Darren the Dark Elf, Gary the Dwarf, and Paprika the Fairy embark on a quest. What will happen? I'll tell you what will happen, they're going to have an adventure. Maybe meet some friends, have some battles, or go on a picnic. That sort of thing.
Excerpt:
Hello, young adventurer! My name is Darren. Darren the Dark Elf. I once took part in an adventure so incredibly epic it reaches past the scope of human imagination and understanding! But I will try to put it into words you can understand.
It all started this one night when I was sleeping in a tree. Down at the base of the tree slept my traveling companion, Gary the Dwarf. His arms were curled around Smitey, his trusty Battle-Hammer. Paprika the fairy was curled up in his beard.
It was just me in the tree. Me and the snake.
“Where did that snake come from?” I thought frantically. It slithered closer.
And closer!
Then I gave it a swift kick with my black leather boot. Whump! It landed below.
Gary let out a shriek.
“Ahhh!” He yelled. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, it’s a snake!”
“Here I come, Gary!” I hollered, and jumped swiftly and nimbly to the ground like some kind of elven ninja. Which I was. Only around here they call us “Rogues.”
I landed softly and pulled out my daggers with a flourish. I waved them around in front of me a few times to show the snake who was boss. The snake growled in return and bared its teeth.
“Take THAT vile snake!” I yelled, and slashed a zig-zag pattern into the snake’s skin.
“Hiss!” yelled the snake, and lunged straight for my throat!
“Oh no!” yelled Gary.
Just then Paprika woke up. Quickly, she pointed her fairy wand at the snake. “I cast fireball!” she shouted, and cast a fireball at the snake!
Poof! Went the snake, and became nothing more than a line of ash.
“Phew! That sure was a close one!” said Gary.
“You got that right, Gary!” I agreed. “What a close call! I bet this is just a taste of what awaits us in our travels!”
“How do you know that?” asked Gary.
“Being a Dark Elf means more than just looking awesome and wearing cool black leather armor,” I explained. “It also means being sensitive to things. Like when the forest is crying out in pain!”
“And is it crying out in pain?” Gary asked in wonder.
I listened for a moment. “Yes,” I nodded.
“Goodness gracious!” said Gary.
