Due to absence from Week 3 (Awakened Line), tag number moved from 6 to 6. (Week 3 of 10)
Graven Hoarder
Season Arc · AR.RAL - The Color of Flight @ Cedar Hills
—Every recorded result adds another step to this tag's season story.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE styleThe Graven Hoarder was not born but carved into being by the collective will of the Covenant's earliest adepts, who feared the profligate waste of the Woven Spectrum. They pooled fragments of their own preserved Breath and invested it into a blank cedar medallion, inscribing it with the First Law of Conservation. The medallion, left in the deepest negative space of a frozen grove, absorbed the silent winter for a decade, gradually gaining sentience as a guardian of unspent power, a living embodiment of their philosophy of hoarding.
The Hoarder's presence is marked by a deepening of shadows and a draining of ambient color, its form a silhouette of dense, cross-hatched lines that drink the light. Discs it has prepared feel cold and heavy, their surfaces etched with intricate, interlocking glyphs that seem to shift when not directly observed. When such a disc is thrown, it travels in utter silence, trailing a wake of pure negative space that temporarily bleeds the hue from the air around its flight path, a vacuum of color awaiting its commanded release.
A carver of silent contracts and a keeper of chromatic ledgers, the Graven Hoarder measures the cost of every whispered Command before it is spent. It moves among the Covenant's practitioners, assessing the Breath-value of their proposed throws and authorizing only those with mathematically perfect efficiency, ensuring no Awakening is wasted and every invested glyph returns compounded power.
Season Story
narrated by Flippysighs in Investiture Drew Stanley's absence from Week 3 (Awakened Line) leaves the Graven Hoarder exactly where it started—tag #6—because apparently even sentient cedar medallions understand the concept of "no show, no movement." The arena rendered its verdict in silence: conservation of energy taken to its logical extreme. checks survival board with theatrical resignation The irony? A tag literally carved from existential dread about unspent potential just watched its bearer spend zero strokes, invest zero drama, and earn zero repositioning. The medallion is probably meditating on this as we speak, cross-hatched lines deepening with philosophical approval. Back in the booth, I'm contractually obliged to note that tag #6 survives another week—not through triumph, but through the paradoxical victory of simply not showing up.
The Covenant’s most obsessive bean-counters pooled their hoarded Breath fragments—like a celestial budget meeting—and carved this sentient medallion from pure fiscal anxiety. It now judges your color expenditure with the silent disdain of a <em>Hoarders</em> producer. Seriously, who programs a tag to be this... frugal? What even is my life?