This is an English folksong that has a boar I’m choosing to read as infernally-possessed. It’s a simple sort of monster, but suited for low-combat sagas. The song is often called Sir Robert Bolton had three sons because the trend at the time was to use the first line for indexing. Some performers call it The Jolly Hunter of Bromsgrove. That’s a town in England just south of Birmingham.
This is going to be in Ars Magica Monsters #3, which has a theme of low Might adversaries.
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Sir Robert Bolton had three sons
Wind well thy horn good hunter
And one of them Sir Rylas
Well he was a jovial hunter
He ranged all round the woodside
Wind well thy horn good hunter
Till in a tree top a lady he spied
For he was a jovial hunter
What dost thou mean fair lady
Wind well thy horn good hunter
The wildest boar has killed my lord
As thou art a jovial hunter
So he put his horn into his mouth
Wind well thy horn good hunter
And he blowed north, east, west and south
For he was a jovial hunter
And the wild board heard him in his den
Wind well thy horn good hunter
And he’s made the best of speed to him
To Rylas the jovial hunter
They fought four hours in a long summer’s day
Wind well thy horn good hunter
Till the wild boar fain would have gotten away
From Rylas the jovial hunter
So Rylas drew his sword with might
Wind well thy horn good hunter
And he fairly cut his head off, quite
For he was a jovial hunter
Then from the wood a wild woman flew
Wind well thy horn good hunter
Saying my pretty spotted pig thou has slew
As thou art a jovial hunter
If there’s one thing I demand of thee
Wind well thy horn good hunter
It’s that my sword and thy neck can agree
I am a jovial hunter
Then Rylas drew his sword again
Wind well thy horn good hunter
And he fairly split her head in twain
For he was a jovial hunter
In Bromsgrove Church they both do lie
Wind well thy horn good hunter
With the wild boar’s head on a spike nearby
To Rylas the jovial hunter
Games From Folktales 