Victorious Faction
Arcane Seekers
The Arcane Seekers are a faction obsessed with unlocking the secrets of the Golem's creation and harnessing its immense power for their own gain. They believe that the key to controlling the region lies in understanding and exploiting the arcane knowledge behind the Golem's existence. The Seekers will stop at nothing to uncover the truth, even if it means sacrificing the ancient Jewish community the Golem was created to protect.
Faction Leader
Katarina Novak
Katarina Novak is a brilliant but ruthless scholar who has dedicated her life to studying the arcane arts. Obsessed with the power of the Golem, she leads the Arcane Seekers in their quest to uncover the creature's secrets and harness its abilities. Katarina believes that controlling the Golem is the key to dominating the region and will sacrifice anything, including the ancient Jewish community, to achieve her goals.
Members
31Divisions
This faction emerged victorious in Week 2, advancing their narrative in the ongoing conflict.
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.
Malachi Vazquez #162249
Ritual Wraith
Golem Chronicles: Unleashed @ Art Dye
Wielding the power of Ritual Wraith (#1), Malachi demonstrated exceptional skill by playing +51 points above their rating in this epic clash.
Sigil's Secret
Ezra Katz has sensed a disturbance in the arcane energies surrounding the Art Dye disc golf course as an ancient Golem begins to awaken. Katarina Novak has revealed her intentions to harness the Golem's power, using an arcane scoring system to guide players into unknowingly completing a mystical sigil. The ethereal Clayton Strayer, now known to be the Arcane Revenant bound to the Golem's will, has demonstrated impossible shots and a connection to the living memories of the land itself. As the battle lines are drawn between the Arcane Seekers and the Golem Guardians, the true purpose of the Golem's creation and the fate of the ancient community it was meant to protect hangs in the balance. With the first seal broken and whispers of the Golem's stirring echoing through the night, Ezra must rally his fellow Guardians to prevent the Golem's power from falling into the wrong hands.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
The Golem Chronicles: Sigil's Secret
The morning mist had finally cleared from Art Dye, yet something more unsettling remained—a heaviness in the air that seemed to bend light in subtle, disquieting ways. Players gathered for the second tournament of the season, their conversations hushed as they examined their discs. Many reported strange occurrences since the previous event: discs that hummed faintly when held, unexplainable dreams of ancient symbols, and the persistent sensation of being watched.
Ezra Katz surveyed the assembly from atop a small rise, his weathered hands gripping a leather-bound tome. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Katarina Novak moving through the crowd, her midnight-blue coat adorned with silver embroidery that seemed to shift and reconfigure when viewed from different angles.
"Last week's... anomalies... were merely the beginning," Ezra announced as players gathered around him. "Today, we continue our season, but I must urge caution. The energies awakened here have consequences beyond our understanding."
Katarina stepped forward, her violet eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement. "What my colleague means to say is that we stand at the threshold of discovery." She gestured to a tournament layout map that bore unusual markings around certain holes. "Today's format is unlike any you've experienced. Each card will follow a specific path through the course—paths that may reveal patterns to the observant player."
Ezra studied the layout with growing concern. The designated paths formed fragments of what he recognized as an ancient binding sigil—one used in the creation of protectors like the Golem. When combined, they would lead players to converge on a previously overlooked area between the twelfth and thirteenth holes.
"I see you've designed quite the... innovative format," Ezra said carefully, meeting Katarina's gaze.
She smiled thinly. "Innovation requires us to break from tradition, doesn't it? After all, what's the purpose of knowledge if not to advance beyond the limitations of the past?"
Malachi Vazquez stood apart from the other players, his slender fingers tracing the outline of his bag tag. Unlike the others, his tag—depicting a spectral figure composed of swirling mist and ancient text—seemed to ripple beneath his touch. The "Ritual Wraith," as it was called, had been in his possession for only a week, yet it had already changed him in ways he struggled to articulate.
"You feel it too, don't you?"
Malachi turned to find Clayton Strayer standing beside him, the Arcane Revenant's eyes containing that same unnatural violet luminescence witnessed at the previous tournament.
"The artifact calls to those attuned to its frequency," Clayton continued, his voice carrying that strange harmonic quality. "Your Wraith senses it beneath the earth. That's why she gave you that tag."
Malachi glanced down at his bag tag, which now emitted a barely perceptible hum. "I didn't ask for this connection," he whispered. "The dreams keep getting worse. Last night, I saw symbols burning in the air, and hands—clay hands—reaching up through the soil."
Clayton nodded. "The Wraith was born of similar rituals to those that created the Golem. It exists between worlds, capable of perceiving what remains hidden to ordinary senses. That's why Katarina values your participation today."
Before Malachi could respond, a shudder passed through his body. The air around him briefly shimmered, and for a moment, spectral tendrils extended from his bag tag, wrapping around his throwing arm.
"It's getting stronger," Malachi murmured, his voice tinged with both fear and fascination. "I can barely control it now."
Clayton's expression remained impassive. "Control is an illusion. Embrace what it offers, and you'll find your throws guided by knowledge centuries old."
The tournament began under clear skies, though players quickly noticed their discs behaving in increasingly unusual ways. Drives that should have faded left drifted right instead. Putts that appeared perfectly centered would curve at the last moment, as if pulled by invisible forces.
By the fifth hole, a pattern had emerged. Regardless of skill level or throwing technique, players' discs seemed drawn toward specific areas of the course—areas that corresponded to the unusual markings on Katarina's tournament map.
Ezra watched from the sidelines, documenting these anomalies in his notebook. "The course itself responds to the awakening," he muttered. "The Golem's influence grows stronger, affecting the physical world in ways I haven't seen in decades."
On the eighth hole, Malachi stepped up to the tee pad, his hands trembling slightly. The spectators fell silent as they noticed a faint, misty aura surrounding him. His bag tag glowed with a subtle blue-white light.
"The Ritual Wraith guides the seeker," Malachi whispered, his voice suddenly carrying an echo that wasn't his own. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they had taken on the same spectral luminescence as Clayton's.
His drive soared through the air in a path that defied conventional physics, curving around three large trees before landing precisely at a spot where the ground appeared slightly discolored. The disc didn't bounce or roll—it simply embedded itself into the soil as if drawn there by magnetic force.
Katarina approached Malachi as he walked down the fairway, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Your connection grows stronger. The Wraith recognizes what lies beneath."
Malachi nodded, his expression distant. "It whispers to me. Ancient words in languages I shouldn't understand, yet somehow I do."
When they reached his disc, Malachi knelt beside it. The ground beneath had begun to crack in a pattern resembling Hebrew letters. He placed his palm against the soil, and the spectral tendrils from his bag tag extended downward, seeping into the earth.
"There's something here," he said, his voice now fully overlaid with the Wraith's ethereal tones. "Something buried long ago. I can feel it calling."
By the twelfth hole, the tournament had transformed from competition into something more ritualistic. Players found themselves arranged in formations across the course that, when viewed from above, would have resembled fragments of an ancient sigil.
Ezra approached a group of players who seemed confused by the increasingly strange occurrences.
"What you're experiencing is the resonance of ancient energies," he explained, his voice low and urgent. "Katarina's tournament design isn't random—it's a ritual disguised as competition. You're being positioned to help unearth something that was deliberately hidden."
One player gestured toward where Malachi stood near the thirteenth tee. The young man was now surrounded by a visible aura of spectral energy, his bag tag floating several inches from his chest, suspended by tendrils of misty light.
"What's happening to him?" the player asked.
Ezra frowned. "The Ritual Wraith is an entity created through failed attempts to animate a Golem. It exists between worlds, seeking to complete the ritual that gave it partial existence. Malachi has become its vessel."
"Is he in danger?"
"We all are," Ezra replied grimly. "Knowledge without wisdom is a path to destruction. Katarina seeks power without understanding its purpose or cost."
As players converged on the area between the twelfth and thirteenth holes, the air grew increasingly charged with energy. Discs thrown within fifty feet of the location began to glow with faint sigils that matched those on Katarina's tournament map.
Malachi stood at the center of this convergence, the Ritual Wraith now partially manifested as a swirling, translucent form extending from his bag tag. His eyes had become pools of spectral light, and when he spoke, his voice carried the layered echoes of something ancient.
"Here," the Wraith spoke through him, one arm extended toward a patch of ground that appeared no different from the surrounding area. "The sigil's secret lies beneath. Three cubits down, sealed in clay and blood."
Katarina approached, her expression triumphant. From her coat, she produced a small silver trowel inscribed with Hebrew characters. "The time has come to reclaim what was hidden," she announced to the gathered players. "What we unearth today will reveal the true purpose of the Golem—not merely as a protector, but as a vessel for transformation."
As she began to dig, Ezra pushed through the crowd. "Stop! You don't understand what you're unleashing!"
But it was too late. Katarina's trowel struck something solid beneath the soil, producing a sound like breaking glass. A pulse of energy erupted from the ground, knocking several nearby players off their feet.
Malachi dropped to his knees, the Wraith's form now fully manifest above him—a spectral figure composed of swirling text and mist, its features shifting between human and something decidedly not.
"The vessel is found," the Wraith intoned through Malachi. "The first fragment of creation."
Katarina continued digging, eventually revealing a clay container sealed with wax bearing Hebrew symbols. With reverent care, she lifted it from the earth and brushed away the soil.
"The Sigil of Animation," she announced, her voice carrying across the now-silent course. "The first key to understanding how Rabbi Loew created the Golem of Prague."
Ezra approached cautiously. "That container holds dangerous knowledge, Katarina. It was buried for a reason."
"All knowledge is dangerous to those who fear it," she replied coolly. "The time for hiding in ignorance has passed."
With deliberate movements, she broke the wax seal. The container opened with a hiss of escaping air that had been trapped for centuries. Inside lay a parchment scroll and a small clay figurine—a miniature Golem with the Hebrew word "emet" (truth) inscribed on its forehead.
Malachi, still channeling the Ritual Wraith, reached toward the artifacts. "The first fragment... the breath of creation... the word that animates clay."
Katarina carefully unrolled the parchment, revealing intricate diagrams and Hebrew text. "This is merely the first piece," she announced to the gathered players. "The scroll speaks of three keys needed to fully awaken the Golem. This sigil—" she pointed to a complex symbol at the center of the parchment, "—represents the breath of life, the first stage of animation."
Ezra studied the parchment with growing concern. "You're reading it selectively, Katarina. The warnings are clear. 'To breathe life into clay without purpose is to create destruction.'"
"Purpose is precisely what I intend to provide," she countered. Turning to the assembled players, she raised her voice. "Today marks a turning point. The Arcane Seekers have recovered the first key to unlocking ancient power. Those who wish to be part of this awakening, to learn secrets hidden for centuries, are welcome to join us."
She gestured toward Malachi, who still knelt with the Ritual Wraith manifested above him. "As you can see, knowledge offers more than just improved disc golf skills. It offers transformation."
Ezra stepped forward. "And those who value protection over power, who understand that the Golem was created to defend, not to dominate—you are welcome among the Guardians. We seek balance, not control."
The players looked between the two faction leaders, the division among them growing more pronounced. Some were clearly drawn to Katarina's promises of power and knowledge, while others were disturbed by the manifestation of the Ritual Wraith and Malachi's altered state.
Clayton moved to stand beside Katarina, his form once again showing glimpses of the ancient text swirling within his chest cavity. "The choice is simple," he said, his harmonic voice carrying across the gathering. "Remain bound by limitations, or transcend them."
As the tournament concluded, players began to choose sides. Those aligned with the Arcane Seekers gathered around Katarina as she continued to study the scroll. The Golem Guardians congregated near Ezra, who was sketching protective symbols in his notebook.
Malachi remained caught between worlds, the Ritual Wraith now partially reabsorbed into his bag tag but still visible as a misty aura surrounding him. He approached Katarina, his movements jerky and unnatural.
"The Wraith knows where the second key lies," he said, his voice still carrying ethereal echoes. "It sees connections between places of power. The next fragment awaits at the crossing of water and stone."
Katarina nodded, placing the miniature Golem figurine in Malachi's palm. "Keep this close. It will strengthen your connection to the Wraith and help us locate the remaining keys."
As Malachi's fingers closed around the clay figure, it seemed to pulse with inner light. The Hebrew letters on its forehead briefly glowed, then rearranged themselves into a different configuration.
Ezra observed this exchange from a distance, his expression grim. He turned to the players who had chosen to stand with the Guardians.
"The Arcane Seekers have claimed the first victory in this awakening," he acknowledged. "But they read only part of the text, seeing power without purpose. The Golem was created to protect the Jewish community of Prague from persecution—a shield, not a sword."
He opened his leather-bound tome to reveal illustrations that matched the sigil on Katarina's parchment. "What they've uncovered is indeed the breath of life—the first step in animation. But without the sigil of purpose and the sigil of binding, such power becomes chaotic and uncontrollable."
One of the players pointed toward Malachi, who now sat alone, communing with the figurine as the Ritual Wraith swirled around him. "What's happening to him?"
"The Wraith is a fragment of a failed Golem ritual," Ezra explained. "Neither fully formed nor fully dispersed, it exists in a state of perpetual hunger for completion. It seeks the knowledge to finish its creation—but such completion would come at the cost of its human vessel."
Another player frowned. "Can we help him?"
"Perhaps," Ezra said thoughtfully. "The Wraith is drawn to artifacts associated with Golem creation. If we can locate the sigil of binding before Katarina finds the sigil of purpose, we might be able to contain the Wraith without destroying it or harming Malachi."
As twilight fell over Art Dye, most players had departed, leaving only the most committed members of each faction. Katarina had established a small research area near where the artifact had been uncovered, with lanterns providing illumination as she continued to study the parchment.
Malachi sat cross-legged nearby, the clay figurine placed on the ground before him. The Ritual Wraith had fully emerged from his bag tag now, a spectral entity that circled him like mist given purpose and partial form.
"Show me," Katarina instructed. "Show me what you see through the Wraith's perception."
Malachi closed his eyes, and when he spoke, the Wraith's voice overlaid his own. "Water crossing stone... ancient trees that remember... a basket bound in chains where none should be. The second key waits where the forest remembers its dead."
Clayton approached, carrying a map of regional disc golf courses. "That sounds like Creekside Woods," he suggested. "The back nine crosses a stone bridge over the creek, and there's an abandoned cemetery deeper in the forest."
Katarina nodded, marking the location on the map. "Then that's where we'll hold the next tournament. The Arcane Seekers will claim the second key before the Guardians even understand what we've found today."
From the shadows beyond the lantern light, Ezra watched this exchange with growing concern. He quietly withdrew a small clay amulet from his pocket—similar to the figurine Malachi now possessed, but with different Hebrew characters inscribed upon it.
"The awakening accelerates," he whispered to himself. "The Golem stirs beneath the earth, responding to the sigil's discovery. If Katarina obtains all three keys before we can intervene..."
He left the thought unfinished, turning instead to make his way back to where the remaining Guardians waited. As he walked, he failed to notice the subtle shift in the ground beneath his feet—a ripple in the earth, as if something massive had turned over in its sleep far below.
In the research area, Malachi suddenly gasped, his eyes flying open. The Ritual Wraith contracted violently, then expanded in a pulse of spectral energy.
"It moves," Malachi whispered, his voice now entirely his own, filled with terror. "The Golem. It heard us. It's awakening."
Katarina's expression shifted from concern to triumph. "Then we proceed exactly as planned," she said, carefully rolling the parchment and placing it in a protective case. "The Arcane Seekers have won the first battle for the Golem's legacy. The next will soon follow."
The clay figurine at Malachi's feet had shifted position, seemingly on its own. It now pointed toward Creekside Woods, its featureless face somehow conveying an expression of anticipation.
The Sigil's Secret had been revealed, but its full meaning—and the consequences of its discovery—remained to be seen. As night fully descended on Art Dye, the first key to the Golem's awakening pulsed with ancient power, sending ripples through the veil between worlds, calling to those who would seek the remaining fragments of its creation.
Flippy's Hot Take