between dragons and clans; discover which clan fits your playstyle with distinct three-color gameplay, and add draconic power to your collection
- BEST BOOSTERS FOR PLAYING WITH FRIENDS—Play Boosters are the best way to discover what Magic: The Gathering has to offer; they're perfect for building decks, playing Limited games with friends, and are tons of fun to open
- A DRAGON’S HOARD OF TARKIR TREASURES—Each Play Booster contains 1–4 cards of rarity Rare or higher, including the possibility of a Special Guest Mythic Rare from Magic’s history featuring new Borderless art
- SHINING FOIL IN EVERY PACK—Every booster also includes at least 1 shining Traditional Foil card of any rarity; in 20% of packs you’ll add an additional shiny card to your hoard with a Traditional Foil Land
- MAY CONTAIN ART CARDS—Found only in Play Boosters, some packs contain an Art card showcasing a piece of art from the Tarkir: Dragonstorm set and may even feature a foil signature from the artist
- PLAY BOOSTER BOX CONTENTS—30 Tarkir: Dragonstorm Play Boosters, each containing 14 MTG cards and 1 Token or Art card
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The ceremony began with a sharp tearing sound, the sacrificial offering of the box's plastic shroud. From my observation post atop the velvet armchair, I watched my human and another of its kind—the one who always smells faintly of rain and other, lesser cats—huddle over the offering. They called it "Tarkir," a word that sounded like a cough. They reverently removed thirty smaller packets, the crinkle of the foil echoing in the quiet room like the frantic death throes of a captured beetle. This was clearly a ritual of great importance. I descended from my throne, my paws making no sound on the hardwood floor, and began my infiltration. The first discarded wrapper was my target. I nudged it with my nose. It skittered. I pounced, batting it with a soft paw before unleashing the fury of my back claws. A satisfying shredding sound. My duty done, I moved closer to the table where the humans were laying out the colorful rectangles. They spoke in coded language: "mana," "tapping," "flying." I saw images of powerful, winged beasts, and I will admit, a flicker of professional respect. They were impressive, for lizards. I placed a single, pristine white paw upon a particularly fearsome-looking dragon, claiming it for my own domain. The human gently nudged my paw away. A grave error on its part. My focus shifted. As the humans continued their strange rites, one of them held up a card that glittered. A "foil," he called it. The overhead light caught its surface, and a tiny, shimmering rainbow was cast upon the wall. Then another. And another. Suddenly, the room was filled with ethereal, dancing prey. The humans, lost in their cardboard war, were oblivious to the true magic they had unleashed. These fleeting specters of light were a challenge worthy of my skills. I stalked them, my body low to the ground, my tail twitching. A leap, a twist in mid-air—I was a gray-and-white shadow hunting ephemeral dragons of my own. Hours later, their game concluded. They gathered their precious rectangles, but they foolishly left the grand prize on the floor: the empty box. It was a fortress. A cave. A command center. I stepped inside, the cardboard walls a perfect fit around my magnificent form. It smelled of potential and my human's focused attention. They could keep their fragile paper treasures and their make-believe wars. I had captured the dancing lights, conquered the crinkling wrappers, and now I reigned supreme from my dragon's hoard. They had the cards; I had the Tarkir.
