The three heroes were walking down a winding path, hours into a most dreary forest. The trees, said to be some of the tallest in the world, seemed heightless, indeed; one could only assume there was a canopy of some kind, since precious little natural light came down from the sky here. They were dense as well; by some force (perhaps an enchantment), none outright obstructed the crunchy, rooty path, but even your best dwarven hunter-gatherers (who had exceptional eyesight) wouldn't dare stray from the path, for nobody could expect to find their way back if they did. Knowing this well, this party of three was bold, but not stupid; they had yet avoided any untimely fate.

Their incredible skill (and, on some accounts, luck) would be tested now, for out from a bush jumped a goblin. This creature was quite similar to those anyone hears of in old tales: short, stubby legs and matching crinkly boots; a tattered tunic crafted from some sort of beast hide; and an eerily skull-shaped helmet atop the thing's bald scalp. Goblins were an off-shoot from the dwarves, but neither race would hear it from you, as each had a deeply ingrained hatred towards the other. This goblin, in particular, was a prime example of their differences; while dwarves are a peaceful sort and would aid any wandering travellers, one wouldn't take more than a moment to think otherwise about this obstacle, who sported on face a wicked smirk and in hand an awfully stained dagger.

Indeed, less than a moment after seeing the goblin (which may have taken a moment anyway, since it was rather dark there), our heroes braced themselves where they stood. But this would certainly be no difficult opponent; Tracey stepped forward and beckened out, so that the goblin might approach. Tracey was easily the most battle-experienced hero in their party, and this could probably be attributed to being part of the elven clan of Monsterslayers, who were (not to the surprise of many) particularly fierce, even among elves. All the same, as she made sure to tell anyone around her, she was quite a warrior by her people's standards; this was proved well by the deep red cape you'd never see her without, and by the golden silk emblem emblazoned into her wear-toughened leather chestpiece.

Dumb attack hadn't earned Tracey the status she took, in fact (although some elves would argue that approach worked just as well); summoning the goblin closer was a choice anyone could tell was most strategic. This is because her weapon of choice was a sort of flail - particularly, a chain whip with a sharp metal hook linked onto the end. Just the sight of it was more than enough to scare away most potential foes; nevermind its swing!

[Dunno if I'll continue this....but the other characters in mind were a somewhat more humble-sensible dwarf(?) mage (preoccupied with being their light source in the woods), good at spells but hesitant to hurt anyone; and a god-turned-human(?) who insists he is, in fact, still a god; he starts out useless but I'd like him to fill the role of a bard - who, surprise, will actually become quite useful! I'm not sure how yet though. In this story he mostly charges in like an idiot, though. He doesn't get badly hurt, but it's enough to make anybody else consider that perhaps he should have considered that he is, like the others, a Mere Mortal.]