The city had gotten sick. It choked on the misfortune caused by the selfish and the wicked. Thousands of people were homeless on a planet with enough housing to accommodate everyone, and meanwhile a greedy king sits on a throne in the centre of the city, guzzling expensive wine and stuffing his face with duck and gravy, whilst sending his sheriff out to do all of his work for him. A sheriff that didn’t care about the poor or the unfortunate. A sheriff that’s primary station in life was to keep the poor people out of the way so the rich and powerful could stay rich and powerful. The bums needed to be eradicated so that the city stayed strong and powerful. After all, if war came to the doorstep of Sherwood, strength would be needed – not scum.
Robin had seen the sheriff only once. He was older than Robin by years, but had thick black lengthy hair and a cold, pale face. He had beaten a beggar in the street who’d had the nerve to ask the sheriff for a dollar to buy an apple. The sheriff had smiled, turning on his heel and delivered a powerful kick to the beggars jaw before ordering two robot police officers to kill him. Robin had taken note of this. In time, they would meet but for now, Robin needed to train – and train he would.
Chapter two: An encounter in Sherwood Forest
Robin hiked through the thick forest outside the city wearing no mask on his face nor hood over his head.
Sherwood Forest was a place many city dwellers feared to tread, mostly because of rumours of wild men and cannibals... monstrous mountain men living in the wilderness that hunted people that stopped around the forest or that tried to flee the city. Robin had fought in the crusades. He had watched machines squash men with their metal hands, squeeze them with their metallic tentacles. He feared nothing anymore and had even built a small basic cabin in the wilderness to use as his hideaway. It was there that he would rest, but the wild would serve as his training ground.
Robin trekked through an opening in the forest, stepping into the tall, dark of the towering trees. It was midday and he stepped onward through the dense wild toward the sound of rushing water – a stream, which could only be crossed by a narrow bridge. The walk was hot as sweat dripped from his brow, Robin wiping it away with his sleeve and as he approached the stream, he heard the sound of a group of men laughing.
Robin froze, peering out from behind the trees and looking out. There were three men cooking over an open fire on the other side of the narrow bridge, the smell wafting over the stream made Robin's stomach grumble and he began to realise how hungry he was. Robin cautiously stepped out of hiding, stepping over to the bridge.
No sooner had Robin placed a foot on the bridge, did the largest of the three men – a tall and tough looking gentleman with a beard call out to him in warning.
“You can’t cross here, lad!” The man yelled and Robin stepped away from the bridge, looking up at the giant, a bearded man across the bridge that was barking orders at him.
“Oh? Why is that?” Robin called out to him and the three men laughed.
“This is our bridge! You want to cross it? You need to pay a tax,” The man laughed.
Robin smiled and shook his head. He had heard of men doing this type of thing in the city, but in the forest? Who did these guys think they were? Not only was Robin not paying to cross a bridge in this forest, but he certainly didn’t have any money on him.
“Well, I have no money, kind sir... so if you'll kindly allow me the right of passage,” Robin started but the giant man cut him off, picking up a long wooden staff off the ground.
“No money, ey? Well I guess you’re shit out of luck, my friend. For if you can’t pay me, you’ll need to fight me," the man yelled to him.
Robin smiled. He had to admit, he was starting to like this guy. Perhaps he would humour the man, who was easily twice his size. Robin stepped onto the bridge, cautiously stepping closer to the giant. The man was easily six foot four, maybe taller. Robin was around five foot seven, so clearly already the tall man had the advantage of height. He watched as one of the other men threw the giant a second wooden staff and the giant stepped closer to Robin, tossing him one of them. Robin caught the staff in both hands, studying it.
“I would seriously rather not fight you sir. I mean no one any harm," Robin said and the giant laughed, turning to his companions on the bank of the stream, who joined him in his laughter.
“What’s your name, lad?” The giant asked and Robin sighed.
“Robin Hood" Robin replied and the giant nodded his head.
“Well, I’m John Little and if you want to cross
