Subject: D&D Cartoon Newsletter Via E-Mail, Part 4!

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Now, for our next story...
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 2 of:

HENRY HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES
Part 2: Revelations
                                                *

"Henry?  Henry?"  Henry opened his eyes slowly as he heard his name repeated
over and over again.  Henry rolled over on his mat as he tried to blink the
drowsiness from his eyes.
"What is it?"  Henry asked sleepily as he stood up.
The other voice belonged to old Alfred, who had known Henry since the day he
was born.  "Master Henry, you have visitors."
Henry yawned and pulled on his green leather cloak over his brown shirt,
looking over the hills at the sun that was just beginning to make its journey
towards midday.  "I thought that Friar Lorne was not arriving from town until
this afternoon."
Alfred sifted cautiously through one of the many piles of clothes that
littered Henry's small treetop cottage. "No...no, it is not Friar Lorne,"
Alfred said as he pulled one of Henry's old noble uniforms from underneath the
large heap of clothing.  "May I suggest that you change into this shirt
instead, sir?"
Henry raised a suspicious eyebrow at Alfred as he changed from the brown shirt
into the much more ornate uniform shirt.  "Why on earth do I need to wear
this, Alfred?"  He smiled sarcastically.  "Has the Royal Family come to visit
us?"
"Actually," Alfred smiled, "actually sir, yes, they have."
Henry ran to the small arched window in his hut and looked down at the village
center in amazement. Standing with her young brother in the middle of a
suspicious crowd was the very same young woman he had seen less than a day
before.
Grabbing his cloak and throwing it on in one swift movement, Henry raced
towards the cottage door.  Alfred couldn't help but smile in amusement at the
young man he'd known for almost twenty years.  Henry had changed so much, he
thought -- after all that had befallen him after his return from the Holy
Lands, he had learned to grow up much faster than a young man of eighteen
summers should have to.  In fighting his fight against Venge and taking on the
responsibility of all the people who lived in this haven in the woods, Henry
shouldered a burden of leadership that most men three times his age would
shudder at.
Henry looked back at Alfred, a twinkle in his eye as he smiled.
"How do I look, Alfred?"  Henry smiled, smoothing out his shirt and cloak.
"Like a prince, sir," Alfred smiled.  "Like a prince."
Henry grinned at Alfred, took a deep breath, and opened the cottage door.  As
Alfred followed him slowly down the stairs to the forest floor, he shook his
head and chuckled to himself.  Henry had always asked Alfred questions that he
knew Henry himself already knew the answer to -- not consciously, of course,
at least not most of the time, but Alfred knew that all Henry needed was a
reminder to know all he needed to get himself through any situation he
encountered.
The old man smiled.  No matter how terrible things got for him, some things
about Henry would never change.
Thank goodness for that.

                                                *

Sheila's face lit up in relief as Henry made his way through the curious crowd
around her.
"Thank goodness you are here," she smiled at him.  Henry smiled back at her
and winked at Robert, who grinned broadly.
"I am happy to see you again, m'lady," Henry beamed.  "I hope you had no
problems in getting here."
Sheila and Robert looked at each other, suppressing giggles, as Preston walked
up next to Henry.  "It is interesting that you brought up the word 'problem',
Henry, because..."
Diana smirked as Michael and Joseph helped their wounded comrades through the
crowd.  "It looks as though the young royals are hiding a secret from us."
Henry looked over at his injured comrades, then back at Sheila and Robert.
"You mean to tell me that you two?  But how?"  Henry tilted his head to one
side in confusion.
Sheila nodded.  "It's true we are royalty, but since the death of our father,
the King's brother, we've had to learn a little about defending our lands for
ourselves."
"A LITTLE?" Henry heard Preston snort under his breath.
Henry turned to face Preston, his arms crossed, with a look of mock irritation
on his face.  "Since you are so talkative today, Preston, perhaps you'd like
to explain why my men attacked a woman and a young boy?"
Preston gulped nervously.  "Well, Henry, you see, she wasn't a she, she looked
like a he.  And I couldn't see...."
Henry snorted out a laugh, joined by Diana, as Preston fumbled -- and
inadvertently rhymed -- his way through an explanation.  Soon the whole group
was roaring in laughter.
Preston's face became as crimson as his spellbook's cover.  "I am glad
everyone finds this so very amusing," he muttered.
Henry patted Preston on the back.  "You did a good job in getting them here
safely, Preston, and for that, I am very grateful."  Preston managed a small
smile, and Henry turned back to Sheila.  "To what do I owe the honor of this
visit?"
Sheila looked nervously at her brother.  "I mean no disrespect, uhm...forgive
me, but what shall I call you?"
You may call me anything you wish, Henry almost blurted out, then swallowed
back the thought as he replied, "We know no titles here.  You can call me
Henry."
Sheila smiled.  "You may do the same for us as well."  She looked back down at
Robert.  "Henry, we mean no disrespect to the rest of your people, but it is
of utmost urgency that we speak with you in private."
Henry looked behind him at Preston and Diana, who appeared as if they were
just about to say something in response.  Henry shook his head and gave both
of them a reassuring look.  Preston nodded, but Diana continued shaking her
head, looking down.  They are worried about me, and rightfully so, Henry
thought.  The reward on Henry's head had been brought up exponentially with
every attack he made on the kingdom's financial resources, and a cunning
individual who could make his -- or her -- way into the camp and capture him
would be a wealthy person indeed.  But that was not the case here, and Henry
knew it with all his heart.
Henry offered his arm to Sheila, who took it with a smile, and turned to
Preston.  "Preston, I will meet with Lady...," he smiled as he realized what
he'd done, "I mean, Sheila and her brother in the main meeting hut."  He
looked at Diana.  "You may post guard outside if you feel the need to."  Henry
looked at Robert, who was digging through a small saddlebag of food he was
carrying.  By the looks of it, the boy had eaten almost all the contents
already.  "And make sure to set two more places for our midday meal."
Robert smiled in gratitude as the trio made their way to the central cottage.

                                                *

"I am sorry if we have caused any inconvenience for you by coming here,
Henry," Sheila said as she sat down across from him.
"Not at all," he said as he pulled up a chair to the table.  "I am sure you
would not have come were it not a matter of vital import."
"It is, it is," Sheila said nervously.  "It involves you, me, Robert -- the
entire kingdom, for that matter."  Sheila swallowed hard, and Henry felt a
wave of compassion for her.  To become head of a household -- especially a
royal or noble one -- to become responsible for all those under your care --
threw a young person into a world more foreign than any land they could ever
journey to.  It was difficult for Henry, that was for certain -- at times, he
wondered how he did it.
Sheila continued on.  "Venge has summoned a high council meeting with Kelek
and Warduke.  About you."
Henry sat back in his chair.  He knew from the very beginning that it was only
a matter of time before Venge would order his two most loyal -- and skilled --
men back from the warfront in the South and on the Continent.  This was
disturbing news, indeed.  "How did you discover this information?"
"We were in the throne room when Venge ordered his knight to..." Sheila
stopped.  "The knight -- Sir Eric -- he was in the carriage yesterday -- he
saw you...."  Her face drained of color.
"What?  What is it?" Henry said, placing a reassuring hand over hers.
"Sir -- Sir Eric was there this morning, when we tried to leave so early that
no one would take notice of us.  I do not think that he suspected anything --
we told him we were picnicking today....but if he were to become suspicious
and check to see where we were, surely he would figure out that we went
to...."  Sheila pulled her hand away from Henry's and flew out of her chair.
"I am endangering you and all your people, I should not have come.  We must
leave at once, before he suspects anything."
Robert couldn't sit still a moment longer.  "But Sheila, if we return to the
castle, we are as good as dead!"
Henry's eyes widened at this statement, and took Sheila's arm reassuringly.
"Dear lady, even if that bumbling, thick-headed knight were to suspect where
you went, he would never find us.  We are well protected," he continued with a
pointed look, "with the notable exception, of course, from you and your
brother."  He looked directly at Sheila.  "Most importantly, though, I will
not allow either one of you to return to Venge's castle -- especially after
what Robert just said."
Sheila looked down at Robert.  "You were not supposed to tell him that."
Robert sighed.  "But Sheila, Venge told us that he will not let us go home!
And if Eric starts talking about where he thinks we have gone, we will be dead
for sure!"
Robert smiled at Henry.  "But with Henry's help, we can beat Venge.  Then we
can go home."  Robert looked at his sister.  "Father would have wanted us to
stand up and fight, Sheila."  He sat down confidently.  "And I am going to."
Henry looked at Sheila again.  "Sheila, you risked quite a bit in coming here
to warn us, and I am very grateful.  You must allow me to return the favor in
kind. I do not care what wrath it brings upon my own head -- I will not allow
you and your brother to return to Venge."  He sat back in his chair again.
"My men can have a treetop cottage assembled for both of you by day's end."
Sheila looked at Henry and shook her head.  "Henry, this is not your fight.
The anger you shall bring down from Venge upon yourself if you keep us here is
immeasurable.  I cannot allow it."
"If Venge is to attack us full force with the return of Kelek and Warduke,
than it will not matter either way," Henry said.  "The time is now.  You
cannot stop it, I cannot stop it."  He looked into her eyes deeply.  "It is
destined to be.  And you are safest here with us.  I will not hear any more to
the contrary."
Sheila looked at him and raced out of the hut, startling Diana, who peeked her
head in, her sword drawn.  "Is there a problem, Henry?" she asked.
Henry sighed at Sheila's retreating form.  "Yes, Diana, there is," he frowned.
"More than you can ever know."

                                                *

"Good Robert, good," Henry patted the young boy on the back as he swung his
club to deflect the quarterstaff of one of Henry's training men.  "It doesn't
look as if you need a bit of training from us. You have a natural talent for
this weapon."
"It has always been my favorite," Robert grinned.  Suddenly a loud grumble
interrupted them.  "Is it time for lunch already?"
Henry smiled at the boy, who always seemed to be thinking about his next meal.
"Yes," Henry said.  "See that lady over there?  Her name is Marion, and she is
about to become your new best friend."
Robert looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Because she is the cook," Henry grinned at him.
Robert tossed his club aside and started running towards the smiling woman,
calling out, "Hello, Marion, I'm Robert!!!  I just got here!  What are you
cooking?!?!?"  His voice faded as he ran to the other side of the village.
Where has she gone? Henry thought as he turned towards the forest.  None of
Henry's perimeter guards had seen her, so he knew that she was still in the
forest, somewhere.  Robert said that it was something that Sheila always did
when something was upsetting her.  It was as if she became an apparition, not
to be found until she chose to be.
"Henry, are you not eating?" Marion called out worriedly.
"I will be back in a little while," Henry called back, heading in the
direction where he had last seen Sheila.

                                                *

Henry walked this path often, and he could see from the freshly scattered
leaves that someone else liked it as well.  He knelt down and looked at the
footprints.  She can't be too far ahead of me, Henry thought as he pushed a
small branch of foliage out of his way.
"Please leave me alone," a female voice called out.  Henry's head whirled
around as he tried to pinpoint the direction it came from.
"I most certainly will not," Henry stated.
"Why are you doing this?" it demanded again.
"Doing what?" he smiled, and whirled around the trunk of a large oak tree
nearby, startling Sheila.
Sheila breathed deeply.  "You frightened me."
"You frightened me by running off," Henry said.  Sheila looked at him deeply,
her aquamarine eyes questioning him, then turned and started walking away.
Henry walked after her.
"What is it, Sheila?  What upsets you so?  I am sorry if you do not want to
stay, but I could not live with myself if anything ever happened to you
because of me."  She turned to look at him.  "And Robert as well, of course,"
he added quickly.
"And I cannot live with myself for bringing you and your people into my and
Robert's fight," Sheila said, her jaw locked stubbornly.
"What fight?" Henry ran in front of her to face her.  "Robert mentioned
something about not returning to your home.  Was Venge forcing you to stay
with him?  Why?  Why would you stay?"
Sheila's eyes began to well up with tears.  "Please do not ask me, dear sir,
for I cannot bear to answer."
What could have happened?  Henry wondered as he looked at Sheila, who wiped
away her condemning tears and picked up her pace as she walked away from him.
Then the realization hit him.
"Venge killed your father, didn't he?" Henry said softly.
Sheila stopped in her tracks, her shoulders heaving with tears.  "Yes," she
said almost in a whisper, her back still turned to him.  "Yes, he did."  She
turned to look at him.  "We were told that Father died while on a diplomatic
mission to the Continent, but we knew better.  Venge and his men were the ones
who escorted him, and came back completely unharmed.  How could it be that one
unarmed man dies in an enemy attack, yet the twenty armed men who are supposed
to protect him are unscathed?"  Sheila was wiping more tears furiously from
her face.  "I tried to tell my uncle, but much as he loved my father, he would
not hear of it. Venge was his prized captain, whom he had trained himself, he
could do no wrong.  By the time I had enough evidence to prove it was Venge
who did it, to prove to him that Venge killed my father so that he could
position himself as the next in line for the throne in the chain of command,
the King was already off to the Holy Lands, and Venge was in charge."  Henry
walked towards her.  "I was not seven and ten when my father died, Henry --
sixteen summers! -- and as soon as the King left, all those 'brave' men who
had been assigned to protect our people left for better opportunities -- with
Venge.  Robert was only eight, and we knew nothing about running our father's
lands, much less protecting them!"  Sheila's tears stopped as she looked out
into the forest, her eyes cold.  "With only a few of my father's most loyal
men left, we had to learn fast."
"I did it to protect my people, Henry," Sheila said as he came even closer to
her.  "I had no choice.  He would have killed us all.  I could not let that
happen.  Had it been me, I would rather have died than become an ally of
Venge.  But it was not only me.  What else could we have done? What else could
we..." her voice trailed off as he embraced her.
"Nothing will happen to you or Robert or to any of your people, that I swear
to you," he said softly.
They stood together for a long time, wrapped in each other's comforting
embrace, until Sheila looked up at him and said quietly.  "Venge -- Venge did
something terrible to you as well.  Your hatred for him outdistances even my
own."
Henry sighed heavily.  "We have more in common than either one of us ever
realized, dear lady," she said.  "I have a story of my own to tell you --
about me, my own father, and Venge."

                                                *

This is most certainly the worst idea in all the history of worst ideas, Eric
mumbled to himself as he urged his horse onward down the dark forest path.
The large bay stallion snorted and pawed the ground uneasily as they continued
farther down the path.
Even the horse knows that these woods are haunted, Eric gulped.  Shaking his
head to clear out his frightened thoughts, Eric turned his attention to the
task at hand.  Judging by the tracks he'd seen farther down, Sheila and Robert
had come this way no more than a few hours ago.  Eric's head spun as he heard
a noise behind him.  He didn't know why he was so paranoid.  If one of Venge's
men was tracking him, he could just come up with the excuse
that....that....that Henry Hood had kidnapped Sheila and Robert for ransom.
Or that he was returning to personally avenge the previous days' insult.
Or...
As if Venge would even take the time to listen, Eric admitted to himself.
Venge didn't need much of a reason to do anything these days.  Venge was not
always as bad as he had been of late, Eric knew.  He remembered back to that
day two years ago when Venge and the King bestowed the honor of the knighthood
upon him, as had been earned by his father and his father's father before him.
It was a long-standing tradition in the Montgomery noble line that the sons
must not only be distinguished and wealthy, but brave and skilled as well.
Eric always knew that the first part would never be a problem.  Eric had
always had an acumen for making money -- and lots of it.  From a very young
age, Eric had proven himself again and again to be the shrewdest of
tradesman, and could read what buyers and sellers needed and wanted as easily
as he read a book.  Eric was certainly the pride of his lineage in the respect
of money and prestige.
It was the other part that gave him problems.
Eric had always hated fighting, even as a youngster.  When older boys would
begin to pick fights, Eric would use his wit and argumentative skills, not his
strength, to get himself out of a situation that would have otherwise resulted
in a lot of pain.  When his father had started Eric on his path to knighthood,
employing experts in every field of weaponry and battle to teach him, Eric
just got better and better at getting out of doing what he was supposed to do.
It was also at this time when Eric learned one important principle: money does
indeed talk.  In retrospect, Eric was ashamed that he had done it, true -- but
he had used his money in his trust to buy off every single instructor that his
father sent his way, sometimes doubling the amount that his father had already
paid them.  Needless to say, Eric passed every test with flying colors.
Knighthood was easy after that.  Luckily, he did not have to enter any
tournaments, so glowing were the recommendations of his former teachers.  If
it had been necessary to enter the tournaments, Eric knew that he would have
failed in the very first round for certain.  But good fortune had somehow
chosen to smile upon Eric, and the coveted title had sailed into his hands.
Once he was given the title, Eric decided to remain at court longer than he
had to.  There was something about the pomp and pageantry that made Eric feel
very much at ease -- almost like he should be there and not at his own home,
doing what the other nobleman of the country were doing.  But it had proven to
be a very dangerous place to stay.
As more and more knights were drafted into the Crusader corps, Eric became
better and better at making himself more indispensable at court.  Taking
charge of the Royal Palace Guards, assembling the Noblemen's Officer Corps,
and most recently, escorting members of the Royal Family on official
excursions.  But even Eric knew that at some point, his luck would run out,
and he would be sent to the warfront to fight alongside the other knights.
And that, as they said, would be the end of that.
Eric gulped at the very though of armed combat as he and his horse rounded the
corner over the hill that was only about two hundred feet away was the spot
that Henry Hood had stopped their carriage yesterday.
"I must be out of my mind!" Eric said to himself.  He was tossing everything
away by doing this, he knew.  Yet, perhaps things were already gone anyway.
The kingdom had been in chaos since Venge assumed the throne nine months past,
with warring factions to the North and South, and it only had seemed to be
getting worse of late.  Whatever little patience Venge had ever possessed had
long since been depleted, and Eric knew he had no inclination to listen to his
excuses -- whether it was about him going into Henry Hood's forest, or why he
let the Royals out of his sight earlier that day.
"Oh, bea-U-teeful day!" Eric heard a voice exclaim above him.  Eric felt a
whish of air above his head, and blinked in surprise as two of Henry's men
dropped out of what seemed like thin air.  One of the guards approached Eric's
horse.  "You know, Jacob, I have been in want of a new steed.  Just like this
one.  How convenient that Venge delivers the things we need right to our
door!"
The older man next to him, whom he had called Jacob, chuckled.  "Perhaps he is
finally getting the message, Will."
Eric cleared his throat, astonished that they had not had even acknowledged
his presence.  "Pardon me, but I'm looking for Lady MacGregor and her younger
brother."
The men started blankly at him.
"Is he talking to us?" Jacob smirked.
"I don't remember including him in our conversation," Will snorted, then
turned back to Eric.  "What was it you wanted again?"
Eric snorted impatiently.  "I said -- I am looking for Lady MacGregor and
her..."
Jacob smiled.  "I can see why you would be looking for her, laddie.  She is a
true beauty.  A man would die for a woman like that, that's for certain."
Will flipped out a sword and eyed Eric.  "A man could die for other reasons,
too, you know."
Eric began sweating profusely.  "I am not trying to start any trouble.  I am
in charge of her Ladyship and her brother, and if anything happened I would
be..."
"Oh," Jacob smiled.  "You've lost her, then?  Pity.  Well, we have not seen
her today.  Good day."
"I know she came here," Eric stated flatly. Did these two think him a fool?
"Do you want to take care of this?" Jacob asked Will.
Will flipped his sword back and forth absently.  "That is quite all right, my
friend.  I got the last one, remember -- two days ago?"
"Ah..." Jacob smiled as he looked at Eric.  "I had forgotten."  He looked over
Eric's shoulder.  "We'll let Marcus take care of it, then."  He waved at Eric
dismissively.
Who's Marcu......, Eric couldn't complete the thought as he felt someone slam
into him from behind, and lost consciousness.

                                                *

"Sire, this is a most pressing matter," the wispy man known only as Shad Dem
said as he helped Venge put on his heavy ceremonial armor.  "I wish I could be
of more assistance."
"You are of great assistance nonetheless, Shad," Venge said as he admired
himself in the mirror.  He had never been a handsome man -- he knew that many
people said behind his back that he must have been born looking stern and
unhappy.  Although he was not an old man, Venge had long since lost all but a
few sparse patches of the hair he had possessed in his youth, and was forced
to wear a cowl  -- or in this case, an ornate helmet -- to cover up his
deficiency.  But with all these faults, Venge still knew he could strike fear
into the hearts of anyone he wished, especially in his heavy battle armor.  He
liked that very much.
Shad walked over the door of Venge's chambers and picked up Venge's battle
gloves and the cloth coat of arms banner that went over the front of his suit
of armor.  "Well, come to think of it, sire, I do have a suggestion that may
help you."
"Well?  What is it?" Venge hissed.  He was not, and had never been, a patient
man.
"You need to gain favor with the Northern nobles, sire, and so far, you have
not been able to?  I can think of one way you can."  Shad smiled slyly. "You
can marry one of their own and make her your Queen."
"What good would that do?" Venge snorted.  "The Northern noblemen would bicker
over whose daughter would marry me and become the Queen.  It would solve
nothing, only make them fight amongst themselves even more than they already
do."
"I did not mean a nobleman's daughter," Shad continued.  "I had someone far
more important in mind."
"Who?" Venge asked.
"Sheila MacGregor -- the King's niece." Shad smiled.  "Marrying the King's
niece would give you credibility in the royal line with those in the South,
and since the King's family hails from the North, and Lady MacGregor resides
in her estate there -- she is adored there, Highness -- you would most
certainly win their approval by marrying her."
Venge pulled on his gloves as he considered Shad's suggestion.
"She is quite lovely to look at as well, Sire.  You would have most pleasing
children together."
"It is true -- I will be in need of an heir," Venge nodded slowly.
"It will solve all your problems, Sire," Shad smirked.  "You will win the
respect of the South, and the adoration of the North, and you will begin what
will most undoubtedly be the greatest royal line in all of history."
"Very well," Venge smiled, his teeth peeking out of the edges of his mouth,
almost like fangs.  "Fetch her and bring her to the throne room this evening."
Venge straightened out his cloth armor banner and took one last admiring look
at himself in the mirror.  "What a lucky woman she will be, Shad."  With that,
Venge left the room.
"Of course, Sire," Shad said, as he all but disappeared into the shadowy
hallway behind him.

                                                                         *

Watch for Part 3 in the next issue!  Woo hoo!

******************************************************************************
********

OH MY -- SAKES ALIVE!  HERE'S WHAT'S COMING UP IN ISSUE FIVE!

*Our second-annual DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS CARTOON POLL!  (in case you might have
missed the first one!)
* Tune in for Part 2 of "Return of the Dreamer" and Part 4 of "Lambs Among
Wolves", and Parts 3 and 4 of Mike Bugg's Warduke story!
* And coming up in our Elseworlds corner: Part 2 of "Players" and Part 3 of
"Henry Hood: Prince of Thieves!"