
Jared Fager #254077

The Phoenix Series @ Art Dye
Wielding the power of Penumbral Prism (#82), Jared demonstrated exceptional skill by playing +10 points above their rating in this epic clash.
Crystal Conspiracy
The icy winds of winter have gripped Art Dye as Maxwell 'Frostbite' Flynn and Daniel McIllece investigate the chilling phenomena plaguing the course. Strange ice formations, eerie symbols, and sightings of a shimmering phoenix made of living frost have drawn the detectives into a supernatural mystery that threatens to consume the very nature of the game. With the arrival of enigmatic figures like Kenneth Oetker and his Hyperborean Helix bag tag pulsing with eldritch power, the impossible has become reality as mythical forces stir in the shadows. As Maxwell and Daniel confront the terrifying truth behind the Ice Phoenix and the haunting prophecies of the long-vanished Elyse, the stage is set for a climactic confrontation that will determine the fate of Art Dye—and the future of disc golf itself.



Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Crystal Conspiracy
Maxwell hunched over the ancient texts, his breath fogging in the unnatural chill that permeated the clubhouse. Beside him, Daniel rubbed his hands together, his eyes wide as he scanned the faded pages.
"I don't like this, Max," he muttered. "These symbols, the references to eternal winter - it's just like the ones we found at the ice formations."
Maxwell grunted, his finger tracing a line of jagged runes. "There's something here about a 'Penumbral Prism'. Says it can reveal hidden truths about the Phoenix."
He tapped the page - and jerked his hand back as frost began to crackle across the parchment. The icy tendrils raced over the words, obscuring them behind a crystalline veil.
Daniel stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching for his disc. "What the hell?"
Maxwell shook his head, his eyes never leaving the now-frozen text. "Looks like someone doesn't want us reading any further."
He stood abruptly, the legs of his chair squealing against the cold concrete. "The Prism. We need to find it. And I think I know where to start."
The unnatural chill seemed to have seeped into the very soil of Art Dye. Maxwell's breath plumed before him as he stalked toward the huddled figure on the 13th tee pad.
Jared Fager stood apart from the other players, his hands compulsively checked his bag, lingering on a small, shadow-dark crystal that dangled from the zipper.
Maxwell cleared his throat, and Jared flinched as if struck. "We need to talk," Maxwell growled. "About the Penumbral Prism."
Jared licked his lips, his gaze darting left and right like a hunted animal. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."
Daniel stepped forward, his expression earnest. "Jared, please. We know the Prism's connected to the Ice Phoenix. We just want to understand how."
For a moment, Jared seemed to waver. Then, in a rush of words, he said, "It showed me...a ritual. To summon the Phoenix."
Maxwell's eyes narrowed. "What kind of ritual? When? Where?"
But Jared was already backing away, his hands held before him as if to ward off Maxwell's questions. "I can't...I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry, I can't!"
He turned and sprinted into the woods, leaving the detectives staring after him.
Maxwell swore under his breath. "Whatever he saw, it's got him spooked."
"Spooked is right," Daniel murmured. "This cold, Max, it's not right. It's like the course itself is turning against us."
Maxwell turned to reply, but his words died in his throat. There, at the edge of the trees, stood a figure he had hoped to never see again.
Elyse met his gaze, her ice-chip eyes glittering with malice. As Maxwell watched, her lips curved into a smile as cold as the grave.
Then she was gone, vanishing into the shadows like a frigid mirage.
Maxwell felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the unnatural chill. "She's here," he whispered. "God help us, she's here."
The wind picked up, moaning through the skeletal trees. It sounded like mocking laughter.
The pieces fall into place, Elyse's voice whispered in the gale. Soon, the Phoenix will rise...and winter will reign forever.
Maxwell looked to Daniel, seeing his own grim certainty reflected in the other man's eyes. They were being played, maneuvered like discs on a frozen course.
And if they didn't find a way to break free, the final hole would be their last.
Flippy's Hot Take