Timmen didn't think his retirement would include long, aimless wandering in the woods. Forty years he'd given in service to Therria, earning him a nice-enough pension and good standing among the locals. He figured making a home in the far western plains—in a quiet village tucked against the foothills of the daggers—would get him far enough from the life he left behind. All he wanted was to relax in his own home, find a woman, and live out the rest of his years in peace and quiet.

The first wrench in his plans was Robban. They had been together their entire careers in the army, and though they were friends, good friends even, Timmen wanted to separate himself from the army and everything tied to it. Robban following him to the same village made that goal feel more like a distant dream than he would've liked. 

The villagers knew who they were. They knew the stories that Timmen and Robban told. Of course that made them the first candidates to go traipsing around the forest looking for... something. Something had been causing the crops to wilt early and the livestock to fall ill more frequently. No one had any real idea what the cause might be, but surely their resident heroes could get to the bottom of it. 

Simple people, simple problems.

The townsfolk didn't need to know the reality of their time in service. For all they knew there were wars being fought in the far reaches of Therrian territory. Clearing out bandit camps and the occasional village of savage barbarians was hardly the heroics that Timmen and Robban might have let their stories suggest. Maybe they had gotten themselves into this with the... embellishments they added to their stories. Truth be told, Timmen was getting tired of keeping up with the stories.

Robban enjoyed it. He loved how the villagers looked at him as he spouted some of the nonsense that put them in these woods. The untold scores of barbarians he vanquished single-handedly, the slave armies he said he'd freed from their chains, the bandit lords he hunted himself in lands uncharted. The stories earned them their fair share of free drinks at the tavern, and more than a few nights in the company of willing admirers. Even so, in the short year they had lived in the quiet town, Timmen had started to resent Robban for the tales he spun. 

The branch snapping brought Timmen out of his own thoughts. His head turned sharply towards the noise. Generally, the locals didn't wander the woods this far from town, and whatever snapped the branch sounded larger than any rabbit or squirrel.

"Did you hear that?" Robban asked.

"Of course I heard it. I'm not old enough to be losing my ears just yet," Timmen quipped back, a touch of annoyance in his voice. Always stating the obvious.

"You don't think it's one of those farm kids messing with us, do you?"

"No. They're never out this late. Old man Harlon works them to the bone."

The sun was setting, and the cattle would need to be brought in from the fields.

"Let's just go back. Ain't seen nothing all day, and I'd rather sleep in a soft bed than try to make camp out here," Robban said, already starting to turn back around. Then another branch snapped, this time from the opposite side of where the first had come from.

Robban slowly reached for an arrow from the quiver on his back, and Timmen gripped the hilt of his sword. 

"Who's there?" Timmen asked, a calm authority in his voice.

Nothing answered but the silent trees.

"Time to go, Tim," Robban said. He completed his turn, facing back the way they had come, and saw it. 

It was the tusks that his eyes fixed on first. The largest he'd ever seen on a wild boar in these parts. But not just the tusks, the whole beast was huge. Near to Robban's own height, its eyes bored into him.

"Tim..."

Timmen turned to see what Robban was looking at, and nearly jumped backwards as he drew his sword. 

"Therric's bones, what is that thing?" he breathed.

The boars of these woods were known to be big, but this... this was a monster. Its dark fur was matted and patchy. The tusks had to be as long as one of Timmen's arms, their tips stained with a rusty sheen. This beast had made a recent kill. It pawed at the ground and huffed. This animal was not going to leave them alone. 

Robban slowly stepped back towards Timmen. The beast took a step forward to match him. Side by side, the pair gripped their weapons tighter. They had fought together before, but always against men. This was something new, but Timmen was sure they could bring it down.

At least, he was... until Robban turned and ran.

Timmen had never seen him move so quickly. The boar charged, Timmen planted his feet, bracing himself, and as Robban's footfalls faded into the trees, he swore he could see someone standing behind the monstrosity rushing toward him.