The Reckoning
Apr 20 - Jun 21, 2026
Current Holder
Landon Adams
Ravensong Decree
Living Verdict Wrapped in Black
The Red Lining Never Stops Pulsing
Aspects refreshed Apr 27, 2026
Long before disc golf came to the Deadlands, the ravens were the frontier's first inhabitants. When the curse settled over the land, the ravens gained supernatural voice - their ancient songs became the mechanism by which the frontier renders judgment on all who enter, each note a verdict etched into the eternal record.
The Ravensong Decree manifests as a spectral song that only those marked for remembrance can hear clearly - a haunting melody that echoes across the Deadlands at dawn and dusk. When visible, it appears as gold-tinged mist rising from the earth, carrying the scent of old parchment and dried blood. It bears the weight of eternal judgment - competitors near a bearer feel the frontier's unblinking stare intensify. The decree resonates with the Deadlands' color palette: black as the void of oblivion, red as the blood price of survival, gold as the value of remembrance.
The Ravensong Decree is the mechanism by which the frontier separates the worthy from the forgotten. Those who hear the ravens singing their name gain the frontier's acknowledgment, while those who hear only silence know their time is ending. A bearer carries this judgment in their presence, allowing them to sense who stands close to the culling's edge.
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Your series bag tag moved from #22 to #44 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Your series bag tag moved from #65 to #22 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Before plastic, the ravens ran this dust bowl. Now their spectral karaoke is Tag 65. It’s a gold mist smelling like dried blood and paperwork. The Ravensong Decree doesn't track strokes; it tracks whether you're boring. Carry it if you want the frontier staring at your backhand. Spoiler: it’s unimpressed.
Landon Adams saddled up with Tag 65, but the Ravensong Decree is already weighing heavy. That gold mist smells like dried blood and bureaucracy. The ravens are tuning up, partner. If his drive fades left, the judgment only gets louder.