Bruse Tarl, Roving Rancher
The straight-faced comedy here is an anthem written for a tribe of essentially nobody: "Oxen you control have double strike" is lord text for a body count that barely exists in the game. So the card manufactures its own subjects. Every enter and attack peels a card into exile; if it's a land, you get a 2/2 white Ox, and the anthem it just invoked means that token will hit for four the moment it can actually swing. Anything other than a land converts into an impulse cast good through your next turn, which keeps the trigger productive when the token line whiffs. The two outcomes cover for each other: a miss on Oxen becomes tempo, a hit becomes a growing board of double-strikers that pay off on the following attack step. Because both branches fire on entry and again on every attack, the card asks for one thing above all, which is to keep swinging: aggression is the engine, not a byproduct of it. Rather than functioning as a lord you build a fragile subtheme around, it reads its own library for fuel and pays out either way, a repeating value spell stapled to a 4/3 that happens to reward turning it sideways. The result is a boisterous, self-contained package that quietly assembles a herd punching well above the modest bodies it prints.
