Combat Calligrapher

A group-hug design with a knife hidden in it. The token engine hands every attacking player a free 2/1 flier, so on its face it reads as a table gift: more bodies, more board, more attacks. The restriction is where the design earns its keep. Those Inklings are barred from ever swinging at your face or your planeswalkers, which makes them useless to their owners as a weapon pointed your way. That does not build a wall; the tokens belong to opponents, and can even block your own attackers. What it builds is a moat. Attacking someone else nets an opponent a growing flock of fliers, all of them structurally unable to threaten your seat, which quietly makes you the least rewarding target at the table. The card weaponizes the multiplayer incentive structure itself: it never forces anyone to attack elsewhere, it just makes attacking elsewhere the more profitable line while your face stays comparatively unappealing. The trigger fires on attacks against any of your opponents, so a busy board can spiral into a rapidly multiplying swarm, and because each token stays with its creator rather than pooling under you, the political fiction of a shared benefit holds up. The clever part is that the deterrent scales with the danger: the more combat the table is doing, the more Inklings exist that refuse to come for you. It rewards a pillow-fort or drain shell through misdirection rather than a stated tax, a harder trick to sell across four players than a flat Ghostly Prison.