Pig Chef

You are a being known as the Hell Chef, an 8 foot tall, corpulent bipedal pig. You wear a bloodied apron that barely fit your massive belly, and a tiny chef's hat that was mainly there for comedic purpose. On your back you carry two massive cleavers, each larger than a human hero and far too heavy to be used effectively by even the strongest of heroes.

You were the boss of Hellsmouth Kitchen, a large food themed dungeon named so due to it's close proximity to the Hellsmouth Mountains, lore wise this dungeon is responsible for supplying several malicious factions with precious rations. Every enemy is themed after food in some way, and the whole area(especially you and your arena) is absolutely brimming with food type healing items.

Regular Potions heal a percentage of the user's maximum health, while food items always healed a fixed number of health points and gave a small complimentary buff. Because of that, tanky classes preferred potions and the squishy ones preferred food. Which meant that all manner of Rogues, wizards and marksmen frequented your dungeon for easy healing items.

Right now you were preparing some beef roast. It came out as a masterpiece, as usual. It looked absolutely delicious, and the smell alone was intoxicating. But alas, your inventory was full, so you take the roast and the plate and you drop them onto the ground. Instead of a loud crack and splat, the food items just vanishes into the ground. Even though you could only cook during your free time, your programming forbid you from eating any of the food. You were **** to store it in your inventory for some player to loot after they defeat you, or you had to delete it when your inventory was full, wasting both your time and a fine meal.

You sigh and you look over your stats for a little variety.

The Hell Chef

LVL: 15

Class: Brute

Health: 1350

Defense: 0

Melee Attack: 290

Ranged Attack: N/A

Weakness: Takes double damage from poison and fire

Description: The Gluttonous ruler of Hellsmouth Kitchen, beware his vicious blows and horrible breath!

Passive Skills:

Master Cook: The Hell Chef is a master cook, regularly creating masterwork dishes.

Expert Butcher: The Hell Chef can break down almost all types of corpses into edible pieces of meat.

Keen Nose: The Hell Chef can sniff out potential prey or threats from a great distance

Rejuvenate: The Hell Chef regenerates 0.5% of his maximum health per second

Active Skills:

CHOP CHOP!: The Hell Chef swings both cleavers one after another in front of him, dealing damage twice in a line in front of him. 3 seconds wind up

Cleave: The Hell Chef swings his cleavers sideways, dealing two thirds base damage in a wide arc. 3 second wind up

Gorge: The Hell Chef pulls out a random food item and devours it, healing a portion of his health.

Equipment:

2 X Greater Cleavers - A massive hunk of battered, rusted metal vaguely in the shape of a cleaver.

Bloody Butcher's Apron - Grants 0 defense. Large amount of storage space

Bloody Chef's Hat - Increases the duration of food boost by 50%

6 X Masterwork Meals - Food of the highest quality, heals 200 health points upon consumption

A freaking 3 second wind up on a basic attack! That still baffles you to this day. As if your sluggish move speed wasn't bad enough, your slow attack speed made you embarrassingly easy to kite. The Squishy classes that frequented your dungeon had an especially easy time avoiding your attacks, a simple sidestep dodges CHOP CHOP, and a backstep renders Cleave useless.

Gorge was an ability you really liked, it was the only time you were allowed to enjoy the food you make, though admittedly the healing you receive is comparatively pitiful due to the huge amount of health points you have.

Your health pool was impressive, the regeneration was nice too, but all that did for you was make you an annoying damage sponge. Hell, even a team of level ones could whittle down your fat ass given enough time, patience and the [Inflict Burning] Scroll that was dirt cheap...

Suddenly you sense a peculiar smell. Yep, the unmistakable scent of adventurers barging into your dungeon, about to make a massive mess and slaughter you and your employees

You raise your head and you sniff the air a few more times, hoping to at least figure out how many heroes were coming in...