The town was restless. The air had been thick with excitement for hours, but right now it had a sharpness to it — like the anticipation before a storm.
The sound of hammers hitting nails echoed from the square as stalls were set up, colorful banners flapping in the breeze. In the distance, a steady murmur of voices filled the streets as townsfolk went about their business, unaware that something special was about to unfold.
The hunters had brought back a Blackboar. It was a massive beast, its black fur gleaming in the sun despite the heavy weight of its form.
The townspeople gathered in small clusters, whispering in awe as the hunters, rugged and weather-beaten, unloaded the carcass from their arms in the Town Kitchen.
They were seasoned, these hunters, known for their skill in tracking the wild monsters of the forest, but it had been some time since they'd ventured out there, let alone bagged a creature as impressive as this.
Though they had grown accustomed to the eerie, still quiet of the surrounding woods, the Blackboar was an old friend.
One the hunters knew well, and it was no surprise that they had brought it down. Still, even they could not deny the thrill of capturing such a magnificent creature, one that had eluded them for months.
In the kitchen, a flurry of activity ensued. The cooks, masters of their craft, were already in motion.
It wasn't an easy task to prepare a meal for an entire town, especially when that meal was something as grand as a feast.
They had planned for this moment, but no one had expected the boar to arrive so soon. And certainly, no one had anticipated that it would arrive in such quantity.
The Blackwood kitchen, though large and well-equipped for its size, was humble in comparison to those of more well-off towns and cities.
It was nothing more than a wide space with large, stone sinks along the far wall, a few hanging racks of fresh herbs, and shelves stacked with jars of spices and dried vegetables.
The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, fresh herbs, and the earthy smell of root vegetables as the cooks scrambled to prepare.
The kitchen was a hive of activity — hands chopping vegetables, the hiss of boiling pots, and the rhythmic sound of knives slicing through the skin of the Blackboar as they began the process of skinning the beast.
The boar's deep, rich scent filled the room as the cooks carefully separated the meat from the bones.
It wasn't the first time they had worked with such a beast, but it never got easier. The skin was thick, tough, and required skill to peel away without damaging it.
The hooves, too, were important. They were tough and durable, perfect for crafting, and the fangs — sharp and deadly — had their own purpose.
A good craftsman could carve a weapon from those teeth, a souvenir from the hunt that would live on long after the feast had ended.
The head cook, a beautiful mature woman with hands that could turn a hunk of meat into a meal fit for a king, stood at the center of the chaos, barking orders to the others.
She was known for her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, but there was a warmth in her eyes when she spoke to the men and women under her command. Her presence brought a calm focus to the room as the cooks worked in sync with one another.
She paused for a moment, wiping her brow with the back of her hand as she surveyed the progress.
The meat was being washed and prepped, the vegetables were being diced, and the spices were being prepared for what was sure to be a meal unlike any other.
"A single boar might not be enough to feed an entire town," she muttered to herself, though loud enough for the other cooks to hear.
Her gaze flickered to the pile of meat on the counter. She knew that Lord Cronos had promised a feast, but even with the size of the Blackboar, there wouldn't be enough to go around.
The cooks exchanged uncertain looks, but no one spoke out. They had their orders, and their Lord had given them. They would make do with what they had.
Suddenly, the door to the kitchen swung open with a loud creak. The cooks froze, some instinctively stepping back from their work.
The Head Cook turned, her heart skipping a beat as her eyes fell on the figure standing in the doorway.
It was Lord Cronos.
He entered with a weary but determined stride, sweat glistening on his brow as he wiped his hand across his forehead. His tunic, usually pristine, was stained with dirt and blood, the remnants of the hunt still clinging to his skin.
But what caught the cooks' attention wasn't just his arrival — it was the enormous Blackboar that was being heaved into the room behind him.
The beast was even larger than the first, its weight causing the hunters and Cronos himself to strain under the load. The head cook's breath caught in her throat.
She hadn't expected another boar. But here it was, a second Blackboar, laid out on the ground before them.
Cronos' voice broke the stunned silence. "I figured that one wouldn't be enough," he said with a casual grin, wiping his hands against his hair as he surveyed the room.
"So I brought another. Use this one too. Try to make it enough."
He paused for a moment, catching his breath, and then added, "We've got a feast later in the evening, and I want everything to be perfect. The whole town's counting on you."
The Head Cook swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had feared the meal might fall short, but now she saw that Lord Cronos was determined to make sure that wasn't the case.
He always expected perfection, and she wasn't about to let him down.
The other cooks exchanged relieved glances. There was no longer any doubt in their minds — this would be the feast of a lifetime.
They nodded to Cronos in unison, murmuring their agreement to make it perfect.
With that, Cronos gave a short nod and turned to leave, his steps echoing down the hallway as he made his way to his chambers to freshen up.
The Head Cook stood still for a moment, watching the door close behind him, before snapping back into action.
"Alright, we've got a lot of work to do, people!" she shouted, her voice a sharp command that cut through the buzz of the room. "Let's make this meal something the town will never forget."
And so, the kitchen buzzed to life once more. The Blackboars were skinned, prepared, and cooked with all the care and expertise the cooks could muster. The feast would be grand, and every dish would be a testament to their skill, their loyalty to Lord Cronos, and their pride in the town they called home.