Spinning Wheel

Three mana buys a rock that taps for any color, and that is the whole job: a fixer for decks reaching outside their base colors, priced to sit unobtrusively on an early turn. The second ability is where the design gets honest about its own ambitions. Five mana plus the tap to hold down a single attacker is a price so steep that no one builds around it; a two-mana enchantment would tap creatures on command and never blink at the cost. That mode is not a control plan. It is a late-game pressure valve, something for the rock to do once its fixing has become redundant and the mana is sitting idle. This is entry-level fixing in the durable lineage of common-rarity mana rocks with a bolted-on second mode, cards that smooth a color-hungry curve, make the cut on rate alone, and whose rider gets clicked roughly never. Where it earns a personality is the flavor conceit: a piece of furniture that spins gold and stalls the room, a fairy-tale object rendered as a slow, literal-minded artifact. The spinning wheel that turns straw into gold becomes a wheel that turns colorless into color; the curse that puts a kingdom to sleep becomes a five-mana tap that sends one creature to bed.