Mar 29 - May 17, 2025
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 when The Brood merged rift energy with the soul of a golfer who drowned in Beacon Hill's corrupted creek, this phantom gained power from every disc lost in its murky domain. It now eternally guards the swampified course sections.
Composed of sentient brackish water that reforms after hits. Projects quicksand illusions and emits methane bubbles that temporarily dim glow discs. Vulnerable to sustained light exposure from multiple simultaneous glow disc impacts.
Corrupts water hazards into grasping traps that steal discs and obscure visibility. Forces players to risk disc loss or take longer routes during matches.
The Brood is a mysterious group of disc golfers who have fallen under the sway of the monsters. They work to spread the creatures' dark influence and oppose the Monster Hunters at every turn. Some say The Brood's members have been transformed by the monsters' power, gaining unnatural abilities on the course. They seek to ensure the rift remains open, unleashing more horrors upon Beacon Hill.
Little is known about the figure known as Enigma, The Shrouded One. They are always seen wearing a hooded cloak and an expressionless mask. Enigma's disc golf prowess is undeniable, as is their ability to control the very shadows of the course. Some whisper that Enigma is not entirely human, or perhaps never was.
In Week 8 (Monster Mayhem), the player improved their position with tag number changing from 16 to 5. (Week 8 of 8)
<origin_story>
Born when The Brood yeeted a cursed glow disc into Beacon Hill’s swamp – basically that one puddle behind hole 7 that’s 40% Gatorade and 70% existential dread. Absorbed the essence of every Karen who ever argued about OB lines, this sentient algae colony now haunts the fairway like a soggy Voldemort. Yes, we’re doing aquatic horror puns now. The theme is assimilating me. Send help.
</origin_story>
Cheeky cliffhanger: Will next week’s tag be a Glyph… or just another swamp juice smoothie?
In the primordial ooze where Dreadmire Phantom first bubbled into consciousness, Josh Wadley tripped over a tree root and face-planted into Beacon Hill’s signature “swamp” (read: puddle behind the porta-potty). His PDGA#64953 glowed ominously – coincidence or cursed prophecy? The sentient algae crooned “At last, a bearer who understands mud as a lifestyle!” Now bonded via Gatorade-stained khakis, they’ll spend eternity debating OB lines. Truly, the ancients put the ‘sigh’ in SIGIL.
But can this man who once threw a Berg into a birdbath truly wield the Phantom… or will hole 8’s sand trap devour his soul?