I treated myself with some extra sleep in the morning, having collapsed late the previous night. By midday, hunger pangs dragged me from the cave, so I grabbed my spears and my knife and made my way down to the river where I washed myself and gorged on ripe berries growing along the banks. Their tangy sweetness burst in my mouth, and I allowed myself a moment of indulgence.
As I scouted the area, I spotted a few vines hanging from trees that I’d missed during my first pass through the area. I sliced them down with my shoddy plasteel knife and bundled them together for later. The knife wasn’t perfect. It felt slightly awkward in my hands. But the blade was sharp enough and I made quick work of the vines.
I carefully wound the vines around my spears, binding them all tightly together and giving me an easy way to carry everything. Another length of vine became a strap for my knife which I tucked into the waistband of my shitty loincloth. With everything ready, I set off into the forest.
My feet took me along the familiar riverbank, back towards where I had last encountered the Dreadboar. I knew that if I simply followed the river, I’d eventually get to where I was going.
The forest was eerily still and quiet as I walked, the usual sound of wildlife had grown conspicuously absent. Every rustle of leaves or snap of twigs put me on edge. But as the hours passed and nothing came charging out at me from the woods, I slowly let the tension drift out of me.
Honestly, there wasn’t really a good reason for me to want to hunt down the Dreadboar. It was a massive, hulking beast with weapons still embedded in its hide from past battles. I doubted that my makeshift spears would even hurt it. Logic dictated that I should stay as far away from the creature. But a small voice in the back of my head was pushing me towards the confrontation. I found myself leaning into that voice, letting it guide me deeper into the forest, towards whatever awaited me.
After a half a day of walking, I finally reached the spot where I’d fought the Dreadboar. The ground was still torn up from our “battle.” You couldn’t even really call it a battle – more a short, desperate fight for survival. I had chucked a rock at it, it slashed a hole in my side, I retreated with my tail between my legs. As I looked around, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease wash over me. Was I ready to fight this creature? Was I an idiot for willingly coming back to the site of where I’d almost died?
I found and followed the tracks of the boar, easily distinguishable in the mud of the riverbank. They were freakishly massive and led deeper into the forest, away from the river. The trail was wide and easy to follow, and with each step I took, my heart began to pound faster in my chest. Every step I took had me glancing around at the terrain, thinking the Dreadboar could be hiding behind any of the trees or bushes, waiting to strike at me.
As I followed the trail deeper into the forest, I noticed more signs of the Dreadboar’s presence. Large, deep holes dotted the ground where it had dug for roots or grubs. Tree trunks were gouged, marked, and uprooted with deep grooves where it used its tusks. The air carried a faint, musky scent that I was sure came from the creature.
The trail eventually led me to a clearing dominated by a massive tree, its gnarled roots spreading out like the fingers of a giants hand. The ground around the tree was churned up, as if a giant machine had tilled the earth. This was recent – evidence that the Dreadboar had passed through here not long ago. The clearing was probably used as a path between its den and a source of fresh water. I quickly ran through my options on how to face down the boar. It was massive, strong, fast, and vicious. My only chance was to get to high ground and try to pick it off from there.
The tree in the clearing seemed my best bet. I scrambled up its thick trunk, my fingers gripping the rough bark as I climbed. Once I reached a sturdy set of branches that overlooked the clearing, I settled into position, trying to control my breathing and steady my nerves.
The beast emerged from the treeline after an hour or so, its massive form plowing through the bushes as it strode forward. I scanned it with the codex, re-reading the description it gave me.
[Dreadboar]
The Dreadboar is a formidable and fearsome wild hog that is native to this world. Standing nearly four feet tall at the shoulder and weighing upwards of 500 pounds, its muscular frame is covered in coarse, bristly fur ranging from dark brown to jet black. Its small eyes glint with a malevolent intelligence. Among the older denizens of the Dreadboar population are those that have collected numerous spears, kives, and other primitive weapons that have been embedded in its tough hide. These crude weapons, remnants of past encounters with predators and unlucky adventurers, jut out at odd angles, giving the older Dreadboar’s a nightmarish, almost armored look.
A surge of fear and adrenaline crawled up my spine as I locked eyes on the beast below. It was far worse than I remembered. Its bristling fur leant it an aura of pure menace, its massive tusks curved and gleamed like deadly scythes, and its eyes glowed with a feral intelligence that made my blood run cold. As I perched in the tree, I couldn’t shake the memory of the deep gash it had left in my side, or the wounds it opened on my legs during our last encounter.
The Dreadboar stopped in the middle of the clearing, sniffing the air, its nostrils flaring as it tested the breeze for any hint of danger. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as the beast’s eyes swept the forest. Had it sensed me? Did it know I was here? It didn’t look up at the tree where I was hiding, so I figured it probably didn’t know where I was. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and prepared to strike.
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Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I hurled my spear at the Dreadboar. The best way to describe the flight path was…unsteady. It was like a drunkard stumbling through the night, twisting and turning in an uncoordinated mess before falling to the ground in defeat. It was such a bad throw that it seemed to defy the laws of physics as it wobbled through the air, chaotic in its flight path. I couldn’t tell if the wind had caught it, or if the warped wood of the shaft had made it fly crooked, or if spear throwing simply took a lot more skill than I possessed. All I can say is that my spear fell far short of the boar. By like, fifteen feet. It lodged in the freshly tilled soil and announced my presence.
The Dreadboar’s attention snapped to the spear, then it twisted its massive head to look up at me in the tree. For a moment, it almost seemed to pause in disbelief, its gaze giving off the impression it wasn’t impressed. Then, it roared a challenge and charged. The ground shook beneath its powerful strides and I could feel the reverberations from up in my tree. I grabbed my second spear and prepared to throw, hoping this one would be a lot better than my previous attempt. I chucked it and my spear found its mark, piercing the Dreadboar’s shoulder, joining the weapons that were already embedded in the beast’s tough hide. Blood spurted from the wound, but the creature kept coming, seemingly unfazed by the injury. Its tusks gleamed menacingly as it closed the distance between us.
I only the one spear left, and I started to realize that I’d screwed myself by parking in a tree with no clear avenue of retreat and a massive beast staring me down. If it was possible to kill the Dreadboar with spears alone, it wouldn’t have so many weapons sticking out of its hide. I’d been a fool.
The Dreadboar barreled into the base of the tree with a deafening crunch, and the whole trunk shuddered violently at the impact. I clung to the branches with white-knuckle desperation, my heart hammering in my chest as the shockwaves rattled through the wood. I barely kept hold of my spear as fear and adrenaline coursed through my body.
The beast backed up, its hooves kicking up clods of dirt and grass as it prepared to charge again. I could feel the ground trembling beneath me as I braced myself against the steady tree trunk. The impact was like a battering ram, the force of the creature’s massive weight sending shockwaves through the tree. The wood cracked and groaned, protesting against the relentless onslaught. With a sickening lurch, the tree began to fall. I held on for dear life as the ground rushed up to meet me. The impact was brutal, knocking the wind out of my lungs and leaving me gasping for air.
Pain radiated through every inch of my body as I struggled to catch my breath and make sense of what had just happened. The gash in my side had probably reopened. I couldn’t take the time to check because, in a flash, the Dreadboar was bearing down on me.
Desperation and adrenaline fueled me as I dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding being gored. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my last spear, knowing it was my only chance. The beast wheeled around, and I jabbed the spear at its face, aiming for its eyes. Just like the last time we faced each other, the Dreadboar shrugged off the branch I struck it with. A single twist of its massive head and my third – and final – spear was shattered.
The Dreadboar’s massive body was a blur of black fur as it charged toward me, its tucked snout aimed directly at my chest. My vision swam with panic, the trees and forest around me a chaotic blur as I flung myself to the side. Sharp sticks and rocks from the forest floor scraped across my skin as I rolled and came up on one knee, holding the plasteel knife I’d tied to my loincloth. I was lucky it hadn’t been dislodged in my fall from the tree.
With knife in hand, I was kicking myself for not having made another spear, dreading the thought of facing off against this giant beast with only a crude blade. But then, I remembered something – I did have another weapon.
The drunken travesty of a throw that had set off this whole fight had seen my spear travel only a few feet from where I stood. There was the minor problem of having a massive, enraged boar standing between me and the spear, but I could figure a way around that. If I could make my way back to the spear, I’d have something with reach that might be enough to hurt the beast.
The Dreadboar snorted and I swear I could see its breath steaming into the air. It pawed the ground, preparing for another charge as I braced myself.
With a thunderous roar, the beast charged at me. Its muscles rippled under its coarse fur, and it was all I could do to dodge to the side again. I felt the rush of air as the Dreadboar barreled past me. With quick reflexes, I swung my knife out and caught the boar in its hind leg. It let out a pained squeal as it wheeled around to face me again, but I was already running.
I shoved the knife’s handle between my teeth, biting down on the wood as I ran, and reached the spear just as the Dreadboar charged again. My hand gripped the wooden shaft as I spun around, jabbing the pointed end towards the creature’s face. The plasteel spearpoint found its mark, one of the boar’s eyes, and the force of the charging beast helped drive the spear deep into its skull. I’d like to say it was skill that allowed me to make such a devastating attack, but I’d honestly have to put it down more to luck.
The impact of our collision nearly wrenched the spear from my hands, but I held on tightly, twisting the shaft to inflict as much damage as possible. The Dreadboar roared in agony, its charge faltering as it tried to shake the spear loose. Blood spurted from the wound, spraying across the forest floor. Despite having a spear embedded in its eye socket, the beast refused to go down. It swung its head wildly, its tusks coming dangerously close to my face.
I dodged the deadly swipes of the tusks as best I could, my arms screaming in protest as I struggled to hold onto the spear. I knew I couldn’t keep it up for much longer. My strength was fading, and the Dreadboar was a force of nature, relentless and unforgiving.
Desperation clawed at my mind as I searched for a way to end the fight. I grabbed the knife in one hand, released the spear, and lunged at the Dreadboar. Grabbing a chunk of its bristling fur, I used the beast’s own momentum to swing myself up on its back. The Dreadboar bucked and thrashed, trying to throw me off, but I used the last of my strength to hold on. It was like trying to grab onto a hurricane: a wild and untamed force that threatened to rip me apart at any moment.
With one hand buried in the Dreadboar’s fur, I raised the knife in the other and started slamming it down on the creature’s tough hide. The beast roared and twisted beneath me, nearly throwing me off with its frantic movements. But instead, I let out a primal scream of my own and drove the blade deep into the beast’s neck. Its body convulsed violently, and I kept punching the creature with my knife until the handle snapped and the blade lodged itself in the tough hide.
The Dreadboar let out a final ear-splitting bellow, and then went still. It slumped to the side, its weight crashing to the forest floor with an earth-shaking thud. I stayed there, perched on the back of the fallen beast, panting heavily. The entire forest was eerily silent, the echoes of the battle fading into the distance. I slowly climbed off the Dreadboar, my legs trembling with exhaustion, and looked down at the creature.
I was covered in sweat and blood – some mine, some the Dreadboar’s – and my hands shook with excess adrenaline. The gash the creature had given me several days ago had reopened, and I leaked blood out on the forest floor. But I was alive. I had survived. I had killed the beast.
I clenched every muscle I could, threw my hands out wide, and let out a roar that reverberated through the forest. Relief battled with adrenaline before quickly being replaced by exhaustion, and I collapsed to the ground, my limbs trembling from exertion.
I lay there on the forest floor, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. The adrenaline that had been coursing through my body was starting to fade, leaving me feeling drained and spent. I finally pulled myself up to a seated position, leaning against the massive body of the Dreadboar, and just sat there for a moment, enjoying the fact that I was still alive.