The jungle was thick with shadows, the canopy overhead so dense that sunlight barely filtered through, casting everything in an eerie green gloom. The dwarves moved as one, their senses honed by centuries of survival in the harshest conditions. They had faced many dangers before, but none quite like this. The Boar King was a force of nature, a living battering ram, a beast so massive that it seemed to belong to a time long forgotten.
Nainn, Nar, Nali, Buinn, and Gwenbelle had been traveling for days, the weight of their mission pressing down on them like the oppressive heat of the jungle. The ancient outpost of Stonehearth lay somewhere ahead, its exact location lost to time, but they knew they were close. The air had grown thicker, the underbrush denser, and the sounds of the jungle had taken on a more ominous tone. They could feel the presence of the Boar King long before they saw it—the way the smaller creatures of the jungle went silent, the sudden stillness that preceded a storm.
The attack came without warning. One moment they were pushing through a tangle of vines, the next, the earth was shaking, and trees were toppling like matchsticks. The Boar King erupted from the jungle, a creature of nightmare made flesh. Its tusks were as long as a dwarf was tall, curved and sharp, capable of goring through armor as if it were paper. Its hide was thick and rough, a patchwork of scars from battles won long ago, and its eyes glowed with an intelligence that was as terrifying as its brute strength.
Nali was the first to react. He shouted for the others to scatter, his voice carrying over the roar of the beast. The dwarves obeyed instinctively, each moving in a different direction, hoping to confuse the creature and buy themselves some time. Nainn, ever the warrior, knew he couldn't outrun the Boar King—not in his current state. His shield arm was shattered, hanging uselessly at his side, and his body was battered from the initial impact. But he was a dwarf, and dwarves did not flee from battle.
He veered off to the side, using the thick trees as cover, his good hand gripping his axe tightly. The Boar King followed, its bulk crashing through the trees as if they were made of straw. Nainn waited until the beast was almost upon him, then swung his axe with all the strength he had left. The blade struck the Boar King's leg, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Nainn thought he might have done some damage. But the axe merely glanced off, as if striking stone. The realization hit him like a cold wave—this was no ordinary beast. Its hide was harder than the finest dwarven steel, and his axe, formidable as it was, could do little more than scratch it. Its hide was tougher than steel, impervious to their weapons. The futility of the fight gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. There was no room for despair in battle.
Gwenbelle was running parallel to the Boar King, her crossbow loaded and ready. She fired a bolt at the creature's flank, aiming for a gap in its armor-like hide. The bolt struck true, embedding itself in the beast's side, but the Boar King barely seemed to notice. It shook off the attack with a low growl, its focus still on Nainn. Gwenbelle cursed under her breath as she reloaded, her hands moving with practiced speed. She fired again, this time aiming for the beast's eye, but the shot went wide as she was forced to duck under a low-hanging branch.
Nali, the quickest and most agile of the three, was cutting a path through the dense underbrush, his daggers flashing as he slashed at the vines. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. The jungle was a labyrinth, and every turn seemed to lead them deeper into the beast's territory. He could hear the Boar King's roars, the sound of trees splintering as it pursued them. But he also knew that they couldn't outrun it—not forever.
He glanced back at Buinn, who was struggling to keep up, fear etched on his young face. Nali's heart ached for the lad. He was no warrior, just a keeper of lore, thrust into a situation he was never meant to face. Nali knew he had to get Buinn out of here, even if it meant sacrificing himself. His mind raced through the possibilities, the only clear path lying ahead. They had to reach the outpost, or at least somewhere the beast wouldn't follow.
Nar, ever the resourceful one, picked up a handful of stones from the ground and began hurling them at the Boar King. It was a futile effort, but it was all he could do to distract the beast, even for a moment. One stone struck the Boar King's snout, causing it to snort in annoyance, but it only seemed to anger the creature further. The Boar King turned its gaze on Nar, its eyes glowing with a dangerous intelligence. It charged, and Nar barely had time to throw himself out of the way as the beast barreled past him, its tusks gouging deep furrows in the earth.
He could feel the ground shake as the Boar King charged again, this time turning its full attention toward him. Nar's heart leapt into his throat, but he stood his ground. He wasn't going to run, not now, not ever. He threw another stone, this one aimed directly at the beast's eye. It hit its mark, but the Boar King only snorted in irritation, its massive head swinging toward him with a terrifying focus.
The air was thick with the scent of earth and blood, the humid heat pressing down on them like a smothering hand. Nainn, Nar, and Nali moved through the jungle with the practiced coordination of seasoned warriors, each step taken with purpose, each movement calculated. They had faced countless dangers in their time, but the Boar King was unlike anything they had ever encountered. The beast was more than just a creature of flesh and bone—it was an embodiment of the wild itself, a force that could not be tamed or reasoned with.
Nainn was at the rear, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he led the retreat. His shield arm hung uselessly at his side, shattered by the Boar King's initial charge. The pain was immense, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. His mind raced with calculations, strategies, and all of them ended in the same grim conclusion: they would not survive this encounter unless they managed to slow the beast down.
He glanced at Nar and Nali, who were keeping pace, their faces set in grim determination. They were his brothers in all but blood, warriors he had fought beside for years. He could see the same understanding in their eyes—the silent acknowledgment that they might not make it out of this jungle alive.
Nainn, his breath coming in labored gasps, moved with the relentless determination that had seen him through countless battles. His shield arm hung useless at his side, shattered by the Boar King's first charge, but his axe was still in his good hand, the weight of it a familiar comfort even in this nightmare. The jungle closed in around them, the towering trees and dense undergrowth offering little refuge from the beast that pursued them.
Buinn, the young lorekeeper, was stumbling through the brush ahead of him, his eyes wide with fear, clutching his scrolls and staff as if they were the last links to a world that made sense. Nainn could see the panic in the boy's movements, the way he wasn't watching where he was going, just running blindly through the jungle. The Boar King's roars echoed through the trees, each one a promise of death.
"Buinn!" Nainn shouted, trying to snap the boy out of his terror, but the lorekeeper didn't hear him. The ground trembled as the Boar King charged again, its massive form smashing through trees and underbrush like a living avalanche. Nainn's heart pounded in his chest, not from fear, but from the grim realization that Buinn was about to be trampled, oblivious to the danger barreling down on him.
In that moment, Nainn acted without thinking. He threw himself behind Buinn, placing his body between the boy and the oncoming monster. The Boar King's tusk was a gleaming curve of death, and Nainn knew there was no time to move the boy out of the way. He raised his axe, bracing himself for the impact, and swung with all the strength he had left, aiming to deflect the tusk.
The force of the collision was like a mountain falling on him. The axe bit into the tusk, but it wasn't enough to stop the beast's momentum. Nainn felt the sharp pain of the tusk impaling him, driving through his side with a sickening crunch. He was lifted off his feet, hanging helplessly as the Boar King shook its massive head, trying to dislodge him.
Blood poured from the wound, soaking his tunic, but Nainn held on, his teeth gritted against the pain. The world blurred around him, the jungle a whirl of green and brown as the Boar King thrashed. He knew he didn't have long—his life was bleeding out of him with every passing second—but he wasn't done yet.
With a last surge of strength, Nainn tightened his grip on the axe and swung again, this time with all the fury of a dying man. The blade bit deep into the tusk, finding a weak point in the bone. He heard the crack before he felt it, a jagged sound that reverberated through his body. The tusk broke with a splintering snap, and the Boar King roared in pain, a sound that shook the very ground beneath them.
The beast flung its head violently, and Nainn was thrown from the tusk, his body hitting the ground with a bone-jarring thud. He lay there, gasping for breath, his vision fading as darkness closed in. The Boar King staggered, its balance thrown off by the loss of its tusk, and Nainn took grim satisfaction in the pain he had caused it. He had given the others a chance, however small, to escape.
His thoughts drifted to his brothers, Nar and Nali, and to Gwenbelle and Buinn. He had done what he could, protected the boy as best as he was able. As his vision dimmed, Nainn felt a strange peace settle over him. He had lived and fought as a dwarf should, with courage and honor, and he would die the same way.
Nali hacked away at the thick vines with his dagger, each stroke fueled by the mounting desperation that gnawed at his insides. His heart pounded in his chest, and sweat dripped down his brow as he carved a path through the dense jungle. Every cut brought them closer to some form of salvation—or so he prayed. With one final slash, the vines fell away, revealing a sight that made his breath catch in his throat.
Beyond the towering trees and tangled underbrush, a structure hovered above the ground, suspended like a vision from another world. It was a floating village, something out of myth or dream, with wooden platforms and buildings hanging in the air, defying the very laws of nature. The sight filled Nali with a flicker of hope, a rare thing in this gods forsaken jungle.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency as he turned to Gwenbelle, who was supporting the injured Buinn. "Get to that floating stuctures! It's our only chance!"
Gwenbelle hesitated, her heart torn between staying and fleeing. She had fought alongside Nainn and Nar for years; they were her brothers in arms. But Nali's fierce command left no room for argument. She tightened her grip on Buinn, who was barely conscious, and began to move as fast as she could, the weight of her companion slowing her down., her crossbow at the ready. They broke through the tree line, and there it was—the floating a structure out of place, hovering above the jungle like a beacon of hope.
But Nali had no time to ensure they made it. His attention snapped back to Nar, who was locked in a desperate struggle with the Boar King. The massive beast, a towering juggernaut of muscle and fury, had been driven into a rage by Nainn's defiant final act. Nar, his face twisted in grief and rage, was doing everything he could to keep the boar's attention, striking at it with a fury born of loss. But the beast was relentless, and for every blow Nar landed, the boar retaliated with even greater force.
"NAR!" Nali roared, racing toward his fellow warrior. "We need to fall back! NOW!"
But Nar, blinded by his grief for Nainn, fought on with a reckless abandon that bordered on madness. His strikes were wild, unfocused, his heart guiding his hand more than his mind. Nali could see it in his eyes—Nar was ready to die here, to avenge Nainn, even if it meant his own death.
Before Nali could reach him, the Boar King charged, its tusks gleaming like curved blades in the dappled light. Nar tried to dodge, but the beast was too fast, too powerful. It slammed into him with the force of a mountain, sending him flying through the air like a ragdoll. He landed with a sickening thud, the life already fading from his broken body as the boar trampled him beneath its massive hooves.
Nali's heart shattered, but there was no time to grieve. With a battle cry that echoed through the jungle, he leaped onto the back of the Boar King, clinging to its bristling hide as the beast thrashed and bucked beneath him. His hands found purchase in the thick fur, and with all the strength he could muster, he drove his dagger into the creature's eye. The boar let out a deafening roar of pain, the sound reverberating through the trees, shaking the very earth beneath them.
But the victory was short-lived. The Boar King, now half-blind and even more enraged, twisted violently, throwing Nali from its back. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Dazed, he tried to rise, but the beast was upon him in an instant. Its massive head swung down, smashing into Nali with the force of a battering ram.
Nali felt his bones shatter, his body crumpling beneath the weight of the blow. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision, but even as he lay dying, a fierce pride burned in his chest. He had fought to his last breath, had wounded the beast that had taken his brothers. He had done his duty.
As the Boar King lifted its head and roared in triumph, Nali's last thoughts were of Gwenbelle and Buinn, of the floating village that now seemed so impossibly far away. He prayed they would make it, that his sacrifice—and the sacrifices of Nainn and Nar—would not be in vain. And then, with a final exhale, the darkness claimed him.
Gwenbelle and Buinn reached the edge of the clearing, the floating structure looming above them. They could see movement on the platforms, figures darting back and forth. It was their only hope. Gwenbelle fired another bolt at the Boar King, her last, before She stumbled, almost dragging the boy down with her, but the golem figures were there in an instant. Their metal arms wrapped around the pair, lifting them effortlessly from the ground as the boar closed in.
As they get lifted up by the golem, they heard a roar of pain and anger. Gwenbelle looked back and saw Nali, bloodied but unbowed, standing his ground as the Boar King charged once more. She wanted to shout, to tell him to run, but the words caught in her throat. Nali met the beast head-on, his daggers flashing as he struck at its eyes. The Boar King bellowed in rage, its tusks driving into Nali with a sickening crunch. Nali fell, his body broken, but his spirit unyielding.