There exists a single entry on the Golden Hawks’ internal records that remains conspicuously incomplete.
A blank line.
No clear timestamp.
No victory marker.
It belongs to Sir Honk, The Goose of Goldsbane.
Iamgod1337 has defeated nearly every endgame encounter in Eidolon Online.
Ancient titans.
System-breaking mythic rares.
Bosses designed to punish greed, arrogance, and repetition alike.
He farms them.
He screenshots them.
He brags about them.
But Sir Honk is different.
Sir Honk is not an endgame boss in the traditional sense. He does not guard a raid zone, nor does he sit atop a progression ladder. He wanders. He waits. He appears where wealth gathers and confidence follows.
And every time Iamgod1337 goes after him, something goes wrong.
(Logged, Deleted, Recovered)
The first encounter was treated as a joke.
Zone chat remembers it well.
“It’s a goose. CR’s inflated.”
“I’ll be done before my buffs wear off.”
Sir Honk did not rush.
He did not posture.
He simply looked at the white-armored Eidolon approaching with a legendary spear gleaming in the sun.
The honk that followed was not loud.
It was heavy.
By the time the fight ended, Iamgod1337 was prone, stunned, and watching his carefully organized inventory containers turn into dead weight under the curse of avarice. He desynchronized shortly after—his first death to a “joke boss.”
The screenshot never made it to chat.
Subsequent attempts were quieter.
No announcements.
No entourage.
No spectators.
Each time, Iamgod1337 entered with tighter builds, sharper rotations, and less gold on hand—only to find Sir Honk adapting in ways that felt personal.
Sir Honk does not scale mechanically.
He scales psychologically.
The more wealth Iamgod1337 carried, the more punishing the encounter became.
The more confident his approach, the more devastating the Goose’s timing.
The fewer mistakes he allowed himself, the more one mistake mattered.
Witnesses report that during one failed attempt, Iamgod1337 hesitated mid-fight—just long enough for Hoard’s Echo to recharge.
That hesitation is now legendary.
NPC scholars have begun to whisper that Sir Honk remembers.
Not through system memory.
Through instinct.
Sir Honk was once a gold dragon obsessed with accumulation. His curse stripped him of speech, wings, and flame—but not understanding. He recognizes greed. He senses valuation. He reacts not to strength, but to attachment.
Iamgod1337, for all his mechanical excellence, is deeply attached to his image.
White armor unmarred.
Perfect clears.
Unbroken streaks.
Sir Honk pecks at that.
The most telling sign of Sir Honk’s dominance is not the deaths—it’s the avoidance.
Veteran Golden Hawks have noted that when Sir Honk sightings appear in region chatter, Iamgod1337 goes silent. He reroutes. He delays. He suddenly has “other bosses to farm.”
Once, during a rare seasonal event, a teammate reportedly asked:
“You gonna handle the goose?”
The response came after a long pause.
“…Later.”
This from the man who challenges mythic raids for warm-up.
Sir Honk has become known as:
The Pretty Boy Breaker
The White Armor Check
The Boss That Teaches Humility
New players laugh.
Veterans nod knowingly.
Iamgod1337 never comments.
Because in a world where strength, wealth, and repetition can overcome nearly anything—
Sir Honk remains the one boss that refuses to be farmed.
And worse?
He honks every time he sees Iamgod1337 coming.