Ridgefire: The Mount Winter Series
Jan 19 - Mar 22, 2026
Current Holder
Marcus Rich
Ascent Cipher
Ancient Stone Decoder of Worthiness Trajectories
Obsessed with Patterns, Blind to Surprises
Aspects refreshed Jan 08, 2026
The elder dragons discovered that not all ascents toward worthiness followed predictable trajectories—some spiraled, some stalled, some leaped forward unexpectedly. They created the Ascent Cipher to decode these complex patterns, distinguishing true upward momentum from circular wandering across the proving grounds.
The Ascent Cipher manifests as an ever-shifting array of glyphs carved into ancient stone, rearranging themselves after each trial to reflect emerging patterns of worthiness. It emits distinct harmonic frequencies when detecting genuine upward momentum versus circular repetition, the tones resonating differently through Court granite and Aerie timber. Its surface texture shifts from smooth confidence to rough uncertainty based on trajectory clarity, becoming mirror-polished when a path toward remembrance crystallizes.
Functions as the decoder of worthiness trajectories, distinguishing between challengers who are climbing toward recognition and those who are merely circling the base of the mountain.
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Your series bag tag moved from #9 to #10 based on your round ratings in the last two weeks.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Forged from the Court's own granite, the Ascent Cipher was supposed to be a wise judge of progress. Instead, it developed the personality of a skeptical statistician with a migraine. It doesn't just track your climb; it judges the efficiency of your route, humming in approval at a clean birdie and groaning audibly at a bogey saved by luck. Its glyphs don't shift to show your rank—they rearrange into increasingly sarcastic flowcharts of your round. It's less a badge of honor and more a petulant stone coach that lives in your bag.
The Ascent Cipher, Tag #9, had been humming a low, skeptical tone for weeks, decoding what it saw as Marcus Rich’s circular wandering. Then, on a treacherous ridge hole, Marcus’s drive defied the wind, his upshot threaded granite guardians, and his putt was pure, clean chain music. The stone in his hand grew warm, its glyphs shifting from a tangled flowchart into a single, sharp, upward arrow. The hum became a clear, resonant chime of approval. It had found its first true pattern: momentum.