The base of the Tusk Mountains are the domain of the Swine clans: the most renowned miners in Fœnum. Swine society is proud and traditional, with loyalty to the clan and personal honor coming before all else. They are known to hold grudges when slighted, and squabble amongst each other over the most trivial offenses, but at the end of the day they are dependable in every sense of the word. With an earth-shattering strength and tenacity that defies their short stature, and their tusks as a natural digging tool, they have excavated the mineral-rich region for generations beyond memory. Their sense of smell is also legendary, adding truffles and other forage to their exports and insects for their own consumption while helping them navigate the caves
Over generations they built up the underground into a magnificent home of carved stone lit by bioluminescent mushrooms cultivated to push back the darkness. Life in the mines is full of hard labor, but they want for nothing: outsiders too lazy to put in the work call them greedy. Their underground homes were thought to be impregnable, but the arrival of predators hiding from the sun underground threatens to uproot everything they have built.
A sturdy boar smashes through rock with steel-capped tusks and hooves to get at the salt.
“This is thirsty work.” Churl spits out salt that crept in from his tusks and listens to the banging of his fellow miners at work, but before he returns to the wall he snorts at a smell.
“Oi! Anyone smell that?”
“What, forget your mud bath?” Grunting laughs sound from the miners.
“I’m serious, it smells like -”
A squeal cuts him off as a shoat runs past them, with an echoing growl following.
“Get back to the tunnel!” Churl shouts as the miners abandon their carts and run.
He counts them all to make sure everyone made it and sees a dark, towering mass running towards him.
As it rears to strike up he sees claws and teeth, but it recoils with a groan as he flings crushed salt into its face from his snout.
He makes it through the tunnels, hearing panicked squeals everywhere as piglets flee while the miners hold fast.
“That’s everyone!” Churl yells. “Cave it in!”
They send shockwaves through the ground with their tusks and flee as the entrance collapses in a deafening crash!
Something pounds on the rubble from the other side, but gives up with a deep growl.
The clan gathers outside under the sun in a chaotic scene.
“What was that thing?”
“I knew I smelled something wrong!”
“How’re we supposed to mine with that around?”
“Quiet!” Elder Granite’s voice booms. “We’ve all noticed strange smells in the cave, but did anyone actually see it?”
“I did!” Churl. “It was huge and hairy, too big for the tunnel. And it had claws - claws I tell you! And sharp teeth!”
“Claws?!”
“Like…tusk sharp?!”
Murmurs fill the air as Granite snorts for their attention again.
“If what you say is true, then we may be smelling predators in our mines. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”
“Whatever is, it’s in our mine!” Churl shouts. “We’re not going to stand for that, are we?!”
Half the crowd grunts in approval, but others stay silent and unsure.
“No!” Granite stares them down. “We don’t know the extent of the threat. For the good of the clan, we should shelter until we know more.”
“So we leave it to them?!” Churl lowers his head in challenge.
“Yes, for now!” Granite nearly locked heads with him. “It is my duty as Elder to protect the tribe, and it is not your place to risk their lives. We make for the walls of Whitil in the morning!”
Churl snorts and turns away as the clan makes camp.
Three volunteers sit at the blocked entrance to the cave in a foul mood.
“Hide with the deer?!” A sow spits. “I'd rather we take our chances.”
“You heard Granite.” A boar answers. “We need more information. Maybe the deer will help, even.”
“Ha!” Churl snorts. “Like they'd get their coats dirty there, even without the monster!”
“That's out of line.” The other boar lowers his head in a challenge. “And they also need to stop the predators.”
“Do they, though?” Churl deescalates with a raised hoof. “They've got those thick walls around them. What do they care if the mines are closed?”
The sow scowls with a look to the cave.
“I don't like it either, but it's our best bet for now.”
“Unless we handle it now.” Churl stands tall. “What do you say? We clear the mine, show it's safe, and everything's back to normal.”
“Just us three?!” The sow steps back. “You're crazy! Why not wait for more?”
“Because that's our home!” Churl waves to the cave with a tusk. “And I'd rather fight for it than beg for shelter elsewhere. I’m going: are you with me?”
The others glance at each other and stepped back.
“Then seal it again when I'm through.” Churl snorts. “Listen for my signal when it's done: but if I die, I die with honor!”
In the familiar but suddenly dangerous cave, Churl's bravado fades at the sense of foreboding, but his resolve holds firm.
His sniffs the air continuously, but finds no scent of danger beyond the one he strides to.
Shifting the rocks blocking the mine quietly is impossible, so after tumbling and breaking layers away, he sends rock and dust flying before him in a final bash he steps into the mine with a shout.
“I am Churl, boar of the Stonesplitter Tribe, and I have returned! Face me in battle, or leave and never return!”
Churl fights to keep his composure as the bear steps around the corner, hunger in its eyes.
“Give us the key, and we will leave this hole in the dirt to your tribe. Defy us, and die.”
Churl lowers his head with a growl.
“I did not come to bargain or give gifts to monsters: face me if you dare!”
All composure leaves the bear with a roar and Churl charges with a war squeal.
The bear tears the ground to send a shockwave, but Churl’s own shockwave from his tusks negates it as the caves shake!
The bear slams the ground and stalactites rain from the ceiling, but Churl is fast enough to evade them, bursting one into dust that fell in his way with his tusks!
The bear meets Churl’s charge with a shoulder tackle, but Churl braces the attack and sends him flying as he scoops his torso with his head!
The bear rights himself to swipe, but staggers back as Churl blows a cloud of dust into his eyes from his snout.
Seizing the opening, he pulls the bear’s leg out from under him with a tusk; thrashing the downed bear with tusk and hooves until its body disperses into a cloud and vanishes into the air!
Churl's victorious squeal fills the caves.
The guards jump at the sound of grunts from the cave, but quickly see a pig snout pointing through.
“Brought you a present!”
When they disperse the rocks, Churl pulls a minecart full of salt through: the racket draws the clan to surround him as Granite snorts.
“That was hasty, headstrong, and dangerous!”
Before Churl can reply, Granite bows.
“And maybe we need more of it here. All hail Churl, the Champion of the Mines!”
“All hail!”
They look to him for a speech, and he obliges.
“Then I swear to banish these invaders! Our home may be the front line against them, but we will meet our fate with honor!”
Grunts and squeals fill the air at his words.
When a whitetail finally arrives with a message from the Council of Elders, they tell them that they've already got a Champion.
Author's Note
Art commissioned from Redahfuherking / The Scornful Reptilian: I love how he draws TFH characters, and I wanted to see a TFH version of boars anyway.
