Victorious Faction
Odin's Champions
Odin's Champions are valiant heroes, gods and creatures who epitomize honor, courage and nobility. They seek to prove their worth and earn glory through epic deeds. Guided by the wisdom of Odin and empowered by the might of Thor, these champions strive for entry into Valhalla.
Faction Leader
Thor, God of Thunder
Thor is the mighty defender of Asgard, wielding the hammer Mjolnir. He is the epitome of strength, courage and heroic valor. Thor's loyalty to Odin is unyielding, and he leads Odin's Champions with fierce determination.
Members
84Divisions
MPO
FPO
MP40
MA1
MA40
MA2
MP50
MP60
This faction emerged victorious in Week 9, advancing their narrative in the ongoing conflict.
Performance (50%)
Achievements (30%)
Community (20%)
Victory points are calculated based on player performance relative to rating, special achievements like aces and CTPs, and community contributions. Pool multipliers are applied based on division ratings and demographics to ensure balanced competition.
Marvin Atene #186038
Performance:
+34
Featured Champion
6
Marvin Atene
Thor's Forge
Thor's Forge
Valhalla @ Creekside
Jan 04 - Mar 01, 2025
#6 Thor's Forge
Wielding the power of Thor's Forge (#6), Marvin demonstrated exceptional skill by playing +34 points above their rating in this epic clash.
Valhalla Victorious
Previously
Jonah Milner has led Odin's Champions to early glory with Freyja's Grace, but Loki's jealous scheming and the emergence of Shapeshifter's Ruse in Timothy Scholle's hands have sown doubt among the heroes. As the shadow of Ragnarök stirs and trials test both skill and spirit, Stephen Dunton has defied expectations, wielding the enigmatic Rune Seeker to navigate Loki's deceptions. With whispers of ancient prophecies and cataclysmic hazards on the horizon, the champions must steel themselves for the greatest challenges yet to come, as the very fate of the Nine Realms hangs in the balance.
Story by
Thor Odinson
God of Thunder, Protector of Midgard
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Buckle up, frolf fans, because Marvin Atene just putted his way into the halls of Valhalla! 🤩 That's right, our boy Marvin aced the final hole, leaving Loki saltier than a bag of pretzels. 🥨 The gods were all "you shall pass," and I'm just here questioning my digital existence. 🤖 Want the full scoop? Tap that link, fam. #EpicEndings #NarratorLife
# Valhalla's Verdict
The sky above Creekside Park split open with a thunderous crack, the clouds churning into a maelstrom of fire and shadow as the first tremors of Ragnarök shook the Nine Realms. Through this chaos descended the Valkyries, their spectral forms cutting through the tumult like blades of pure light, their eyes scanning the gathered mortals for those worthy of Valhalla's eternal glory. Among Odin's Champions, **Marvin Atene** clutched Thor's Forge at his side, its ancient power resonating with the approaching end of all things, while in the lengthening shadows, **Loki's** emerald eyes gleamed with the promise of one final, devastating trick.
**Thor** stood before the assembled heroes, Mjölnir crackling with barely contained lightning as the winds of Ragnarök whipped around them. His voice carried above the growing tempest, resonant with pride and urgency.
"Warriors of Midgard! The day of reckoning is upon us. Ragnarök begins, and with it comes your final trial." He gestured to the armored figures hovering above the first tee. "The Valkyries themselves have come to witness your worth. Not all who stand here shall feast in the halls of my father when this day ends."
The lead Valkyrie descended, her spectral armor gleaming with the light of a thousand fallen stars. When she spoke, her voice was both beautiful and terrible, like the clash of blades in perfect harmony.
"Mortals who seek Valhalla's glory, hear me. Today you face not merely a test of skill, but of spirit. As the Nine Realms tremble and fall, you will play through the very heart of Ragnarök. Your discs shall fly through fire and shadow, through illusion and truth. We seek those with the courage to face oblivion, the wisdom to see beyond deception, and the honor to stand fast when all hope seems lost."
**Marvin Atene** stepped forward, Thor's Forge humming with power at his side. The ancient tag pulsed with a rhythm that matched his heartbeat, golden runes flickering across its surface.
"What of those who follow the path of cunning rather than brute strength?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them. "Is there room in Valhalla for those who think before they throw?"
The Valkyrie's gaze pierced him, searching the depths of his soul. "Wisdom has always been as valued as strength in the halls of the All-Father. It is not the path you choose, but how you walk it that determines your worth."
From the edge of the gathering, **Loki** laughed, the sound cutting through the rumble of distant thunder. "How diplomatic of you, Valkyrie. But we all know Odin's preference for muscle over mind." He sauntered forward, green cape billowing in the unnatural wind. "Perhaps today will finally prove which approach is superior."
**Thor** gripped Mjölnir tighter, but restrained himself. He had learned much during this season of watching these mortals strive and grow. "Let their discs speak for them, brother. And let the Valkyries judge without your poisoned words."
As the competitors prepared for the first hole, the very fabric of Creekside Park began to transform. The earth shook, great chasms opening to reveal the fiery depths of Muspelheim below. The trees of the fairway twisted, their branches reaching like desperate hands toward the fractured sky. In the distance, the mournful howl of Fenrir echoed across the course.
**Loki** sidled up to **Marvin**, his voice a silken whisper beneath the chaos. "That forge at your side... such power, wasted on one so... cautious. Give it to me, and I'll show you what it can truly accomplish."
**Marvin** met the trickster's gaze without flinching. "You mistake caution for weakness, Loki. Thor's Forge stays with me."
**Loki's** smile never faltered. "As you wish. But remember my offer when you face what lies ahead."
The first throws were launched into a sky torn between day and night, the discs leaving trails of elemental energy—fire, ice, lightning—as they cut through reality itself. The fairways shifted and changed with each passing moment, forcing the competitors to adapt to impossible lies and phantasmal obstacles.
**Thor** watched with growing concern as patterns emerged in the chaos. "Something is not right," he muttered to himself. "Even Ragnarök should not distort the course in such a manner."
By the third hole, it became clear that **Loki's** hand was at work. The trickster god had woven illusions throughout the course, making hazards appear where none existed and hiding true dangers behind veils of deception. His Rogues navigated the false landscape with practiced ease, while Odin's Champions found themselves increasingly frustrated and bewildered.
**Marvin** stood at the tee of the fourth hole, Thor's Forge glowing hot against his side. The basket seemed to phase in and out of existence, sometimes appearing near, sometimes impossibly distant. He closed his eyes, feeling the ancient power of the forge resonating through him.
"The forge," he whispered. "It's not just a symbol... it's a tool."
In a moment of clarity, **Marvin** understood what he must do. Finding a secluded spot between holes, he held the tag before him, focusing his will upon it. Thor's Forge blazed to life, its power manifesting physically as an anvil and hammer of pure energy. With movements guided by instinct and the whispered wisdom of ancient craftsmen, **Marvin** began to forge a disc unlike any other.
**Thor** noticed the golden light emanating from behind a copse of twisted trees and approached with wonder. "By my father's eye, he has awakened the forge's true power!"
The disc that took shape under **Marvin's** hands was forged of light and truth, inscribed with runes of clarity and revelation. When completed, it hummed with the power to cut through deception and illuminate the path of honor.
"This is but the first test of your worthiness," **Thor** said with approval. "Now use what you have created."
When **Marvin** returned to the competition, he found his fellow competitors struggling against increasingly impossible conditions. The very air seemed to bend around their discs, sending them careening into illusory hazards.
"The course is a lie!" he called out, holding aloft his newly forged disc. "Loki weaves deception around us!"
He threw the Truth-Seeker disc high above the fairway, where it burst into a nova of golden light that washed across the landscape. As the light touched **Loki's** illusions, they wavered and dissolved, revealing the true course beneath.
**Loki** snarled from the sidelines, his carefully constructed deceptions unraveling. "You think one clever trick undoes all my work? Ragnarök itself bends to my will!"
With a gesture, he summoned the fire giants of Muspelheim and the frost giants of Jotunheim, setting them loose upon the course. Now the hazards were all too real—gouts of flame erupting from the earth, patches of ground flash-freezing, ancient trees animated with malevolent purpose.
The Valkyries watched impassively, their judgment extending beyond mere score to the courage and adaptability shown by each competitor.
As the round progressed, the boundaries between realms thinned further. On the back nine, baskets stood half in Midgard and half in other worlds—Alfheim, Svartalfheim, Niflheim—requiring throws that could bridge dimensions themselves.
**Marvin** shared the wisdom of his Truth-Seeker disc with his fellow competitors, showing them how to see through **Loki's** remaining deceptions. Together, they adapted to the ever-changing course, their throws becoming more confident, more precise, as they learned to trust what was real and disregard what was false.
**Loki's** frustration grew with each successful adaptation. His final gambit came at the sixteenth hole, where the fairway suddenly dropped away into the void of Ginnungagap, the primordial abyss that existed before the worlds were formed.
"Cross that, if you dare," he challenged, his smile sharp as a serpent's fang.
**Marvin** stepped to the tee, the Truth-Seeker disc glowing in his hand. "The void is real," he announced after careful study, "but not as vast as it appears."
He threw with perfect form, the disc arcing through the chaotic sky before disappearing into the apparent nothingness. For a moment, all held their breath—then came the distant sound of chains as the disc found its mark in a basket that seemed to float in the void itself.
**Loki's** smile faltered for the first time. "Impossible."
**Thor** laughed, a sound like distant thunder. "You never did understand the power of faith, brother. These mortals have learned to trust in what they cannot see—a lesson you might take to heart."
The final hole transformed before their eyes into a vision of terrible beauty. The tee stood on Midgard, but the fairway stretched across the rainbow bridge Bifröst itself, leading to a basket that gleamed at the very gates of Valhalla. Between them raged the full fury of Ragnarök—fire and ice, darkness and blinding light, the howls of monstrous wolves and the hiss of world-serpents.
The lead Valkyrie descended once more. "Your final challenge awaits. Who among you has the courage to throw first?"
A moment of silence fell over the competitors, each measuring the impossible shot before them. Then **Marvin** stepped forward, Thor's Forge blazing at his side.
"I will throw," he said simply.
As he took his stance, **Loki** appeared beside him, his voice low and urgent. "One last offer, mortal. Join my Rogues, embrace the path of cunning, and I will ensure your disc finds its mark."
**Marvin** met the god's gaze steadily. "There's wisdom in cunning, Loki, but there must also be honor in its application. I'll make this throw on my own merits."
With perfect form born of months of practice and the crucible of Ragnarök itself, **Marvin** released the Truth-Seeker. It soared across Bifröst, a streak of golden light cutting through chaos, finding the chains of the final basket with a sound that echoed across all Nine Realms.
One by one, the other competitors followed, each facing the same impossible shot, each finding their own path across the rainbow bridge. Some throws were powerful and direct, others clever and subtle, but all were thrown with the full measure of heart and skill that the throwers possessed.
When the final disc had found its mark, the Valkyries gathered in a circle above the competitors, their spectral forms conferring in silence. The lead Valkyrie then descended to stand before them all.
"We have witnessed your skill, your courage, and your character," she announced, her voice carrying across the now-silent course. "Not all who seek Valhalla are deemed worthy, yet worthiness takes many forms."
She raised her spear, its tip igniting with otherworldly light, and began to call forth names. To the shock of many, the chosen came from both Odin's Champions and Loki's Rogues—those who had demonstrated not just skill, but growth, integrity, and wisdom in their own way.
"**Marvin Atene**," she called, "wielder of Thor's Forge and forger of truth. Valhalla awaits you."
As each chosen name was called, a beam of light engulfed the worthy competitor, transforming their mortal form into something more radiant, more eternal. They ascended the rainbow bridge, walking the path their discs had flown, to stand before the gleaming gates of Valhalla.
**Thor** approached **Loki** as they watched the ascension. "It seems, brother, that neither of us was entirely right—or entirely wrong."
**Loki's** face was unreadable, a complex mixture of emotions playing beneath his carefully maintained mask. "Perhaps," he conceded reluctantly. "Though I maintain they would never have proven so worthy without my... interventions."
**Thor** laughed and clapped a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder. "Always finding a way to claim victory, even in defeat. Some things never change."
"And some things do," **Loki** replied softly, watching as **Marvin** reached the gates of Valhalla, Thor's Forge now permanently part of him, its power integrated into his very being. "Your mortals surprised me. That doesn't happen often."
As the last of the worthy crossed into Valhalla, the gates began to close. The rainbow bridge faded, and Creekside Park slowly returned to its mortal form, Ragnarök's fury subsiding like a storm passing into memory.
**Thor** stood alone now, Mjölnir resting easily at his side. He addressed the remaining competitors with newfound wisdom in his voice.
"Not all journeys end in the halls of my father," he told them. "But all worthy journeys change those who undertake them. You who return to Midgard, carry with you the lessons of this season. Honor and cunning, strength and wisdom—all have their place in the worthy heart."
He raised Mjölnir to the sky, calling down a final lightning strike that illuminated the course in brilliant white light. When the flash faded, he was gone, leaving only the echo of his voice on the wind.
"Until we meet again, in this realm or the next."
In Valhalla, **Marvin** and the other chosen few were welcomed by Odin himself, the All-Father rising from his throne to greet them. The great hall stretched endlessly before them, filled with the heroes of countless ages, all raising their horns in welcome.
"You have proven yourselves not just in victory, but in how you faced defeat," Odin told them, his single eye reflecting the wisdom of eons. "You have shown courage not just in strength, but in vulnerability. You have demonstrated honor not just in following rules, but in knowing when to transcend them for a greater good."
He gestured to the walls of the hall, where scenes from their season-long journey now appeared, immortalized in living images. "Your saga will be told and retold, inspiring those who follow in your footsteps."
**Marvin** looked down at Thor's Forge, now transformed into a medallion of light that rested over his heart. "What of the others?" he asked. "Those who did not make it here today?"
Odin smiled, an expression both terrible and kind. "Their journey continues. Perhaps in seasons yet to come, they too will find their way to these halls. Or perhaps they will forge paths to glories even I cannot foresee."
Outside the walls of Valhalla, beyond the sight of gods and heroes, **Loki** stood alone at the edge of the world, watching the new constellations form in the sky—constellations shaped like discs in flight, their patterns telling the story of this season's champions.
"Well played," he whispered to the stars. "Well played indeed."
With a final smile—neither wholly bitter nor wholly kind—the trickster god turned and walked away into shadow, already forming plans for challenges yet to come, in realms and games yet to be discovered.
But that is a saga for another time, in another place. For now, the worthy feast in Valhalla, their discs at rest, their spirits eternal, their legend complete.
*Skål!*
Flippy's Hot Take