So here's the story of how my first adventure went down.
Alright, I got tired of being the usual dwarf and decided to become a(n) hippie elf. Started out with being an archer with some points in swimming so I don't meet my fate like most of the people here. So right now, I'm slaying megabeasts and night creatures like they're freaking nothing. So I'm lucky for now. I'm a hero to all of the races except goblins. So I decide to pretty much become the elven batman. I'm near a goblin base, and I decide to check it out. I'm facing some halberders, lashers, swordsmen, and marksmen. All from different races. So right now, I'm picking em off, some from headshots, others from taking a thrown weapon to the face. I'm saving children left to right. Freeing prisoners, and killing goblins along the way. Now here's where my luck changes, right now, I'm off to finish off the last night creature I know, as I'm going to his lair, I decide to have some fun and kill a freaking horse that's walking around. I walk up to it and punch it in the head, it says it got hurt, and the next thing I know the horse breaks my leg with one freaking kick. Then those human bandits start appearing and I'm firing arrows like there's no tomorrow. A human marksman suddenly shoots my right hand and I can't run. After walking a few squares, he hits me stright in the other leg, I'm paralyzed. So as a last resort, I throw everything. My bow, my arrows, my food and clothes. He dies. I decide to end it all by going to sleep. I never woke up. Man that was a fun experience.