The beast was proving to be more than a match for the trio of travelers. Their quest screeching to a halt, looking as though it would end right there, unless they could fight back with their combined strengths. The creature breathed fire, forcing them to fall back.
Sparkling Bell, the sage, tried to cast a thunderbolt at the foul beast, but she could not summon the magical power. Plemlobopa, the mystical elvish mare with black-and-white hair, tried to use her magical powder, hoping to blind the creature. To her utter horror, the attack failed and the beast was unfazed. The sword of Leskoo the Brave laid on the ground, shattered in pieces. Even if it was whole, it would be of no use, for she knew that the monster's scaly hide was thicker than steel, and it's bite fiercer than the strongest of kicks from an apple-bucker.
The beast, sensing their weakness, closed in. They had nowhere to hide, no formidable weapons and no means of escape. All seemed lost for the group, their journey only having just begun.
"This is the end, I fear," Plemlobopa despaired. "For there is no victory here."
~~~