Gorosk was relieved as the three boars turned and fled.  They were animals that only a fool underestimated.  They were heavy, fast, and aggressive; with thick hides and two large bone knives growing out of their faces.  The boars likely would have all died had they not turned and fled, but at least one of the party would all but certainly have been injured and that injury may well have been fatal.  It was easy to see how the settlers of Reddenbarrow might have been frightened off form attempts to retake this stead.

The Half-Orc moved slowly closer to the stead holding his quarterstaff out before him, the boars may well not be the only danger here and perhaps a closer look at the remains of the stead might tell them something about how it had come to be in it's current state.  It was a bit eerie, the ruined state of the only civilization out here in contrast to the blossoming vivacious nature of the foliage and the only eyes that had been on it until just now were the beady porcine eyes of those three boars.  Ugly, frightening creatures.  What a horrible way to die that would be, but were there more of them out here and were they what had killed the settlers?

Certainly they could have, but could they destroyed the stead?  And would they have?  It seemed unlikely to Gorosk.