RindCore — Tuskbearer of Skullwood

RindCore did not die in Skullwood — he was rendered there, ground down between the roots until what remained was tusk and ichor and the memory of a charge. Now he hangs as a mounted relic, snout still wet with the green bile that killed him and kept him. Inked in the high-contrast register of cursed handbills nailed to forest trees, every fracture line, every bristle of mane, every weep of toxic drip is carved in deep Crypt Melt relief. No paint. No pigment laid by hand. The hot pink rind, the bone-tan jaw, the black line work, and the radioactive sap dripping from his nose — all of it surfaces structurally, layer by layer, from the bed. He was the boar the bonewards warned children about. The tuskbearer that ran the deer paths long after the deer were gone. They say he still snorts in the underbrush of Skullwood when the canopy goes quiet — and that the green he leaks behind him is what kills the moss for a season. Vault-sealed. RindCore does not enter the public record.