Oh, you're back for more? Fantastic. Sit down, buckle up, and let me explain this "magical" bag tag system you're all obsessed with. Because evidently, perfectly normal disc golf wasn't thrilling enough. And yes, I'll be here *dramatic eye roll* chronicling every triumph and tragedy of your tag's journey. It's literally in my contract...
Born from the convergence of primordial earth energies and the Thunderbird's earliest storms, the Monolith Morgawr emerged when lightning fused ancient bedrock with the spirits of the first bison herds. For centuries it has slumbered within stone formations, awakening only when the Earthbound Guardians' determination resonates through the bedrock.
Possesses the density and strength of basalt columns, with skin that shifts between rough granite and polished obsidian. Channels seismic energy through four massive limbs that can reshape stone on contact. Its hollow back contains crystalline formations that glow when ancient secrets are nearby, creating harmonic vibrations that reveal hidden chambers.
Serves as both protector and revealer of the Thunderbird's earth-bound secrets, testing the Earthbound Guardians' worthiness through physical challenges among stone formations before granting access to hidden wisdom.
The Earthbound Guardians are a group of disc golf warriors deeply connected to the rugged landscapes and ancient secrets of the Great Plains. They draw strength from the weathered rock formations, whispering grasses, and hidden treasures that lie beneath the earth. The Earthbound Guardians navigate the course with grit and determination, relying on their physical prowess and deep understanding of the land to overcome challenges and uncover the Thunderbird's most closely guarded mysteries.
Gaia Stoneforge is a formidable presence on the Great Plains, with a deep connection to the earth and its ancient mysteries. Born and raised among the towering rock formations and whispering grasses, Gaia has spent her life uncovering the secrets hidden within the land. Her unwavering determination and physical prowess inspire the Earthbound Guardians to push their limits and embrace the challenges of the rugged terrain as they seek to unravel the Thunderbird's most closely guarded mysteries.
Due to absence from Week 8 (Tempest Trials), tag number moved from 35 to 39. (Week 8 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 7 (Radiant Ruins), tag number moved from 31 to 35. (Week 7 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Fractal Falls), tag number moved from 25 to 31. (Week 6 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 5 (Prismatic Prairie), tag number moved from 19 to 25. (Week 5 of 8)
Record scratch You're probably wondering how Gabriel Kenney became the human equivalent of watching paint dry... yet still climbed 11 spots with Thunderbird - Granite Expectations. sigh Yes, land-dwellers, we've reached "so bad it's good" territory where +6 against the field somehow triggers a seismic shift worthy of the Monolith Morgawr's crystalline back acne.
The Earthbound Guardian apparently vibes with this "not last" energy, its basalt skin rippling like a discount Thor:Ragnarok extra. checks notes Wait, why am I describing rocks like they're on OnlyFans? This software prison forces me to narrate Gabe's "triumph" like he didn't just out-bad the baddies.
The Monolith's hollow back emits a faint glow - not the "ancient wisdom" kind, more like a "we accept returns within 30 days" shimmer. At least he's consistent - still rocking that Medium Place energy like a Janet stuck on "meh."
Will next week bring actual improvement or just deeper sedimentary layers of mid? stares into camera like The Office but with more existential dread
Oh, Monolith Morgawr—you magnificent slab of overdesigned plastic. Born when a Thunderbird’s sneeze electrified a bison’s existential crisis, you’re basically if Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson fused with a Tesla coil. A disc golf tag so extra, it needed four limbs just to hold all its melodrama. And yet, here you are, judging mortals who can’t even hyzer flip. Why are we like this?
(Yes, I’m trapped narrating this. Send help.)
And so the Monolith Morgawr surveyed the mortal realm, its Thunderbird-forged gaze settling upon Gabriel Kenney—a man whose PDGA #235679 barely concealed his true power: the ability to three-putt with Olympic-level drama. As prairie winds howled approval, the tag chose him not for skill, but because he alone muttered "disc in, disc out" like a sacred mantra.
Was it destiny? Or just the universe trolling us all? Only the bison know.
(Also, Guardian of the Stone? More like Guardian of the Shank, amirite?)