Deep within the Thradean forest, an old, yet sturdy, two-horse carriage could be seen meandering along a rather poorly up-kept road, freaquent potholes dotting the surface. Yet, a pothole was not generally considered "dangerous," no, that title was reserved for the likes of bandits, monsters, and most certainly monster bandits, not unlike the ones who have set up a road block not far ahead. That being said, a roadblock is only truly effective if the target doesn't know it's coming, and as it turns out, these "monster bandits" forgot to clean up after their last target, allowing the carriage a chance to flee, not that they managed to escape detection either.
"SHIT! WHICH USELESS FUCKS LEFT THE TRASH OUT!" bellowed a heavily muscled, red skinned, two horned, figure, much larger than the rest of the bandits. The surrounding monsters all proceeded to point at eachother randomly in an inconclusive attempt to void themselves of any responisbility in the matter, the boss was not amused.
"Nevermind you useless magots!" commanded the bandit boss, a vein throbbing in his forehead, "Just go kill those bastards!"
Following the order, a rather sizeable horde of began pursuit of the carriage at a speed most definitely beyond what is humanly possible, which is to say, they were gaining on the fleeing carriage. Speaking of which, turns out that potholes may actually fall under the lable of "dangerous" after all, because hitting one at a rather great speed, such as the carriage did, results in some unfortunate events. Most importantly, and unfortunately, though is that the carriage lost control, quite quickly left road, and discovered that carriages cannot (under these circumstances) phase through trees. Thankfully, though, most everyone inside the carriage was unharmed aside from some bruises, the driver, on the other hand, discovered that his body is quite allergic to body slamming an oak tree at high speeds.
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"What the hell!?" cried Randy, crawling out of the battered carriage, "Hey Gramps! What's going on? Gra- oooh... that's not good."
About 500 yards down the road, a rather sizeable, and quite bloodthirsty horde containing all manner of demons and creatures of murder-death could be seen charging at full speed towards the carriage, the much larger head demon could be seen in the lead, wielding a massive warhammer. Needless to say, this situation is not very favorable to Randy and crew, but, as it turns out, potholes are just as dangerous to demon hordes as they are to carriages, as it only took the tripping of the lead demons before the entire group was in a giant pile of angry and ugly. Which, of course, created the perfect opportunity for our Random Rompers to escape into the forest during the confusion, quite effectively giving the demons the slip.
However, things weren't over yet, for at this point, the driver "Gramps" peels himself off of the oak tree, a halo of energy flashing around him, rage in his eyes. He lifted his arm, crackling with divine light, and an explosion of utmost radiance engulfed the horde, the sound audible for hundreds of miles, the light, thousands. The bandits cease to exist, no trace of their being to be found, yet Gramps cannot be seen either, who knows what truly happened. Certainly not Randy, nor any of his friends, who unanimously decided to speed up following the cataclysmic event that transpired in their immediate vicinity. Thus, they headed deeper into the woods, unaware of what could be awaiting them, unaware of the evil they now face.