Old Tuskgutter he is called. An gnarled beast of a boar, older than any others have seen, tough and ill tempered. That is the reputation. Some think he is a WerePig or a Warg of Pork – a beast controlled by a hermit or with the intelligence and brutality of an ancient Tiger Barbarian trapped inside.
But Tuskgutter doesn’t think that is true. He is just a boar, and just wants to eat well and be left alone. Why must these two-legged beasts, hiding in the pelts of wolf, deer, and bear get in his way? If they would just stop throwing their wooden teeth and swinging their metal claws at him he wouldn’t have to kill them so often… they do taste good after laying lifeless for a few days, though. Still, he would choose what other rot lays around the marsh floors – there is plenty of it for all, and less fighting to get it.
When last the Adventurers where at Oleg’s, trading stories of guts and glory, the tale of Old Tuskgutter reaches them from an boar hunter – a man with a limp and scars on his face. “The gray faced board is feared more’en any other monster in the marshes, ‘far as I’m concerned. Attacked me from no-where he did! My spear buried deep in his flank, but did naught to slow ’em down! He is a monster, a beast, an evil god sent to kill us!” The young man’s companions laugh him down, and make fun of him for being bested by a pig.
But now the companions are not so sure. Viceak leads the group to a small animal lair, covered with branches, detritus, and dirt, scattered with animal bones. “Some of the bones are undeniably human” says Viceak. “And this is undoubtedly a boar’s den – a particularly large boar’s den.”
“Why do they come at me! Why must they invade my home!” Tuskgutter could not take the taunting, so out he came, outraged at the invasion. Charging one then another of the two-legged monsters, but whichever way he turned another bit him from behind. These man-beast bit harder than most, more often, and came in numbers. “Let me be!” cried the old boar as he tried to escape into the marshes. When he was young the deep cover and muck of the wet places always did well to stop his enemies from pursuing.
The wild board thrashed about then made a break for the muck behind the den, but Viceak was quicker, and the boar did not escape. Safe, now, that yet another beast of the Stolen Lands is taken down, and the world is that much safer.