There was a small village in the Plains of Bohar, a little mudball of a town. This area lacked a lot of resources other areas had, but it had good people. It also had an orphanage that took in children without parents. This little town had issues, the soil wasn't nearly as fertile as other areas were, a lot of the population was either too old, or too young, having lost talented adults in conflicts with orcish tribles in the area. Hiro Kouen visited the town, and dispatched many orcish soldiers that were attacking this town. He befriended many of the orphans, like the little boy Tiny Tim, who told him he wished to be able to have a big feast one day, but they were poor and couldn't afford it.Hiro was now in the celebration, having aided in defeating the eldritch invasion. But Hiro felt sad still, his mind was on this little town he befriended. They didn't have the food to celebrate this victory for the world. Could there be a way to bring a party to these poor people? Hiro was deep in thought when he was brought out of his reverie by sudden shouts and screams. Hiro approached one of the fey folk who had started the commotion.
"What's going on? We're under attack?" Hiro asked.
"The Turkeys! The Turkeys are attacking!" With what the fey said, Hiro took a few moments to process this.
"Have you had a bit too much of the sauce? Come on, how much have you had to drink? Or is this just a prank?"
"No, sir! The turkeys got into a batch of potions, and now they've grown in size, and they're threatening to trample everyone and ruin the festivities!"
Hiro scratched his head, and decided to check out what was going on. He rushed away from the festival to see what the hell was going on, and he saw a werewolf-like lycan fighting through an army of giant rabid turkeys.
"What the F–k? Seriously? He was serious about that?" Hiro, with a flash of light and magic, and some flourish, had summoned his armor and equipment to his side. He was wearing his crimson knightly armor, with his sword Empyrean sheathed to his hip. An idea went through his head.
The villagers, the orphans.
"Tonight, the villagers, they shall dine on turkey!" Hiro unsheathed his blade, held it up to the sky, then charged into battle. He carved a swath of destruction, cleaving through turkey necks, and flames erupting from his blade. The air became thick with the scent of cooked turkey.
"Hey, good sir! Mind if we save some of these turkeys? There's a little village I know, filled with orphans, and poor folk, they could use food. Was thinking of bringing them some so they can have a feast!" Hiro cleaved through another turkey, he was aiming to prevent as big a mess as he could, keeping the turkeys mostly intact, while still taking them out.