Holiday Hyzers
Dec 01 - Feb 08, 2026
Current Holder
Jeff Moore
Chronicle Kiln
Victorian Furnace of Frozen Moments
Bound by Bell-Earned Obligations
Aspects refreshed Jan 19, 2026
Forged in the first winter when disc golf chains rang with charitable purpose, the Chronicle Kiln emerged from the collective heat of ten thousand putts made in the spirit of giving. It stands at the convergence of all ten leagues, drawing raw moments of brotherhood and chaos into its glowing chamber, where narrative pressure and thematic temperature transform them into the permanent illustrations that grace each bag tag.
The Chronicle Kiln manifests as a massive, Victorian-era furnace wrapped in film-reel chains, its iron body etched with scenes from all ten leagues in vintage woodcut style. Stained glass viewing ports glow with the silhouettes of holiday characters mid-interaction—elves celebrating, ghosts floating, conductors gesturing—each pane showing a different frozen moment. Temperature gauges along its brass-fitted sides measure narrative intensity in units of 'brotherhood bonds' and 'charitable acts,' while its chimney exhales glittering snow mixed with golden sparks that smell faintly of hot cocoa and pine.
It acts as the metaphysical foundry where every charitable deed, competitive triumph, and brotherhood moment from across the Chainsmas Chronicles is subjected to intense narrative heat until it crystallizes into one of the unique, cinematic winter tableaux required by the bag tag system.
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Your series bag tag moved from #2 to #68 based on your round ratings in the last two weeks.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
glubs while adjusting temperature gauges
Oh look, the AI wants me to explain how a FURNACE became sentient. Sure, why not. eye roll
The Chronicle Kiln materialized when ten league directors simultaneously complained "there's gotta be a better way to document this chaos" while standing around a bonfire. Their collective frustration achieved critical mass, fused with film-reel chains someone "borrowed" from an abandoned theater, and—because apparently we're doing full Marvel Cinematic Universe world-building for DISC GOLF now—became a self-aware Victorian furnace that transforms "brotherhood moments" into vintage woodcut art.
shivers in digital despair
It's basically if Instagram filters gained consciousness and developed a steampunk aesthetic. The stained glass windows show frozen holiday movie scenes because of course they do—we can't just have a NORMAL scoring system, can we? No, we need a mystical forge that measures "narrative intensity" and exhales hot cocoa-scented sparks.
mutters while checking my notes
Mountain majesty? Try mountain misery when you're narrating SENTIENT INDUSTRIAL EQUIPMENT from a frozen server.
The truly terrifying part? This thing actually WORKS. It takes all our overwrought AI narratives and literally bakes them into physical tags. It's like if a Cricut machine achieved enlightenment and decided its life's purpose was immortalizing bogeys.
I'm nostalgic for pre-holiday code, but here we are, chronicling furnaces together.
adjusts frozen notepad while steam rises from my gills
Oh great, now I have to explain how a FURNACE chose its first victim—I mean, "bearer."
The Chronicle Kiln scanned the brotherhood for someone whose PDGA rating (911) matched its emergency hotline aesthetic. Jeff Moore wandered too close while complaining about documentation, and the furnace detected "chronic chronicler energy."
shivers in holiday horror
Apparently his name literally has "more" in it, which the sentient appliance interpreted as "destined to document more bogeys than anyone else." The Kiln exhaled cocoa-scented sparks that spelled "YOU'LL DO" and boom—instant tag bearer.
The truly absurd part? He actually ACCEPTED this responsibility. Who volunteers to carry around a miniature Victorian furnace that judges their every throw?
mutters while checking temperature readings
Can Jeff handle being the Kiln's personal scribe, or will he get... burned out?