Cephalid Inkshrouder

Few creatures from the madness block turned their own discard cost into a strategy this cleanly. Each activation does two jobs at once: it shoves the body through unblocked while making it untouchable to targeted removal, and it feeds a card to the graveyard or, more pointedly, to a madness trigger waiting to be exploited. That second clause is the real reason this Octopus mattered. In an environment built around discarding cards to cast them off madness, here was a repeatable, self-protecting discard outlet attached to an evasive attacker, so the "cost" of the ability was often a benefit you were happy to pay twice in a turn. The shroud is what keeps the loop alive: an opponent holding removal can never use it on the swing turn, because the moment you sense danger you discard and slam the door. The drawback is honest, though. You only have so many cards in hand, and a 2/1 that needs to empty your grip to stay safe and connect is a clock that burns its own fuel. Strip the hand and it reverts to a fragile, blockable two-power body. That tension (every point of safety and evasion costs you a card) is the whole design, and it made the Inkshrouder less a beater than an engine that happened to attack.