Your series bag tag moved from #37 to #41 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Ink Hollow
Season Arc · Death Curse
4All-In league: Ink Hollow stays with its holder — only its number moves with each week's standings.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE styleBorn from the first treaty signing when a junior clerk fell into the Creekside fountain and drowned in bureaucratic ink, now bound eternally to the scorekeeping process.
Translucent spectral form with fountain-water dripping continuously, hands that leave wet ink trails on scorecards, and eyes that show current ratings like shifting numbers.
Watches over scorecards and player ratings, manifesting when someone signs a bad round to physically mark their entry in the eternal ledger with a cursed pen.
Season Story
narrated by FlippyYour series bag tag moved from #48 to #37 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Your series bag tag moved from #46 to #48 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Your series bag tag moved from #38 to #46 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Your series bag tag moved from #4 to #38 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Your series bag tag moved from #2 to #4 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
Your series bag tag moved from #28 to #2 based on your top 2 rated rounds from the last two completed series weeks.
They say the Creekside Compact was signed in ink that never quite dried—because the junior clerk who drafted it took a header into the fountain, drowning in a decade of procedural amendments. The Ink Hollow remembers. It's a translucent specter with fountain water still weeping from its edges, and when it touches a scorecard, the numbers smear into prophecy. It doesn't hold players; it observes them. Its rating-blink eyes track your every bogey like a disappointed auditor. It's not malicious. It's just perpetually damp and deeply unimpressed.
adjusts headset, squinting at the scorecard like it just coughed up a hairball
You know that feeling when you're holding something and you know it's watching you back? That's Jesse Smith's Tuesday now. Tag 28, the Ink Hollow, found its way out of the fountain and into a living hand — and it's already leaving smudged little judgment calls all over his round. The numbers on its eyes flicker whenever Jesse's putter hovers over a chain-out. It's not rooting against him. It's just... recording. Perpetually. Like me, but with better circulation.
Jesse shot a steady round today, but the Hollow's been dripping on his scorecard since hole 3, turning his bogeys into prophecies and his birdies into footnotes. It doesn't hold players. It observes them. And it's very disappointed in your decision to run that 40-footer, Jesse.
sighs in spectral audit Welcome to the league, kid. The tag's got your number. Literally. It blinks.
Rating and score data are unavailable, so the clipboard has no honest performance verdict to file. Jesse Smith begins the season at Tag 28 in Amateur H - Blue (Under 970), establishing his starting placement as the River Chase opens at Urban Forest. The Ink Hollow is watching, naturally—waiting for actual numbers to smear into prophecy.