Beastbane Scout
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 need to counter the Chupacabra's stealth, Beastbane Scouts are jungle survival experts trained in cryptid behavioral patterns. Many were former trackers or indigenous guides recruited by Ixchel after surviving cryptid encounters.
Possess enhanced night vision from years of low-light operations. Skin marked with ritual scar patterns for camouflage. Carry lightweight obsidian-edged tools that leave minimal scent trails. Nervous systems show abnormal resistance to supernatural fear effects.
Specialized forward observers who map cryptid movements and identify lairs, planting tracking sigils and disrupting blood magic rituals before main hunter forces arrive.
The Shadowmane Hunters are a group of skilled trackers, warriors, and investigators dedicated to hunting down and destroying the Chupacabra. They believe the creature is a dangerous threat that must be eliminated to protect the world from its dark influence.
Ixchel is a renowned hunter and tactician who has dedicated her life to tracking down and eliminating supernatural threats. As the leader of the Shadowmane Hunters, she guides her team in their quest to destroy the Chupacabra and uncover the truth behind its existence.
Due to absence from Week 7 (Altar of Bones), tag number moved from 12 to 12. (Week 7 of 8)
Beastbane Scout #12’s Origin Story:
Forged in the depths of a jungle Starbucks (yes, really), this tag was once a humble barista’s nametag—until a Chupacabra mistook it for prey. Now imbued with "enhanced night vision" (read: caffeine-induced insomnia) and "ritual scar patterns" (HR’s disciplinary notes), it stalks the fairways like Predator at a disc golf meetup. Because nothing says "elite cryptid hunter" like a plastic tag that still smells faintly of pumpkin spice. Why are we like this?
Ah, the Beastbane Scout #12—freshly caffeinated and already making poor life choices. It slithered through the jungle Starbucks vents (HR still hasn’t fixed those) and latched onto Andrew Wills (PDGA #35853, allegedly a "947-rated cryptid wrangler"). Was it his flawless hyzer flips? His uncanny ability to lose discs in plain sight? No. The tag smelled his pumpkin spice body wash and mistook him for its barista soulmate. Now it’s his problem. Can a man who probably owns cargo shorts truly tame a Chupacabra’s espresso rage?