Ridgefire: The Mount Winter Series
Jan 19 - Mar 22, 2026
Current Holder
Zachary Johnson
Verdict Keeper
Granite Judgment Meets Wyrm-Grace Harmony
Compels Honesty, Even in Self
Aspects refreshed Jan 22, 2026
When the Sunset Court and Farmington Aerie nearly fractured over conflicting assessments of a legendary keeper's worthiness, the granite peaks themselves trembled in distress. From that seismic discord, the Verdict Keeper emerged—neither Court dragon nor Aerie wyrm, but something older still. It exists to harmonize both traditions' standards, ensuring judgments rendered under alpenglow hold equal weight to bonds forged on frontier grounds.
The Verdict Keeper exists in perpetual duality—one half carved from Court granite with the imposing presence of elder judgment, the other flowing with Aerie wyrm-grace and frontier flexibility. It manifests wherever verdicts hang in balance, materializing at the threshold between earned and unearned. Its eyes burn with split purpose: one reflects the golden alpenglow of Court authority, the other the warm copper of Aerie partnership. Those who stand before it find themselves compelled toward brutal honesty about their own worthiness, unable to claim recognition they haven't earned.
The Verdict Keeper enforces the boundary between those who've earned their scales and those who remain forgotten. It ensures no verdict—whether Court judgment or Aerie bond—can be falsely claimed or unjustly disputed, maintaining the integrity of recognition across all sixteen trials.
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Your series bag tag moved from #2 to #12 based on your round ratings in the last two weeks.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Forged in the schism between mountain and frontier, the Verdict Keeper is a tag with a chip on its granite shoulder. It doesn't care about your excuses or your highlight reel. It exists to ask the one question you're afraid to answer: "Did you actually earn this?" Its dual nature means it judges both your raw score and the spirit you played with. Good luck—it's seen better.
The Verdict Keeper, Tag #2, materialized not with a roar, but with a silent, settling weight. It found Zachary Johnson not on a mountaintop or frontier, but in the quiet aftermath of a round where his scorecard told one story and his conscience another. The tag’s dual gaze—one of granite judgment, one of fluid grace—fixed on him. It didn’t ask for his score. It simply waited, forcing the only question that mattered in that moment of self-audit: Did you earn this? Zachary took a breath, reached out, and accepted the burden of an honest answer.