“What hunters abandoned, the forest remembered.”

There was once a winter when the hunters took more than the Elderwilds could replace. Stags were felled for their antlers. Boars taken for their meat. What held value was carried home, while bone, hide, and unwanted remains were left abandoned beneath the trees.

The forest did not let them go to waste.
Something beneath the roots began to gather what had been left behind. Bone found bone. Instinct found instinct. The stubborn fury of the boar became its strength, while the vigilance of the stag became its watchfulness. From what remained arose the Swine-Horn.

Neither living beast nor wandering corpse, the Swine-Horn appears wherever the balance between taking and giving has been broken. Black rot seeps from between its bones and clings to its body, leaving dark traces upon the places through which it treads. Animals grow silent at its approach, and even the insects are said to disappear from its path.

Despite the stories told of it, the Swine-Horn is no mindless predator. It pays no mind to the hunter who takes only what is needed, nor the traveler who respects the land. It's attention however, falls upon those who take without purpose, destroy without thought, and leaves behind what they have killed as though it held no value. Old Keepers therefore regard an encounter with the Swine-Horn not as an omen of death, but as a warning.

"Take only what you need. Honor what you take, and waste nothing beneath the trees."

For what hunters abandoned, the forest remembered.