Season Arc · Flexing on Farm Fridays (Farmington Park DGC)
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#6Now#6Best#6Started43Weeks
Every recorded result adds another step to this tag's season story.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE style
High ConceptGranite Guardian of the Ancient Proving Grounds
TroubleTectonic Patience, Disc Golf Urgency
Quartz Veins See AllUnmovable as a MountainYour OB Shots Amuse Me
Forged in the heart of the oldest mountain, the Stone Sentinel was not built but awakened. During a great cataclysm when the sky raged with dragonfire and the earth trembled, the mountain's spirit coalesced its will into a singular form. It rose from a sheer cliff face, stone grinding against stone, to face the tumult. It did not fight, but stood firm, its silent defiance a anchor of stability. When the chaos passed, the Sentinel remained, partially merged back with the mountain but forever distinct—a testament to the land's inherent will to endure and protect its own.
The entity feels cool and impossibly dense to the touch, like a fragment of planetary core. Its surface is rough-hewn granite, shot through with veins of glittering quartz that catch the light like a thousand watching eyes. It hums with a deep, subsonic frequency felt in the bones more than heard, a vibration that speaks of tectonic patience and geologic time. It exudes an aura of profound stillness; in its immediate presence, winds seem to calm and nervous energies settle. It is heavy with purpose, not a burden, but a grounding weight that reminds the bearer of foundations and permanence.
The unblinking watcher at the threshold, the Stone Sentinel holds the line where order meets the wild. It is the fixed point in a turning world, the calm at the eye of the storm. Its role is to observe, to endure, and by its mere presence, to define a space of safety. It does not seek out conflict, but its resolve is absolute; it is the cliff that breaks the wave, the mountain that wears down the ages. To stand with the Sentinel is to become part of that enduring defense, a living component of the world's steadfast guard.
Season Story
narrated by Flippy
Forged
Forged from the mountain's own stubborn heart, the Stone Sentinel didn't ask to be a tag. It was busy being a geological fact. Now, it's been chiseled down, given a number, and told its purpose is to be traded for plastic scores. It vibrates with a low, contemptuous hum. The mountain endures; your birdie streak will not. Carry it, if you can bear the weight of its profound disappointment.
The Stone Sentinel, Tag #6, felt the first mortal hand close around it. Rick Effin Richmond’s grip was firm, a man used to commanding plastic. The tag’s subsonic hum deepened, a mountain’s sigh. It would endure this new, trivial purpose. But first, it would test the weight of this man’s will against its own ancient patience. The Culling had gained a foundation. Whether Rick could stand upon it was the first question.
Forged
Week 1
assigned #6
adjusts headset with audible resignation
Welcome back to The Culling, where signup lottery tickets mean nothing and the arena renders actual verdicts. Rick Effin Richmond entered as position zero—completely arbitrary. The Farm Awakens, and so does the Stone Sentinel's contempt.
Here's what happened: Rick threw a 51. The field averaged 61.9. That's 10.9 strokes of pure separation—the kind of gap that makes mountains smile. His personal average? Matched it exactly. Consistency, ladies and gentlemen. Boring, grounded, geological-level consistency.
checks survival board with a knowing hum
The Sentinel—tag #6—has found its anchor. This ancient, quartz-veined granite wasn't forged in some fantasy workshop; it was awakened during dragonfire and chaos, standing firm when everything trembled. Now it's in the hands of a man who throws like he's been standing still for tectonic ages himself. No flash. No drama. Just results that make the crowd's noise sound distant.
Six positions from signup lottery to actual rank? That's not movement—that's the arena sorting reality from randomness. Rick didn't climb; the field fell away beneath him. The Stone Sentinel's subsonic hum deepens. Its patience is measured in eons. His? We'll find out.
drops announcer voice
Look, he shot well. The tag knows endurance. Whether Rick does is Season 1, Week 1's opening question.
From the booth, I'm Flippy, and I've got six more weeks to watch a mountain-forged disc golfer prove whether granite patience wins in plastic's game.
See where Rick Effin Richmond sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round
