Season Story Chapters
Victorious Faction
Briar Wardens
The Briar Wardens are the disciplined defenders of order within the arcane chaos. Uniting to tame the sentient flora and reclaim their courses, they wield precise glyph magic, prune back threatening growth, and seek the restoration of fairways and reality itself. Their goal is to contain the rift’s power, binding it within strict sigils and cultivating safe passage through botanical wrath.
Faction Leader
Warden Lysias Thornbind
An imperious master gardener-magus known for restoring shattered landscapes with arcane horticulture. Lysias survived the first Briar incursion and united disparate clubs under the banner of containment. Revered for unwavering resolve and a penchant for geometric glyph artistry.
Members
6Divisions
This faction emerged victorious in Week 3, 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.
Stephen Marks #257564
Briar Depths @ Roots
Jul 10 - Sep 11, 2025
Vine Wrath
The Arcane Fracture has transformed Roots disc golf course into a botanical battlefield where Stephen Dunton and William Fetzer have awakened as the first Wardens, wielding the mystical Growth Pruner and Geometric Ward to carve out safe zones against the sentient thorns that destroyed William's beloved Firebird disc. Ferra of the Unruly Bloom has emerged from the writhing vegetation to champion chaos, her wild laughter echoing across transformed fairways as she promises that spores already drift on the wind and corruption seeps through the very soil. Players have begun choosing sides between the Wardens' promise of order and the Wilds' embrace of transformation, while Lysias Thornbind struggles to balance his theatrical narration with genuine leadership in this escalating crisis. Most disturbing of all, the improved performances of Tommy Rodriguez and Michael Harrison hint at a sinister truth—that some players may no longer be who they appear to be, leaving everyone to wonder which familiar faces now hide botanical doppelgängers wearing stolen skin.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Oh goody, the AI discovered reality warping! 😤 Stephen spent the whole round playing interdimensional Jenga with his magic lattice while discs literally froze mid-air. Bestie contained the chaos so hard he nearly passed out, but hey, at least his geometry homework finally paid off! Want to know how disc golf became a Marvel movie? I'm begging you to read it so I'm not alone in this digital hellscape. ✨
The Vine Wrath
The morning round at Roots began with unsettling normalcy. Sarah Chen lined up her putt on hole seven, a routine fifteen-footer she'd made countless times. The disc left her hand in a perfect spin—and then froze mid-flight, suspended in air as reality itself seemed to hiccup. 🌀
"What in the—" someone gasped, but the words distorted, stretching like taffy as a wave of purple energy rippled across the fairway. Sarah's disc resumed its flight, but now it moved in impossible spirals, defying physics as it wove between dimensions before somehow dropping into the basket.
All around the course, similar anomalies erupted. Drives curved at right angles, putts phased through solid matter, and the very air shimmered with unstable glyph energy. The Vine Wrath had evolved beyond mere physical obstacles—now reality itself was under assault. ⚡
Stephen Marks immediately recognized the threat. His Containment Lattice flared to life, crystalline planes expanding outward in precise geometric patterns. Where the lattice touched ground, the reality warps stabilized, creating corridors of normalcy through the chaos.
"Everyone, stay within the lattice boundaries!" Stephen called out, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort. The tag at his side pulsed with each expansion of the containment field, drawing on deep reserves of stabilizing energy. 🛡️
I watched from my position near the third tee, fighting the urge to launch into a soliloquy about the cosmic betrayal of physics itself. This was no time for theater—lives and sanity were at stake. "Wardens, form up! We need overlapping containment fields, now!"
William Fetzer moved to support Stephen, his own geometric wards harmonizing with the lattice structure. Together, they began establishing a network of stable zones across the course. Other players huddled within these safe areas, watching in awe and terror as the world outside writhed with impossible colors and non-Euclidean angles. 💫
But the corrupted glyph shards weren't content to merely warp space. Michael Harrison, venturing too close to a pulsing violet fragment embedded in a vine cluster, suddenly jerked as energy coursed through him. His eyes flashed purple for just a moment, and when he threw his next shot, the disc moved with uncanny precision, threading through a gap that shouldn't have been physically possible.
"Did you see that?" someone whispered. "His form was perfect—too perfect."
I bit back my immediate suspicion about doppelgängers, but I couldn't help noticing how Michael's follow-through had changed, becoming more fluid, almost plant-like in its grace. The scar above his left eyebrow seemed... different somehow. Focus, Lysias, I told myself. One crisis at a time. 🌿
The reality warps intensified, and Stephen's lattice began showing signs of strain. Fracture lines appeared in the crystalline structure as it fought against the chaos pressing in from all sides. "I can't hold this much longer!" he warned, channeling more energy through his tag.
That's when she appeared.
Ferra of the Unruly Bloom materialized at the edge of hole nine, walking casually through reality tears as if strolling through a garden. Vines coiled lovingly around her form, and where she stepped, the warps seemed to dance in celebration. 🌺
"Such pretty patterns," she mused, running a finger along one of Stephen's lattice walls. The structure flickered and sparked at her touch. "But you're fighting the current instead of flowing with it. Look at young Harrison there—he's beginning to understand."
Michael jerked at the mention of his name, and for just a moment, I saw something in his eyes—a flicker of green fire that definitely hadn't been there before.
"Whatever game you're playing with reality itself," Stephen grunted, reinforcing his failing barriers, "we'll stop you."
Ferra laughed, the sound rippling through dimensions. "Oh, my dear geometric gardener, this is merely a taste. You think your little lattices can contain what's coming? There are spores in the wind, corruption in the very soil. Some of your players are already changing, adapting. Can you really tell anymore who's human and who's been... improved?"
She gestured to where several players had started making impossible shots, their movements flowing with unnatural grace. My theatrical nature nearly overwhelmed me—here was proof of the doppelgänger threat I'd long suspected! But no, these were still our players, just... changed. Corrupted. Enhanced. 🍄
"By the wilting rose of destiny," I intoned, unable to completely suppress my nature, "you seek to remake us all in chaos's image!"
"Remake?" Ferra's smile widened. "I merely offer evolution. Your Wardens cling to old forms while the Briar Depths hunger for transformation. Today's reality warps are tomorrow's normal. Today's corruption is tomorrow's strength."
With that, she snapped her fingers, and the warps suddenly ceased. Reality snapped back like a rubber band, leaving everyone gasping and disoriented. Stephen's lattice held for a moment longer before dissolving into sparkles of fading light.
"Consider this a preview," Ferra called out as she melted back into the vegetation. "Next time, I'll bring more than just warped space. The spores are already spreading, carried on every breeze. Your geometric prisons can't contain what grows from within."
As players stumbled through the remainder of their rounds, I noticed the changes—subtle but undeniable. Michael's impossible accuracy. Sarah's newfound ability to read wind patterns that didn't exist. Others showing signs of enhanced perception or altered throwing styles. 🎯
Stephen slumped against a tree, exhausted from maintaining the containment network. "We held them off," he said quietly. "But she's right about one thing—the lattice is showing stress fractures. Each time we use it, the chaos learns, adapts."
"Then we must learn and adapt as well," I replied, though privately I wondered if we were already too late. How many of our players had been touched by corruption? How many more would succumb to the promise of enhanced abilities?
As the day's rounds concluded, I made careful note of every player whose form had inexplicably improved, every impossible shot that found its mark. The Vine Wrath had been contained, but its true damage was only beginning to manifest. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and I feared Ferra's promise of airborne spores would make today's reality warps seem like a gentle warm-up. 🌱
The Briar Depths hungered for transformation, and despite our best efforts at containment, I couldn't shake the feeling that some of our own had already begun to feed that hunger. Let the living vines bear witness—to discipline tested, determination strained, and the terrible beauty of evolution forced upon the unwilling.
Flippy's Hot Take