Ironscale Boar

The shoulder plates rang against the rail-cut walls. The boar came straight through our barrier and carried the timbers with it.

We'd heard it coming, a shovel-over-rail rasp. Iron plates covered it from snout to rump. Soot packed the seams, hiding the orange light except when it breathed in. Slag had built both tusks into black wedges. After the impact, furnace breath cracked the cold slag under our feet.

Before it turned, the plates lifted and scraped from tail to neck. We learned to listen for that.

The boar chooses a straight lane with walls that keep prey in it. Obstacles are broken rather than avoided. It can pivot only after the plates rise to vent. A furnace snort after a shoulder strike may ruin the footing under the target.

Hurt, it presses cracked plates against hot iron near vents, where microbes rebuild them. Water cools it, but can lock armor around the lungs and provoke a desperate final rush. Broad sand beds or rail switches can redirect it more safely than a barricade.