Arkham Through the Ages, Part II

Gotham, a small village in Nottinghamshire, England – 1192

It was spring, and the trees of Arkham Forest were a lush, leafy green, as the elusive English sun pierced through them like bright arrows of burnished gold. The sun had only just risen, and in the dim light of dawn, a man sat perched in the branches of a tree, keen green eyes scanning the forest floor for any signs of life, his bow notched and ready.

"C'mon, there's gotta be something," he muttered to himself. "Critters can't resist coming out on the one sunny day in this country."

His stomach rumbled loudly, and the man shushed it. "You're gonna scare away the food!" he snapped at himself. "I know you're hungry," he continued, looking around the forest carefully. "Everybody in this goddamn town is hungry. Heck, maybe the animals have all given up and left – even they know what a dump this place is."

He removed the green feather from his purple hat, and began to chew on the end of it carefully. "Or maybe they've gone off to join crazy King Dickie on his crusade," he continued. "Only an animal would be dumb enough to believe that was a good idea. Or so you would think. Apparently Dickie's raised quite an army by convincing 'em that God will reward them for their efforts. I tell ya, if I ever wanna convince people of anything, all I gotta do is tell 'em some invisible guy in the sky is gonna reward 'em, and they'll believe anything I say. Quite a joke, really. Quite a joke."

He spat out the feather, replacing it in his hat. "Mind you, the repercussions for England ain't been a joke," he muttered to himself. "You'd have thought King Dickie was bad enough, but now you've got his crazy younger brother in charge of things, taxing the people outta house and home in order to pay for Dickie's little God-approved adventure. From one ego-driven megalomaniac to another. I tell ya, this monarchy thing is vastly overrated. As is this whole feudal system, really. Dunno why the medieval period is considered such a romantic time. We're all starving to death, if we're not unfortunate enough to die from the plague first. There's no concept of hygiene, so everybody stinks, the food is awful, and our lives are short, brutal, and miserable. I sure hope things improve by the 21st-century, I tell ya." He thought for a moment. "Well, maybe the hygiene will, but the other stuff probably won't. Not much ever changes, and people are always the same, no matter what century they live in."

He heard a rustling in the undergrowth, and at that moment, a deer emerged from the bushes. The man drew in his breath sharply, drawing back the arrow. "Come to papa," he whispered, eyeing his line of sight along the arrow. He released the bow, and the arrow struck the deer full in the chest. It fell down dead.

The man cackled to himself, jumping down from the tree and dusting off his purple tunic and hose. "I eat tonight!" he exclaimed, happily. "And for the next couple weeks! Thank you, invisible guy in the sky – I'll never doubt you again," he chuckled, heading over to the deer and lifting the carcass over his shoulders.

He suddenly heard the pounding of horse hooves, and a second later, two guards bearing the royal insignia appeared in front of him. "Ho there!" called one, dismounting.

"What did you call me?" demanded the man in purple.

"Nothing so far, but I will call you a criminal, and a thief," snapped the guard. "What do you mean by killing the king's deer?"

"Hey, it's a free forest, pal!" snapped the man in purple.

"It is not!" snapped the guard. "Nothing in this kingdom is free. Everything is the property of King John, including the deer! You have no right to kill it, and you will be arrested and thrown in the dungeon for so doing!"

"Look, I'm just trying to not starve to death," retorted the man in purple. "If that means killing one or two of the king's deer, that's what I'm gonna do, and the king can lump it. I'm sure he has plenty more deer where this one came from, and he ain't starving to death. So I think I need it more than him."

"How dare you, insolent cur?!" demanded the guard. "How dare you speak of his majesty like that?! You were only to be arrested and imprisoned, but treasonous talk like that warrants an execution!"

"You wanna execute me for talking?" demanded the man in purple. "What is this, North Korea? You don't get it now, but that'll be a hilarious joke in about 900 years…"

"Arrest him," said the guard, gesturing to his companion. "And take the deer to his majesty to feast upon."

The man in purple dropped the deer carcass and had his bow out and notched in an instant. "You come any closer, and you're getting an arrow through your skull," he muttered at the guards.

"You wouldn't dare kill the king's men!" snapped the guard.

"Men, deer, it's all the same to me," said the man in purple, shrugging. "Except I don't eat men. Not until the king's taxes get higher, anyway."

The guard glared at him. "Who in heaven's name do you think you are, clown?"

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" snapped the man in purple, tilting his hat back so that his bleached white skin, grinning red lips, and bright green hair were revealed. "Folks call me the Joker. But I ain't joking about this. Get back on your horses, forget you ever saw this, and I'll let you live. But try to arrest me, and you're dead."

"If you kill us, there will be no forgiveness," snapped the guard. "You'll be an outlaw until the end of your days."

"To be honest, with the way law-abiding citizens are treated these days, I can't say being an outlaw is a particular threat," retorted the Joker. "Might make a nice change, actually. You take whatever freedom you can get when you live in a rigid little society like this, even if that freedom means you're on the wrong side of the law. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks that, actually. Now you can choose to be law-abiding citizens and die, or you can be outlaws and live. So what's it gonna be?"

The guards shared a look, and then drew their swords, racing toward him. The Joker fired off two arrows in an instant, both of which pierced their skulls. They were dead before they got two feet.

"I warned 'em," he sighed, slinging his bow back over his shoulder. He went over to examine the bodies, and removed their admittedly small pouches of gold from around their waists. "Every little helps, as the saying goes," he said, pocketing them. "Now, what am I gonna do with the evidence?" he asked himself, hands on hips. "I guess I could go through all that effort of burying the bodies, but frankly I'd rather leave 'em here as a warning to other busybodies who wanna poke their nose in my business."

He nodded. "To be honest, that outlaw shtick actually sounds pretty good," he said. "And where better place to be one than here in Arkham Forest? Out among nature, safe from the prying eyes of the law. And a forest is a great place for an ambush in case any more troublemakers come my way."

He nodded again. "Hey, thanks for the idea, pal!" he said, slapping the dead guard on the back. "This new direction in my life could be just what I need! A fresh start, with a new identity. Instead of the Joker, I'm now gonna be Robbin' Joker. Get it, Robbin' Joker?"

He cackled madly to himself, and it echoed around the forest. "Yes sir, I think this'll do nicely," he said, picking up the deer again and heading off into the woods.