If I ever write a book called Things They Don't Tell You About Guild Leadership, chapter one will be about boars.
Specifically: that some of them can scream.
Not oink. Not squeal.
Scream.
The Silverpine Ridge challenge was supposed to be a warm-up. A fun, team-building dungeon crawl through a poisoned forest filled with hostile flora, overly aggressive rodents, and one rather large, enchanted boar named Grithok the Maw.
We came for Guild XP and loot.
We left with trauma.
But let's rewind a bit.
We entered Silverpine Ridge around sunset. The whole forest had this eerie amber glow — golden mist curling between tree trunks, long shadows stretching like claws across the undergrowth. The game devs really leaned into the "haunted fairytale" vibe here.
Brutus cracked his knuckles as we passed the zone marker. "Alright. I've read the wiki. I'm ready to tank the trees."
"You won't be tanking trees," I said. "The real danger here is poison spores and fear stuns."
He stopped walking. "Fear stuns?"
"Yep."
"Can I tank that?"
"Nope."
He stared ahead, then sighed. "Cool cool cool."
Aiko moved ahead, already checking traps. "The path splits up ahead. I say we go left."
"That's the wrong way," Sera said without looking up from her UI.
"How do you know?"
"Because it's the wrong way."
I raised a hand. "Let's stick to the right trail. It leads past the Ruined Grove and puts us closer to Grithok's den."
Aiko looked like she wanted to argue, but shrugged. "Fine. Lead on, Cap'n."
We pushed forward.
The mobs started light — venom rabbits, root tanglers, a couple of angry hornets with too much health and not enough brains. We moved smoothly, even cracking a few jokes between encounters.
Aiko backstabbed a root tangler so hard it glitched through a tree. "Someone clip that. That's art."
Brutus accidentally taunted a hornet nest and yelled, "I regret everything!" before Sera burned them down with an AoE.
And me? I was starting to feel it. That groove. That quiet magic when a party starts syncing up. Timing gets tighter. Callouts sharper. You start trusting the people behind the avatars — even if they're weird, silent, or allergic to potions (looking at you, Aiko).
Then we reached the Grove.
It was exactly as I remembered: a wide, open glade with a cracked fountain in the center and tall grass that whispered when there was no wind.
I stopped our group just before the tree line.
"Okay," I said. "This is it. Grithok's den is just past that fountain. Once we step in, it triggers the aggro phase."
Brutus nodded. "Game plan?"
"I kite him left, Aiko flanks from the right, Sera handles interrupts. Brutus, you hold center and taunt when he charges. If he starts screaming, pop your shield skill and brace."
Aiko raised a hand. "Sorry — screaming?"
I sighed. "Yes. The boar screams."
"Like… loud?"
"No, like it causes fear and shatters coordination."
Sera muttered, "Sounds like most of my group chats."
We stepped into the clearing.
And there he was.
Grithok the Maw.
Twelve feet of pig muscle, jagged tusks, glowing red eyes, and hooves that cracked the ground when he stepped. Steam hissed from his nostrils like a demonic tea kettle, and a rune-crusted collar glowed faintly around his thick neck.
"Wow," Brutus whispered. "That's not bacon. That's a whole smokehouse."
Then he charged.
I fired the first bolt, tagging him with a slow debuff. Aiko zipped off to the right, vanishing into stealth, while Brutus raised his shield and let out a shout that echoed like a lion trying to cough.
Sera planted her feet and started casting. Her spells looked different now — cleaner, faster. She was experimenting with chaining freeze effects into slow burns, and it worked beautifully.
Then Grithok screamed.
It wasn't a normal sound.
It was a digital nightmare — a guttural roar mixed with war horns and static, like someone had recorded a banshee getting punched through a radio.
All of us froze.
Not in the game sense. I mean mentally. Our screens shook. Our movement blurred. And in those few seconds, Grithok barreled straight through Brutus like a meat battering ram and slammed into me.
My health dropped by 70%.
I teleported backward on instinct, gulped a potion, and yelled, "Brutus! Where's your shield?!"
"It broke!"
"HOW?!"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
Sera was the first to recover. She hit Grithok with a burst chain that staggered him just long enough for Aiko to reappear behind him and jam a dagger into his flank.
Brutus stumbled forward, holding a new shield he yanked from his inventory. "This one's wooden! We're gonna die!"
"Then die with dignity!" Aiko shouted.
I rallied, chaining three spells together: Arcane Shatter > Fire Pulse > Chain Spark.
Grithok buckled.
Aiko followed up with a bleed combo. Sera dropped a frost ring at his hooves. Brutus — bless his soul — threw himself into every charge, even when his HP dropped to single digits.
It wasn't clean.
It wasn't pretty.
But after eight minutes of chaos, blood, and one more scream that nearly caused me to uninstall the game, Grithok collapsed in a heap of burning fur and rage.
Victory.
Trial Complete.
Guild XP Gained: 2,500
Loot Obtained: Grithok's Rune Collar (Epic – Equip: Reduces Fear duration by 50%)
Team Rank: A
We just stood there, breathing heavily.
Brutus sat down in the fountain. "I smell colors."
Aiko wiped blood off her cheek. "That was the most aggressive pig I've ever met."
Sera walked over to the corpse and inspected the loot. "I want the collar."
I handed it over. "Fair. You saved us."
She took it and slipped it on like it was a necklace from a claw machine.
I checked the guild log.
Oblivion Core
Level: 2
Members: 4
XP to next level: 1,500
Guild Buff Unlocked: Minor Combat Regen (+2 HP/sec outside combat)
I smiled.
We were on the board now. Official. Ranked.
Small — but visible.
Brutus pulled himself up and leaned on his spear. "What's next?"
"Rest," I said. "Then maybe… recruiting."
"More people?" Aiko asked.
"Eventually. For now, I just want us sharp. We're not a swarm. We're a scalpel."
Sera raised an eyebrow. "Poetic."
"Thanks. I read a book once."
She didn't laugh, but her mouth twitched.
Good enough.
We made our way back to town as night settled over Silverpine. The wind had picked up, rustling the trees. The air felt charged. Like the game itself was watching.
I checked my inbox.
Two new messages.
One was from an unknown player offering 10k gold for a spot in the guild.
The other was a friend request.
From someone I hadn't seen in years.
My fingers hovered over Accept.
I didn't click yet.
Not yet.
For now, I just wanted to savor the walk back with my team — bruised, battered, but not broken.
We were more than four players now.
We were a guild.
And soon?
We'd be a problem.