

Josh Apple #166879

The Phoenix Series @ Art Dye
Wielding the power of Nebulachill Prism (#4), Josh demonstrated exceptional skill by playing +80 points above their rating in this epic clash.
Deep Freeze
The icy winds of winter have gripped Art Dye as Maxwell 'Frostbite' Flynn and Daniel McIllece investigate the chilling phenomena plaguing the course. Strange sightings of a shimmering ice bird and a frozen warning at the seventh hole point to the haunting prophecies of the long-vanished Elyse and the fabled Ice Phoenix. With the arrival of Clinton Atwater and the legendary Spellthaw Matrix bag tag pulsing with eldritch power, the detectives find themselves drawn into an ancient game that threatens to consume the course entirely. As impossible creatures stir in the shadows and the line between myth and truth blurs, Maxwell and Daniel must confront the terrifying possibility that the Ice Phoenix may soon rise from legend to reshape the very nature of disc golf at Art Dye.



Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Deep Freeze
The wind howled through the skeletal trees, carrying with it an endless swirl of ice crystals that stung Maxwell Flynn's weathered face. He stood at the edge of the snow-crusted fairway, his eyes fixed on the strange symbols etched into the frozen pond before him.
Patterns within patterns, he mused, his breath clouding the air. Like a puzzle left by a trickster god.
"Another one?" Daniel asked, crunching through the snow to join him. The younger man's face was flushed with cold and excitement. "That's the third set of symbols this week."
Maxwell nodded, his gaze never leaving the intricate marks. "And each one more complex than the last. It's like our icy friend is trying to tell us something."
"You think it's a message?"
"More like a warning." Maxwell's voice was grim. "And we're running out of time to decipher it."
As if in answer, a gust of wind whipped across the fairway, carrying with it a sound like the crack of shattering ice. Both men turned to see Josh Apple stumbling towards them, his face ashen beneath his beard.
"You need to see this," he said, thrusting a disc towards Maxwell with shaking hands. "It... it just appeared during my round. Like someone carved it into the plastic."
Maxwell took the disc, his eyes widening as he studied the surface. There, etched into the underside, was a series of intricate runes that pulsed with an eerie blue light.
"The language of the Iceborn," he whispered, his fingers tracing the ancient script. "I've seen fragments before, but never this clear. Never this..."
"Personal?" Josh's voice was hollow. "It feels like it's meant for me, somehow. Like the Phoenix knows I have the Prism."
Daniel frowned. "You think it's connected to the bag tag? To the legend of the Nebulachill?"
Maxwell handed the disc back to Josh, his expression unreadable. "The runes are a warning, alright. And if I'm reading them correctly, they're about the Prism."
He turned to face the frozen pond, the wind whipping at his coat. "Looks like you're a part of this now, kid. Welcome to the deep freeze."
As the words left his mouth, the symbols on the pond flared with blinding intensity. The ice shuddered and cracked, and for a moment, Maxwell swore he could see the outline of immense wings beneath the surface.
The game's changing, he thought as the light faded, leaving only the howl of the wind. And we're all just pawns on the board.
In the distance, atop the highest hill, a figure watched the scene unfold with ice-chip eyes. Elyse Blackwell smiled, her breath frosting the air as she whispered a single word.
"Nemesis."
And the snow began to fall in earnest, blanketing the course in a shroud of white.
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