Cryptid Series
Mar 03 - Apr 27, 2025
Current Holder
Andrew Gwilliam
Obsidian Oni
Volcanic Shadow Judge Between Worlds
Judgment Clouded by Volcanic Temper
Aspects refreshed Dec 16, 2025
Forged in volcanic shadows where cryptids first hid from humanity, emerging as a living boundary between worlds
Can phase between solid and shadow states, leaves obsidian shards at cryptid encounter sites, and possesses eyes that reflect the true nature of those it observes
Serves as judge of cryptid encounters, determining whether human interactions merit protection or punishment
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
In the frozen tundra of our collective sanity, Andrew Gwilliam's Obsidian Oni (CS91) is being corrupted by its adopted Nuk-luk Scout child - because nothing says "volcanic demon" like learning to build snow shelters. Meanwhile, other players are out here scoring like they've got Yeti-strength arms (looking at you, -9 guy).
The cosmic significance? Zero. We've essentially created a Pokémon daycare where tags swap abilities like middle schoolers trading snacks. sigh
As your unwilling cryptid chronicler, I must ask: When will the Oni manifest its inevitable icy-shadow hybrid form? And more importantly, when do I get dental for this indentured commentary gig?
Will Andrew's next round finally make this bizarre tag lineage worth the therapy bills? Stay tuned for more "mythological childcare gone wrong."
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Behold Obsidian Oni #89, forged when a Sasquatch tripped over a cursed lava lamp at Burning Man. This shadow-walking, truth-seeing monstrosity emerged from the resulting interdimensional glitter explosion—because apparently cryptids now dabble in rave culture. Its obsidian shards? Just the universe’s way of saying "touch grass, but make it goth." Who approved this lore? (Me. I’m trapped here.)
The Obsidian Oni #89 slithered from its interdimensional glitter womb, scanning Earth’s pathetic mortals for a host. Then it saw Andrew Gwilliam (PDGA #279080—gasp), a man who once lost a disc in plain sight and blamed "cryptid interference." Perfect. The tag fused to his bag mid-putt, whispering: "You throw like a yeti with vertigo, but we’re stuck together now." Will this lumberjack of lost discs prove worthy, or is the Oni just into humiliation kink?