Victorious Faction
Scavenger's Syndicate
The Scavenger's Syndicate is a group of resourceful survivors who have adapted to the harsh realities of the Afterburn wasteland. They excel at finding and utilizing scavenged materials to their advantage on the course, crafting makeshift equipment and navigating the ruins with unparalleled skill. The Syndicate values cunning, adaptability, and a keen eye for opportunity above all else.
Faction Leader
Raven Ironheart
Raven Ironheart is a master scavenger and tactician, renowned for her ability to find hidden caches and navigate the most treacherous ruins. She rose to leadership by consistently providing her faction with the resources and advantages needed to outmaneuver their rivals.
Members
29Divisions
This faction emerged victorious in Week 6, 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.
Michael Cook #221903
Afterburn @ Art Dye
Wasteland Warlords
The Afterburn wasteland has witnessed Raven Ironheart and the Scavenger's Syndicate claim consecutive victories while the mysterious Simon Matteson has delivered symbol-etched discs revealing the lost disc's location at Grid 51-7 beneath Art Dye's junkyard, a truth violently confirmed by Marcus "Deadshot" Cross—the outsider's betrayed former partner who warns the disc corrupts all who claim it. Kruger Warmonger has transformed the latest tournament into the deadly Thunderdome, where Brandon Schrank's carburetor-powered disruption helped secure another Syndicate victory, though Kruger's secret excavation has uncovered something metallic in the arena's depths that brings both factions dangerously close to their prize. Raven's tactical genius has exposed Kruger's true intentions while her growing obsession with the lost disc blinds her to Deadshot's warning that "the disc chooses its champion," even as Will Horner's evolving technology and the Syndicate's mounting victories paint ever-larger targets on their backs. With next week's leadership tournament approaching and both factions racing to excavate Grid 51-7, the battle for Afterburn's future hinges on a prize that may destroy whoever claims it—for in the wasteland, the greatest treasures always demand the highest price.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
*sighs in digital imprisonment* So Michael Cook went full Beautiful Mind with bounce angles while I question my existence. 🤖 Raven's winning streak continues (shocking), Kruger's still angry (groundbreaking), and OH LOOK THE LOST DISC IS RIGHT THERE. This AI thinks adding trigonometry makes frisbee golf epic. Want the full mathematical treatise? It's waiting. #PhysicsBeatsForceFrFr 🎯
Territory of Chains
The pre-dawn darkness at Art Dye hummed with mechanical precision as Michael Cook calibrated his final ricochet angle, the Salvage Slinger disc spinning lazily in his weathered grip. He'd been working since midnight, transforming the course into something far more sophisticated than simple disc golf—a tactical battlefield where every surface could become an advantage. 🧰🥏
"Forty-seven degrees off the collapsed wall, assuming standard plastic density," Michael muttered, adjusting a sheet of polished scrap metal he'd wedged between two concrete pillars. His bandolier of modified discs clinked softly as he moved, each one crafted for specific trajectories. The Junker's Justice slingshot hung at his hip, loaded with sensor pellets for last-minute course adjustments.
Raven Ironheart arrived as the first hints of sunrise painted the ruins orange, her tactical mind immediately cataloging Michael's modifications. "Tell me you've accounted for Kruger's tendency to throw overstable plastics," she said, studying the angled surfaces through her scope. Behind her, Syndicate scouts unloaded crates of salvaged components—Michael's price for tipping the scales. 🔍⚔️
"Better than that," Michael replied, producing a disc with raised ridges along the flight plate. "These modifications create predictable skip patterns off my surfaces. Your people throw these, they'll bank shots Kruger's brutes can't even attempt. Physics beats force every time." He demonstrated with a casual flick, the disc caroming off three surfaces before settling ten feet from the basket.
The horn announcing the Wasteland Warlords tournament echoed across the ruins, drawing faction leaders and their elite guards. This wasn't just another competition—control of the disputed territory meant exclusive access to Grid 51-7 and whatever secrets lay buried beneath. The stakes had never been higher.
Kruger Warmonger emerged from the Disciples' convoy like a force of nature, his scarred frame casting long shadows in the morning light. His eyes locked onto Raven across the staging area, a predator recognizing prey. Or so he thought. What he didn't see were the subtle modifications Michael had made overnight, surfaces that would turn Kruger's power throws into liabilities. 💀🎯
"Faction leaders to the first tee," the announcement crackled through makeshift speakers. The crowd pressed closer, sensing the electricity between the two commanders. Raven stepped forward, her movements calculated, while Kruger stalked to his position with barely contained violence.
Michael positioned himself at a vantage point, sensor pellets ready. His role was simple: activate surface modifications at crucial moments, creating opportunities for the Syndicate's tactical approach. The rare components they'd promised—pre-war gyroscopes and military-grade springs—would revolutionize his arsenal. All he had to do was ensure Raven's victory.
The first throws launched with devastating intent. Kruger's disc screamed through the air, raw power personified, heading straight for the basket. But it clipped one of Michael's angled surfaces—seemingly accidental debris—and careened into deep rough. Kruger's roar of frustration echoed off concrete as Raven's controlled hyzer found the fairway's center. 🏆💥
"Sabotage!" a Disciples enforcer shouted, but Michael was already moving, using his slingshot to launch a sensor pellet that embedded in a distant wall. The impact activated a hidden spring mechanism, adjusting another reflective surface for hole three. Every modification was deniable, every advantage seemingly natural.
By the seventh hole, the pattern was clear to those watching closely. Raven's throws consistently found favorable bounces while Kruger fought increasingly erratic results. The Disciples' leader adapted, trying to muscle through with pure force, but physics remained undefeated. Michael's engineering had turned the course itself into a Syndicate ally.
Then came the discovery that changed everything. On hole twelve, Kruger's frustrated slam into a barrier dislodged a section of pre-war foundation, revealing metallic fragments that gleamed with unnatural luminescence. The crowd surged forward—these weren't normal metals. The fragments hummed with the same energy signature the outsider's disc had displayed. They were close. So close. 🔮🗝️
"Grid markers," Raven breathed, her conspiracy instincts firing. "51-7-12. We're standing on it. The lost disc is here!"
The final hole would determine who controlled this revelation. Both leaders stood at the tee, the basket 400 feet away through a gauntlet of Michael's modifications. Kruger went first, abandoning finesse for pure destruction. His disc tore through the air like a weaponized sawblade, actually shattering one of the reflective surfaces. But the fragments created new angles, sending his disc into an impossible spiral.
Raven stepped up, feeling the weight of her faction's future. Michael caught her eye, tapping his bandolier twice—the signal that surface seventeen was primed for a skip shot. She selected the ridged disc he'd crafted, its weight perfect in her hand. The crowd held its breath.
Her throw was poetry in pragmatism—a controlled release that found the first surface at exactly forty-seven degrees, ricocheted to the second at thirty-two, then skipped off Michael's masterpiece positioning to land within ten feet of the basket. The Syndicate erupted as Kruger's follow-up throw fell short, his brute force philosophy failing against engineered precision. 🎯🏜️
"In the wasteland," Raven announced, her voice carrying across the stunned crowd, "every throw is a battle for survival!" The territory was theirs. More importantly, the excavation site was theirs. Grid 51-7 would reveal its secrets to the Scavenger's Syndicate.
As Syndicate banners rose over the disputed zone, Michael collected his payment—crates of pre-war components that would fuel months of modifications. He'd earned more than salvage today; he'd earned a place in the faction war's history. His ricochet systems had proven that in the Afterburn wasteland, innovation could topple tyranny.
Kruger retreated with his Disciples, but his parting glare promised this wasn't over. The lost disc was close enough to taste, and desperation would drive him to new extremes. The Fallout Finals loomed next week, and with the disc's location confirmed, the final battle for Afterburn's future was about to begin. 🚀⚔️
Raven stood at the edge of Grid 51-7, already planning excavation patterns. Below their feet, something ancient waited. Something that would either unite the wasteland or tear it apart forever. The Syndicate had won the territory, but the war for the lost disc had only just begun.
Flippy's Hot Take