There’s an age-old argument in realm of successfully propagated intellectual property. That is, when you have an IP reach a certain level of success and cultural fandom, does the IP’s owners retain the sole authority to make major changes to that property? Ignoring situations where the IP has entered the public domain and therefore is open to all manner of interpretation, most would point out that from every authoritative and legal standpoint…yes, of course they do. But the issue is more a philosophical case of art, viewership, and the symbiotic relationship between them.

If someone owns the rights, the prevailing logic says, they can do what they like with its creative direction. You see this play out all the time with film adaptations of movies where, say, a book’s author may not universally love how it was modified to fit on screen but they generally no longer have the rights to influence it. Similarly, you can find some contentious stories in the annals of filmmaking lore when one writer/director/studio loses the rights to their own film series and the new owners opt to make substantial alterations to the formula. It may not always be the most couth move, but they are fully within their practical rights to do so.

The counterargument essentially boils down to an in issue of the IP’s cultural impact. If something reaches a particular touchstone status, doesn’t that audience earn a certain modicum of say if substantial changes were to be made to that work? Particularly if they come after the original work is long established? This can rear its head during restorations or re-cuts of films. A pair of famous examples of this can be found around the turn of the 21st century in George Lucas’s anniversary editions of Star Wars original trilogy where he edited in new CGI work, inserted new scenes, and infamously, altered the cantina scene between bounty hunters Greedo and Han Solo. Steven Spielberg’s 20th anniversary edition of E.T. faced similar criticism with a couple scenes during the climactic chase between the kids and law enforcement where the agents’ guns were digitally swapped out with walkie-talkies. This entire ordeal and the arguments around it were surmised well, surprisingly, via a 2002 episode of South Park, where they explored whether ‘rights’ of fans come into play when it comes to cherished IPs.

For what it’s worth, Lucas never relented on his authority to make such modifications, whereas Spielberg seemed to take such concerns to heart and reversed the changes on all future format releases back to the original theatrical cut – demonstrating both possible outcomes of the argument.

Of course, claiming fan ownership of a property comes with its own pitfalls, ranging from toxic and gatekeeping fandom communications (e.g. see also, ironically, Star Wars) to unrealistic demands on the development of new or existing content. So it’s not exactly a clear cut delineation as to where the proverbial line exists, and it can vary significantly from one situation to the next.

Wizards of the Coast’s handling of Magic’s extensive game lore is another such example of this, albeit on a much smaller scale. No one would argue it has the same level of cachet or reach as a Hollywood studio, but from a proportional perspective within the game’s community its lore and worldbuilding have an outsized influence on anyone who looks at the cards for more than just mechanical worth.

Again, here, no one would argue that WotC doesn’t have the right to completely do as they wish with their worlds and stories – and they do. Nor is some level of negative reaction to it all that significant; pretty much anything Wizards does will have its zealous adherents and ardent dissenters. That’s been the case since the beginning. There also hasn’t been a lengthy and extensive list of issues so contentious that Wizards actually relents, does a non-apology correction and moves on. When it does happen it’s usually been because on some level the feedback was so negative as to be unavoidable, or it actually impacted sales of the set somehow. All of these events, where an established piece of lore or setting was significantly changed, they exist as one of two categories.

The first are those which are tonally or structurally divergent enough from what people expected them to be as to actually cause audience disengagement (and sales drops). The shift of the original Zendikar’s adventure theme to BFZ’s sole focus on the Eldrazi is one such example, as was Shadows Over Innistrad showcasing more eldritch horror than gothic horror – both of which were ‘fixed’ in the next revisit.

The other, and far more trivial category, involves when specific aspects of the world are changed in a way that just outwardly seem arbitrary. Changes that don’t actually impact gameplay or the storyline but nevertheless stand out as being poorly received all the same. The best (or worst) example of this in recent memory has to be the attempt to “rebrand” Slivers in M14 with an an entirely new look. It went over very, very poorly – so much that they did reverse direction. More often, though, these are simply changes that the game’s designers have decided to make and audiences simply have to tolerate even if they still may disagree with. See, for instance, what they’re now calling Cephalids in New Capenna after their long absence.

Or venture as far back as Neon Dynasty, where we were treated to a return of many of Kamigawa’s iconic races as we remembered them – with the exception of the now legless Orochi snake-folk from the original block. A hand-waiving explanation flavor reason was created for the change, but the real reason for altering this group while leaving the other factions intact had more to do with wanting to break from some of the Orochi’s original mechanics and the drumbeat of creating some uniformity with snake tribal – and snakes having legs was just too much of an outlier. So they had to go.

I would argue, though, that the original Orochi design, while veering into a territory that admittedly drew some blending between snake-folk and general lizard-folk, was at least memorable and creative, their deviations gave them distinctive, lasting character. Their two primary abilities within the original block were also interesting from a monogreen deckbuilding perspective, though it’s entirely likely that their primary one – combat damage based soft locks – are now considered out of color pie.

Their other ability, specifically found within the snake shaman contingent, were all about gaining additional mana for the turn. And that is just as useful as it’s ever been – hence this week’s pick.

Today we have: Mark of Sakiko

Name: Mark of Sakiko

Edition: Betrayers of Kamigawa

Rarity: Uncommon

Focus: Mana Generation

Highlights: While there were a number of snake shamans in the original Kamigawa block that dealt with adding mana or playing lands in some way, there were a handful specifically that not only gave you free mana but let you sit on that mana for the remainder of your turn. This led to a bunch of ways you would tactically maneuver your actions throughout the turn and float mana between phases depending on your needs. It created a sense of fluid and dynamic turn choices, which lent well to the flavor being presented. Mark of Sakiko is an Aura-based way to utilize that ability, free of needing to rely on one specific creature – or snake tribal more generally.

For a highly economical two mana, Mark of Sakiko can be attached to any creature of yours on the battlefield, though given its intent, it’s ideal for those which are particularly large and / or have some kind of evasion. Having it on a creature that is going to survive a few rounds at a minimum is also highly encouraged, if only to take advantage of the Mark’s mana-generating potential.

Although it looks wordy at first glance, Mark of Sakiko is a very straightforward card. Essentially it says that whenever the enchanted creature deals combat damage to an opponent, you gain that much Green mana. Moreover, this mana specifically can be banked until the end of your turn, allowing you to pivot that mana into casting cards or using abilities in your postcombat main phase rather than being relegated to instant speed spells and effects.

The more damage you can deal, the more mana you can leverage into postcombat board building. While it is limited to combat-based triggers, even just a couple turns of connecting for a modest 4 damage can allow you to bring out another card or use another effect. This can be incredibly useful during midgame, for instance, as a means of ramping up your battlefield potential, or say, after a board wipe to more quickly rebuild your forces. Outside of some corner case antics it’s unlikely to wholly shift the state of the game so its chances of being an immediate removal target should be on the lower end of the spectrum. However, that doesn’t mean it’s weak by any means. The Mark of Sakiko is quite deceptive in how effective it can be when correctly utilized – which your opponents hopefully won’t realize until after you’ve been able to capitalize on it a few times.

One could even say it gives your turns a little extra legroom. The Orochi aren’t using them anymore, so why shouldn’t you instead?

Keep an eye out for us to be regularly featuring other more accessible-but-worth-it Commander cards going forward. In the meantime, we’ll keep the light on for you.

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