Tireless Farmhand

The card’s runes flare, and the manifestation of an Azmarean woman materializes at the field’s edge, sickle already in hand. No power core tethers it; the manifestation sustains itself.

It works night and day without flagging. Its hands move through the grain rows at a pace that would exhaust ordinary laborers within hours, yet it barely touches the grain rations during breaks.

Occasionally it stops mid-work, studying something in the soil. A glint of metal, a forgotten relic half-buried in the furrow. It sets these finds aside for your inspection.

By day’s end, the harvest bins overflow.