It was a warm evening in the dense coniferous forests of the hearthlands, when a young fellow, Magius , was wandering about in his new found cave. His Small log cabin was set up and his hearthfire was roaring. There were some stumps that needed to be removed this evening so the wood could be put to good use fashioning some items for his table. Our good man, Magius, stood and listened to the lovely sounds coming from his cave home as he opened his tool cupboard to grab his shovel and water flask. If he started now, perhaps he could be done before nightfall. If not, a few spare torches were laying about that could be lit when the time drew near.
Magius grabbed his shovel in both hands and proceeded to the cave exit whistling to himself and thinking of the fine forks he would whittle this evening. soon he saw the slightly dimming light of the evening and was outside.
And what do his eyes behold but a terrible sight! A large boar with tusks the size of a mans arms coming straight for him. He tried to stop, but his feet just kept moving. The boar was walking straight at him! GET AWAY! MOVE FEET, MOVE IN THE OTHER DIRECTION! "WHAT IS HAPPENING!," he tried to scream. The words did not come out. he just kept walking
Thirty meters from the entrance to his home, the boar met him head on. Oddly, they stood, walking into each other, doing what looked to be some sort of wicked forest dance. Try as he might, he just could not get away. he tried to scream for anyone in the vicinity to help, even though he knew he was all alone. The screams would not come out.
It happened so fast. The dance lasted roughly twenty seconds and at the very end images of combat flashed in front of his face. Charging and goring. It was over before it even started. Magius was dead on the ground, holding his beautifully crafted brand new shovel. Not being able to ever use it.
Goodnight Sweet Magius.
Good Night.