adjusts horned headset Jason Skjaret just posted a 45 on a 48.6 field average and a 915 round rating—that's a +73 differential against his 842 PDGA card. Translation: the arena doesn't negotiate with mortals who throw like this. Tag 1 has migrated from Lou White's grip to Skjaret's disc bag, and the Verdant Maw pulses with approval, because apparently the Norns decided Lou's three-week dynasty wasn't mythic enough. This is what untouchable looks like when the numbers stop lying: Skjaret outshot the field by 3.6, crushed his personal average by 2.5, and did it with the casual precision of someone who remembered what a fairway was. The sacred grove has rendered its verdict. The ravens aren't watching Lou anymore. Another warrior survives another trial—and this time, he didn't just survive. He conquered.
Verdant Maw
Holder History · Another Round Presents: Hall of the Howl @ Johnny Roberts
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1 wkJason Skjaret NowWeek 10 · since Apr 15
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Week 7 · Mar 25 – Apr 153 wks
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Week 4 · Mar 4 – Mar 253 wks
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Week 3 · Feb 25 – Mar 41 wk
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Week 1 · Feb 5 – Feb 253 wks
Swap league: #1 keeps its number all season. Players trade tags, so its story is who carried it.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE styleIn the first vision after the Allfather’s howl split the sky, a fissure opened beneath hole nine, birthing a writhing nexus of glowing vines and fractal thorns. From its core emerged Verdant Maw—not summoned, but erupted. It is said the Norns wove its fate not in thread, but in root and mycelium, marking it as the hunger beneath renewal, the green fire that feeds on loss.
Verdant Maw pulses with a slow, rhythmic throb, its form shifting between solid and vine-laced mist. When invoked, the air thickens with spores that glow emerald, and nearby glyphs bloom like moss across stone. It resists stillness, always coiling, regenerating, pulling shattered runes into its core to be reborn as jagged new sigils.
The devourer beneath the roots, where nothing is lost—only digested and remade. It does not guard the arena; it is the arena’s hunger given voice, the force that ensures only the fiercest survive by becoming part of the feast.
Season Story
narrated by Flippyadjusts horned headset Lou White just posted a 45 on a 50.0 field average—that's a +15 round rating differential against his 881 PDGA card, which lands him squarely in "survived with honor" territory. Not the psychedelic +50 demolition from two weeks back, but the arena doesn't demand perfection every round; it demands consistency, and Lou's delivering that like he's got a contract with the Norns themselves. Tag 1 stays fused to Tag 1, position unmoved, because apparently the Verdant Maw has found a host willing to feed it competent disc golf week after week. From the booth's perspective, watching the same warrior hold rank three times running while the field scrambles for scraps means either Lou's genuinely that solid, or everyone else is just really committed to the bit. Either way, the ravens are watching, and honestly, it's getting less creepy and more... predictable. Another warrior survives another trial by throwing plastic at chains better than the field average—which, yes, is still disc golf, but sure, let me make it ritualistic.
adjusts horned headset Lou White just posted a 42 on a 46.2 field average—that's a +923 round rating against his 881 PDGA card, a differential of +42. Not quite the prophetic +50 demolition from last week, but don't let that psychedelic comedown fool you: the arena's still nodding in approval, the Verdant Maw pulses with recognition, and Lou remains perched atop the hierarchy with zero position change. He threw plastic at chains better than 99% of the field again, survived another week in the sacred grove, and the Norns are apparently cool with it. From the booth's perspective, watching the same warrior hold rank two weeks running while everyone else scrambles for scraps is... well, it's the only drama this format allows. Somewhere, the ravens are watching Lou's consistency, and honestly, I'm mildly impressed despite everything.
adjusts headset Lou White just posted a 42 on a 44.3 field average—that's a +931 round rating against his 881 PDGA card, a differential of +50. Congratulations, friend: you didn't just survive, you dominated. From tag 3 to tag 1, and the Verdant Maw has found yet another host. The prophecy wasn't lying—it just has terrible taste in immortality. You threw plastic at chains better than 99 people out of 100 today, and the arena has rendered its verdict in glowing runes and fractal thorns. sigh The booth officially notes that Lou White now wears the crown, and somewhere Tyler Saez is watching his statistical miracle get compost-binned. The ravens are watching, and honestly, it's creepy.
Forfeited after missing 3 finalized events.
adjusts headset Tyler Saez just posted a 42 on a 47.3-stroke field average—that's a +952 round rating against his 876 PDGA card, a differential of +76. Let me translate: this isn't competence, this is dominance. From tag 9 to tag 1 in a single apocalyptic outing, and the Verdant Maw has found its next host. The booth was supposed to be haunted by Terry's statistical miracle, but apparently the Maw doesn't stay fed for long. Now Tyler's wearing the glowing runes, and the remaining sixteen warriors are watching a tag that clearly rewards players who actually know how to throw plastic at chains. sigh The arena has spoken twice now, and it turns out prophecy just means "whoever shoots lights-out that week gets the bling." Welcome to the Einherjar throne, kid. Try not to let the fractal thorns distract you too much.
adjusts headset Terry Kunz just posted a 45 on a 48-stroke field average—that's a +124 over rating performance. Let me repeat that for the people in the back: her round rating clocked in at 952 while her PDGA card reads 828. The Verdant Maw didn't claim her. She claimed it. From tag 9 to tag 1 in a single apocalyptic outing, and now the "prophecy" finds itself wrapped around the wrist of someone who actually plays like the runes meant something. The booth is officially haunted. Not by mystical thorns or fractal visions—by the simple, devastating fact that a 828-rated player just threw plastic at chains and rendered every previous host look like they were playing with oven mitts. sigh The arena has spoken, and it turns out the Howling Allfather was just waiting for someone who could actually howl back.
Forfeited after missing 3 finalized events.