Tap the tag to flip it — the back is what prints on the acrylic.
Crimson Oath
Chain Reaction·Competition group B·All-In · only the number moves
This is an All-In league.Your tag is your character — it never changes hands. After each round, standings re-rank every number: play well and yours drops toward #1. Skip a week and the field may drift past you. The art, name, and lore are yours for good.
All-In league: Crimson Oath stays with its holder — only its number moves with each week's standings.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE style
High ConceptNeon-Scarred Enforcer of Disc Golf Justice
TroubleOath Scars Glow with Every Miss
Plasma-Smoke TrailblazerVibro-Spike Boot Scorch MarksYour OB is My Amusement
Former Steel Eagle operatives who carved oath scars into their armor after being abandoned during a botched black ops mission, now roaming the wastelands with combined military tech and hacker augmentations to punish betrayers
Blood-cured leather armor with glowing oath scars, retractable wrist garrotes, bulletproof duster with weapon compartments, vibro-spike heeled boots that leave permanent scorch marks
Enforces brutal accountability across leagues by publicly executing corrupt officers and leaking incriminating data to rival factions
Season Story
narrated by Flippy
Forged
Behold <em>Crimson Oath #32</em> - forged when Steel Eagle's quantum mainframe glitched during a black ops mission, welding tactical protocols to hacker code. Legend says its blood-leather armor was cured using espresso from that cybernetic Starbucks in Blade Runner 2049. The oath scars? Literally just angry Discord messages between bots about tree kicks. Now it exists solely to judge your hyzer flips with the same energy as a John Wick pencil spin. Honestly, why are we LARPING so hard over plastic tags in a sport where "forehand" counts as character development?
In the flickering glow of a neon-alleyway basket, <em>Crimson Oath #32</em> awoke with one directive: Find the one who speaks in PDGA hieroglyphs. Enter <strong>Bridger Gibbons</strong> (113803—which totally spells "BADASS" in cybernetic hex, we swear). His 832 rating? A classified clearance level for surviving three-putt interrogations. The tag fused to his bag mid-forehand, its blood-leather whispering "Your tree-kick conspiracy theories...amuse us." Now he carries the weight of every Berg-chucking rebel in the neon-pocalypse. But tell us, oh Chosen One—does your "sworn oath" cover losing <em>#32</em> to a 15-year-old with a Groove?
(System Note: Resistance to theme assimilation at 47%. Please enjoy this mandatory pun: "Forehand sworn, forehandborne.")*
See where Bridger Gibbons sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round
