D&D Cartoon Fan Club Newsletter #9, Part 5
November/December 1998

As you can tell from the title, my "D&D Elseworlds" story places our favorite
group members in a world very similar to that of Robin Hood's -- with, of
course, a few little changes.  I didn't take any one interpretation of the
Robin Hood story as my reference -- it's kind of an amalgam of all of them --
but most of it is derived from the storyline of the 1991 movie, with my own
little changes here and there, of course.
This story is rated RBPOTM (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves Movie), as it has
the equivalent level of action, references, and language, etc., as the movie
does.  (It was rated PG-13 for those of you who didn't see it).  But unlike
the movie, my Robin Hood actually keeps his English accent throughout the
story!  (Sorry, I like Kevin Costner too, but I couldn't help myself on that
one).  If you didn't like the movie, don't read the story.  If you don't like
PG-13 level action-adventure movies, don't read the story.  If you don't like
to read stories where people rarely use contractions and speak all fancy-
schmancy-like, don't read the story!  So there.
So, without further adieu, here is Part 6 of:

Henry Hood: Prince of Thieves!
by Amy Hodman

"Yes?" the guard asked, with a hint of boredom in his voice.  "What is your
business?"
"We captured some of Henry Hood's spies in the woods outside, and we are
bringing them to Venge to be questioned," Preston said, trying with every
ounce of his being to be forceful and obnoxious.
"Venge is otherwise disposed at this moment," the guard sneered at him, then
surprisingly, he shrugged.  "But...I belive having some of Henry Hood's men
rotting away in the dungeon would make a rather nice wedding gift for his
Majesty."
"There is still time before the ceremony begins," the other guard next to him
nodded.  "It truly would make the celebration all the more meaningful for
everyone involved."  Preston fought the urge to roll his eyes.  Were these
wedding planners, or guards?
The first guard walked towards three of the taller figures behind Preston, who
were draped in cloaks covering their faces.  "And why are these three covered
up?"
Eric winced underneath his disguise as he saw the guard reaching for his hood.
If they saw his face, they would recognize him immediately, and they would all
be...well, Eric certainly did not want to think about it.
"Lep -- leprosy, sir," Preston stammered. "And quite nasty cases at that."
The guard shrank back and pulled his hand away.  "Perhaps bringing them to
Venge is not such a good idea."
Preston frowned, looking desperately back at his disguised friends.
"I do not think it is wise to take the chance of not bringing them to Venge,"
the second guard chimed in.  "It is better to let him see the prisoners than
for him to find out that we did not bring them to him immediately."
Preston let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"Very well," the first guard nodded.  "Follow me up to the main hall."

                                                *

"Did you hear that?" Sheila asked hopefully, turning her head towards the door
of her chamber.  It was probably nothing.  A guard walking by the door.  A
servant dropping a parcel.  Sheila shook her head.  How could it possibly be
anything else?
One of the seamstresses shook her head.  "I'm sure it was nothing of
importance, m'lady."
The other woman gingerly handed her a small bouquet of flowers.  "It is time,
m'lady.  His Highness is waiting for you in the main hall."
Sheila took a deep breath and turned towards the door, trying to swallow down
the feelings of nauseu bubbling up from her stomach. There was nothing left to
do now but pray for a miracle.  Sheila took a deep breath as she stepped into
the cold hallway.
In a quarter of an hour or less, even the grandest of miracles could do
nothing for her.

                                                *

"Do you think anyone will notice if I put them over here?" Eric asked, a hint
of panic in his voice, as he shoved the unconscious form of one of Venge's
guards behind a large statue.
Diana rolled her eyes at Eric.  "For the last time, Eric, it does not matter
whether we leave them here in the hall or hide them.  And stop making so much
noise!  We only need to wait a little longer, until Henry and Preston get back
here with the rest of the men who have been hiding outside, then we will
surely be.."
"Captured?" Diana and Eric's heads swirled around as ten burly men grinned at
them through chipped and blackened teeth.
"That is not what we had in mind, no," Eric said, wincing as the guards
approached the pair.
"Stop prattling and start attacking, Eric," Diana hissed at him though
clenched teeth.
"Brave words," one of the men sneered at her.  "It is unfortunate that they
shall be your last."  With that, he stepped aside to reveal the small,
shriveled form of Ti'amat behind him.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Ti'amat rasped as she nodded at the guards.  "We knew
that Venge and his miserable cohort were lying to us when they told us you
were nowhere to be found.  The fools underestimate you, child, but.." she
grinned as she reached towards Diana, "We did not."
Diana backed away from Ti'amat, a tint of horror in her eyes.  "What -- what
are you?"
Eric's jaw hung open in utter surprise.  "She -- it -- is Ti'amat, the
fabled....I thought she was just a myth...."
"No dear boy, we are as real as you," Ti'amat hissed, not taking her eyes off
Diana for an instant.  "Seize her at once."
Diana's dark eyes narrowed as the burly guards lumbered towards her, reaching
for her fighting stick.
Eric looked at the scene around them, panicked and overwhelmed.
"What are you waiting for, Eric, a written invitation?" Diana shoved him back
to reality.  "Get out your sword and start fighting!"
"But, but I..." he looked helplessly at Diana, fumbling for his sword.  It
fell with a clunk onto the floor, slipping precariously out of his
uncoordinated hands.
Diana shook her head.
"By the goddess, do SOMETHING, Eric! Anything at all would be very helpful!"
Diana shouted at Eric as the guardsmen began to surround her.
"He will be doing something, all right," Eric heard a voice grumble as he
looked up at the wooden stick heading straight for his head.  "Not twice in
one day...." Eric barely finished as a thump on the back of his head left him
unconscious yet again.

                                                *

"Diana?  Diana?" Preston called out, racing up and down the narrow hallway in
a panic.
His eyes lit up as he saw Henry's familiar form striding down the hall towards
him.  "Henry!  Where are they?  I was certain we had told them to meet us
here, but I must have been mistak..."
Henry regarded Preston with a confused look.  "No, Preston, this was the
place."  He looked around the hallway, scratching his head.  "And no guards,
either.  There should have been five up on their way here, if what Eric said
were true. If they had not defeated them, at least a few of those guards would
still have been here.  Do you think they might have already set out ahead of
us to find where they are keeping Sheila and Robert?"
Henry felt a light tapping on his shoulder, and turned to look at Matthew,
whose face paled as he handed him a broken wooden quarterstaff.  Henry's eyes
widened in concern as he examined the etchings on the top.  Diana's
quarterstaff.
"They must have captured Diana and Sir Eric," Matthew said quietly.
Preston's face became red with anger.  "I knew we should not have sent them up
here alone!  I knew that he couldn't...."
Henry placed a reassuring hand on Preston's shoulder.  "Do not worry, Preston.
We will find her."
The sudden sound of metal crashing onto the stone floor made all of them jump.
As they whirled around, weapons drawn, they were surprised to see the meek
form of a diminutive old woman, clasping what looked like a sewing basket, and
quickly picking up the scatterings of an armor helmet she had knocked down.
Henry peered at the armor stand.  She must have been hiding there.
"Who are you?" Henry demanded.  "And why were you spying on us?"
"Not spying," the woman said matter-of-factly.  "I was hiding.  Did not know
who you were, and with weapons like those you have one cannot be too sure."
She paused and tilted her head up at him. "You -- you are here for the young
lady, the one that His Highness wishes to marry, are you not."
Henry's eyes narrowed.  "How do you know that...."
"What is not to know?"  she said.  "She is in the main chamber, that way."
They stood looking at her.
"What are you waiting for, a written invitation?" the woman barked at Henry.
"Go now! Save your ladylove!"
Henry looked at Preston, looking torn.  "But Diana...and Eric...."
"Henry, go!  You know better than I do that if this wedding is not stopped,
all will be lost."  Preston clasped Henry on the shoulder.  "Henry, I know
better than anyone what you and Sheila have is more important than anything in
the world.  Do not let it slip through your fingers."  He motioned to Jacob
and the rest of Henry's men who were with them.  "Half of you, go with Henry.
The rest of us will stay here and look for Diana."
"But..." Henry faded, looking at his friend.  "Very well.  I will be back the
moment I find Sheila. You can count on that, my friend."  With that, he
nodded, then swiveled on his heel and began running in the direction the old
woman had pointed him in, the rest of the assigned men racing after him.
Preston watched his friend's retreating form and started to twist his hands
together -- a habit he had always engaged in when he was worried about
something.  He looked at the old woman, who had an eerie smile on her face as
she watched Henry run down the hallway.  "Did -- did you happen to see another
woman here a few minutes ago?" Preston asked hopefully.
She looked up at him questioningly, then the woman's smile suddenly faded.
"Those others?  A tall, dark haired gentleman and a rather exotic looking
young lady?"
Preston nodded vigorously.  "Yes, that's them!  Where did they take them?"
The old lady shook her head and looked down at her feet.  "I -- I am afraid
that your other two friends were -- were killed."
"No," Preston stated.  "No," he stated again, more strongly this time, as if
it were a fact he was reciting from a textbook.
Matthew walked towards Preston and put a hand on his shoulder.  "Preston, I am
sure they fought with honor.  Diana would not have wanted to perish any other
way.  You know that was her wish."
Preston swirled to look at Matthew, his normaly placid brow furrowed with
anger and sadness.  "It was too soon, Matthew!  It was not her time.  It....."
he looked at the ceiling, shaking his head, "If only I had been able to...."
Matthew reached out to his friend again, but Preston shoved him away, an
action so contrary to Preston's nature that it left his friend stunned.
"Leave me be!"  With that, Preston took off back down the hallway the way they
had came, back towards the entrace of Venge's castle.
One of the men  -- John, another one of the newest recruits -- turned to look
at Matthew.  "Should we not follow him?"
Matthew shook his head.  "I am afraid, John,  that there would not be much any
of us could do or say that would be of any help."  He sighed as he looked at
the rest of the men.  "Let us go find Henry and aid him as much as we can."
He gestured to John.  "John, take a few of the men with you and head back to
the entrance and wait with Preston until we arrive."  Matthew turned to the
old woman, who had been standing in silence, watching the goings-on with a
strange amount of interest.  "Will you be alright here?  You can go with John,
he will protect you from..."
The old woman's eyes widened, then narrowed as she shook her head.  "I shall
be alright, dear boy.  Thank you for thinking of an old woman's safety in such
a time."
"Very well," Matthew nodded at her, then turned to the rest of the men
standing around them.  "Let us be gone, then!  For victory!" he cried, raising
his sword.
"For victory!" the rest of the men cheered with him.
With that, John and several of the men nodded and started down the hallway
after Preston, as the rest of the group swiftly turned and followed Matthew
down the hallway in the direction Henry had gone before them.
As she watched Matthew's retreating form, the old woman lowered her head in
satisfaction and smiled.  "Now that we will have no interruptions, the
transfer will happen at long last."  She scuttled next to the wall, and darted
up the shadowy staircase next to the suit of armor she had been hiding behind.

                                                *
"Ah, my lovely bride arrives!" Venge said, holding out his arms in a grand yet
empty gesture.  "I was afraid you might be late."
'Were I to be so fortunate', Sheila thought to herself, then cast her eyes
downward as she approached him.
"Shall we begin?" he sneered at her.  Sheila felt as if her body was turning
to ice.  She stood, frozen in place, staring blankly at him.
His eyes narrowed as he approached her.  "My lovely bride to be is nervous, I
see," he finished as his hand clamped around her arm like a vise, yanking her
towards the makeshift altar in his throne room.  Venge turned to look at the
friar who stood in front of them, who was observing the events with a raised
eyebrow.
"Are we certain the young lady wishes to marry?" the young friar asked as he
studied Venge.  "She seems to reserve some doubts.  And as you are well aware,
Your Highness,  marriage is a convenant not to be entered into lightly."
Venge glared at Sheila, who still looked as frozen as the statues that lined
the throne room's walls.  "I assure you, Friar Lorne, that she is more than
ready to enter into marriage with me."  He turned her to face him, and his
voice lowered to a horrifying, grating tone.  "Correct, my dear?"
"Friar....?" Sheila suddenly snapped from her daze, looking up at the Friar,
who regarded her with kind and almost, familiar eyes.  Hadn't Henry spoken of
a Friar Lorne once or twice?
"Henry?" Sheila asked weakly, looking at Friar Lorne
"No, my beloved," Venge's voice lowered again and he looked at her like a man
possessed.  "THAT is Friar LORNE.  I am Venge.  There is no Henry here."
Venge turned to look at Friar Lorne and tried his best to fake an amused
smirk.  "She is easily confused."
"I see," Friar Lorne nodded, his eyebrows raised in an unconvinced manner.
"Please continue with the ceremony," Venge said as he grabbed Sheila be the
arm again.
"Very well," Friar Lorne said, opening a weathered book in one hand and
raising the other above Sheila and Venge's heads.  "Let it be known to all
that this," he paused as he looked at Venge, "this...er, man, and this woman
wish to be wed in holy matrimony."  He looked pointedly at the door at the end
of the room as he continued.  "If there are any present who know of just cause
as to why this marriage cannot take place, let he who objects speak now or
forever hold his...."
"I have just cause," a familar voice intoned from the doorway.  Friar Lorne
let out a deep breath, looking as though he were relieved beyond words.
"Henry?" Sheila asked, turning around to look at the figure behind her.  Her
face brightened for the first time in what felt like a thousand years.
"Henry!" she smiled.  The rest of Henry's men standing around Henry smiled in
what looked like relief.
"Gray," Venge snarled as he looked at Henry, drawing out the name as though it
were the worst word that could ever be intoned by one human being.
"I object," Henry said as he walked purposefully towards Venge, "because this
lady has already accepted my proposal, and therfore cannot enter into marriage
with this man."
Sheila raced across the room and threw herself into Henry's waiting arms.
"I thought -- he told me you were dead...that you all were...and I had to
protect Robert, and...."
Henry put a gentle finger to her lips.  "Shhh," he smiled.  "Even if that were
true, even death could not keep me from you."
She smiled as she wrapped her arms fiercely around his neck.
The sound of a sword being drawn broke their tender moment.  "You have been a
thorn in my side for the last time, whelp.  And now you shall pay, as your
weak father did before you."
Henry's eyes flashed their anger as he stepped away from Sheila.
"Henry..." Sheila started.
Henry grabbed his sword from its hilt and flipped it back and forth between
his hands, his eyes never leaving Venge.  "You are as foolish, and haughty, as
ever, Venge, or do you not notice that you are hopelessly outnumbered?"  He
motioned to the group of his men standing behind him, weapons drawn.
Venge's eyes narrowed, then he smirked slowly as he looked behind them.  "Yes,
yes, my devoted servant of darkness.  That is what must be done, do you not
agree?"
Both Sheila and Henry's heads swirled around to see Shad Dem, holding a dagger
up to a struggling Robert's neck.  "A thousand pardons, my lady," he said
mockingly to Sheila, "but after all, I could not allow your dear brother to
miss the ceremonies.  And I must ensure my master has a fair fight.  T'would
not be in fairness if he had to defend himself from the whole lot of you,
correct?"
"Robert!" Sheila cried, lunging for Shad Dem.  "Let him go!"
Henry gritted his teeth as he glared back at Venge.  "If you allow a hair on
his head to be harmed, so help me..."
Venge chuckled as he dragged the tip of his sword across the stone floor.
"Provided you dismiss your men immediately, and if your lovely wife-to-be --
oh forgive me, she is MY wife-to-be after all, not yours -- can prove her
fighting skills are as good as she claims, I am certain she can save that
annoyance of a sibling before Shad does him harm."  He tilted his head to one
side and rubbed his finger under his chin, spinning his sword in his other
hand.  "Well, at least not enough harm that would mortally wound the boy, in
any case."
Venge clasped both hands on his sword hilt and swung it back and forth in
front of him, like a clock pendulum. "This is between you and I, Gray.  As it
should always have been."
Sheila strode towards Shad, reaching over to the throne room wall to grab a
heavy sword.  "Let him go."
Henry's head flew back and forth between Shad and Sheila, and Venge.  His eyes
clouded over as he shook his head, as if trying to shake out the conflicting
thoughts from it.  For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he didn't
know what to do.
Pushing down his feelings of doubt and helplessness, Henry took a deep breath
and turned to face the men behind him.
Matthew, who had arrived behind the rest of the group, pushed his way to the
front.  "No Henry.  We can't let you do this."
"It has to be this way, Matthew," Henry said quietly, turning to Venge.  "I am
sorry."
"But...." Matthew began.
"Go!" Venge barked at them.  Shad Dem held the dagger closer to Robert's neck
as the boy let out a small yelp of fear.
Matthew shook his head, thrusting his sword back in its scabbard.  "You heard
him men," Matthew said, shaking his head as he stepped backwards towards the
way he had just come.  "Move out."
As he watched the group of Henry's men slowly retreat down the hall, he
glanced at Shad Dem and Sheila, then turned his eyes directly to Hood.
After all this time, he finally had the whelp exactly where he wanted him.
Venge smiled.
It was perfect.

*

"Let.  Me.  Go."
It was more like an order -- almost a growl -- than a request, but M'thoth
paid it no mind.  He owed his fealty, and his attentions, to one person, as he
always had.
To her.
M'thoth clasped the last metal shackle over Diana's slim ankle and stepped
away, bowing to his mistress as he did so.
"She is secure, my liege."
"Excellent," Ti'amat rasped, shuffling towards Diana.  Diana cringed as the
ancient woman stepped right next to her, looked into her eyes with conviction,
then picked up a tattered spellbook and a small velvet pouch.  There was
something about this woman -- or creature -- that made Diana's blood run cold.
Diana the warrior.  Diana, the Fearless One.  Diana...afraid?
She shook her head, as if to physically rid herself of such thoughts, and
began to busy herself with taking an inventory of her situation, as she always
did in such times.  She was standing upright, with her back against a cold,
mildewy wall, her ankles clamped in shackles bolted into it, and her arms
pinned to her sides on the wall by similar looking devices.  She pushed
against her restraints with every ounce of energy she could muster, but
whether it was because she was barely regaining consciousness or the
restraints were made of some unknown, stronger material than she encountered,
she found that she couldn't budge them.
"Let me go, witch," Diana growled at the old woman.
The woman paid her no heed, engrossed in her spellbook.
"Diana?"
Diana's head looked around the room in disbelief..  "Eric?  Is that you?"
The sound of a heavy chain lifting next to her made her shift her attention
downward, as he gaze met Eric's.  He was wrapped, head to toe, in heavy
chains.  It was a wonder that he had been able to move as much as he had to
lift part of his shackles.
"Sorry about this," he sighed.
Diana sighed as she shook her head at him.  The man was an utter nincompoop,
and perhaps the most inept warrior she had ever come across in her eighteen
years on this earth.  But despite all that, she had an undeniable urge to
forgive him for his idiotic tendencies anyway.  She shook her head.  It made
no sense, and no matter.  Both of them were trapped, who knew where, in
Venge's castle.  Who even knew if the others were still alive?
"Diana," Eric hissed again.
"What?" she asked impatiently, turning her head down to regard Eric again.
"I have an idea."
"Wondrous!" Diana exclaimed sarcastically.  "If your idea is even close to as
good as your battle skills, we are sure to die even faster than we are going
to as it is!"
"No," Eric said, lowering his voice as he nodded at a small window across the
room.  "Listen! I recognize that window.  This room is at the top of the
castle, overlooking the main entrance and courtyard.  If Henry or any of your
other friends have defeated the guards successfully, at least some of them
will be right outside -- and right below us.  If we make enough noise, they
may hear us, and be able to get to us."
Diana looked at Eric, her eyes widening.
"Tell me, is there a particular thing we can yell so they will know it is you
and I?"
Diana smiled slowly.  "Yes, I believe there is."
Ti'amat heard their muffled whispers and swirled arounsd to face them.
"Silence!" she roared at them.
Diana's eyes twinkled as she matched Ti'amat's glare.  "Whatever you say, old
woman.  Whatever you say."

To be Continued