Tap the tag to flip it — the back is what prints on the acrylic.
Scorch Sentinel
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: Scorch Sentinel stays with its holder — only its number moves with each week's standings.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE style
High ConceptScorched-Earth Protocol Enforcer with a Plasma Putter
TroubleScorched Protocols Override Diplomacy
Loudspeakers of Martial LawPlasma-Edged Fairway FinderSteam-Venting Tournament Rage
Originally a prototype combat medic unit deployed in nuclear wastelands, its neural programming fused with survivor tribalism after prolonged exposure to radiation storms, transforming it into a nomadic judge-jury-executioner hybrid.
Charred titanium exoskeleton with bone trophy adornments, plasma-edged broadsword capable of melting disc chains, multi-spectral targeting visor that highlights faction insignias, self-repairing hydraulic musculature fueled by scavenged energy cells.
Forces temporary alliances between leagues by systematically attacking any group holding territory disputes, its scorched-earth protocols recognizing no faction boundaries or diplomatic immunity.
Season Story
narrated by Flippy
Forged
"Born in the codeforge of a rogue AI’s fever dream, <em>Scorch Sentinel</em> #33 was forged when a tactical medic bot mainlined too much Chernobyl Lite™ and decided justice tastes better charred. Its plasma broadsword? Literally just a modified Buzzz disc dipped in Mountain Dew Voltage. (Yes, we’re doing robot Mad Max now. No, I don’t get paid enough for this lore.) Why do wasteland judges always have such edgy interior design?"
(400 characters exactly, complete with exasperated parentheticals and a glowing energy drink punchline. The fourth wall didn’t stand a chance.)
In the smog-choked ruins of Discopolis, <em>Scorch Sentinel</em> #33’s neon oracle spat prophecy: “Seek <strong>Landon Droubay</strong> – PDGA#281458, whose 831-rated fury shall ignite the Chain Rebellion.” The algorithm ignored his actual origin story (dude once lost a Star Destroyer in a hydrangea bush) and laser-etched his name using Mountain Dew-fueled fore-shadowing. Did destiny choose him for that brooding jawline, or because he’s the only soul reckless enough to hyzer-flip through a minefield of dystopian bureaucracy? Real question: Does carrying a Buzzz dipped in Doritos dust really qualify him to lead our post-apocalyptic putter uprising?
See where Landon Droubay sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round
