The kingtusk wheels around – as well as an oversized boar with the turning circle of an articulated lorry can do such a thing – and stamps its hooves, preparing to charge. The last time didn’t go so well; our attempt to hastily assemble a giant springloaded mallet trap resulted in us placing down several smaller springs instead, with one launching us straight into the stampeding beast, which immediately sent us flying back 30 feet or so. Now, however, we’re ready. Extending an arm, our hunter conjures a stack of crates, which fuse to form a mighty bulwark; our plan is to climb atop it
