Name's Robin, Robin Hood, specifically. I usually don't go around dropping my infamous name, but it seems that there needs to be a bit of clarification on who, exactly, I am. For example, I'm no forest-wandering, song-singing, bearded pretty boy. I got my humble start as a pirate, born and raised on the sea. That's how I've been getting from kingdom to kingdom so quickly; ship hopping, getting off at the next port, looking for the nearest corrupt monarchy, making things right through good old vigilantism.
That's another thing; I know stealing is kind of my trademark, but seriously? "Rob from the rich to give to the poor" seems to be all people think I do. I topple corrupt monarchies, for your information. Like that stiff who was ruling over Cantonesia a few years back? The one who liked to kill people if he so much as didn't like the way they looked at him? I never stole a gold piece from him, I just gave a few speeches to the right crowds and down he went. Yet everyone makes it out like I'd robbed the guy blind and he declared bankruptcy. Okay, so maybe I took a few gold pieces from his palace after we kicked his butt to give to my hosts (a brothel owner and her four girls, very nice people), but that's more of a footnote than the main event.
Do you know how skilled one has to be in order to be a proper vigilante for the whole world? I speak several languages (two of which are dead, but pah), know classical dances like the back of my hand, can beat any guard or sovereign in hand-to-hand combat, and am a skilled swordsman. Or, I guess, sordswoman. Yeah, take that, conclusion-jumpers! Your Robin Hood is a swash-buckling, sharp-tongued, ass-kicking woman with long brown hair and a curvy figure who stands at five foot six. Screw your societal stereotypes.
Oh, and Little John? Yeah, he's huge, but most of the trolls from his forest are about his size. For those of you who've caught glimpses of him, you saw right: guy's an inch shy of seven feet tall, blue-skinned, and has several teeth on the outside of his jaw. Those weren't fake, the guy was born that good-looking. Lucky bastard, am I right? I met Johnny a little while before my first kingdom revolution, and am I glad he didn't kill me. Believe it or not, behind that model-esque, toothy exterior lies a bleeding, squishy heart with soft spots for solving racial and social inequalities. I still remember the smile on his face when we escaped those palace guards in Syracuse, a smile filled with hope, excitement, and the start of an adrenaline addiction. Once we successfully got the new guy on the throne, the big guy followed me out of the city like a lost puppy, and we've been partners ever since.
After we got Syracuse back to it's equal self, we went on to stop Karona's former king from wiping out all the non-humans from his kingdom, putting his kind-hearted sons in charge of cleaning up the mess. After Karona was Lightenell, formerly the worst place to live if you had less than a castle to your name; and after that was Hyrule, which I'm proud to say now accepts people of all magical statuses. Then we cleared up that taxing problem in Nottingham (wherein I got my reputation, I suppose), and went on to stop the oppression of the people in Brunella. And now we're here, in Aerondelle, to stop the craziness that is King Orund.
If you haven't heard of this guy, I'm sorry to take you out of your magical forest of adorable woodland friends. There isn't a crime he hasn't committed: murder, beatings, over-taxation, army brutality, name a crime and he's done it at least twice. This guy rules over his terrified subjects through fearsome threats and egotistical tactics. Seriously, I'm surprised he can think of ideas this awful with all that hot air occupying that big head of his. He's got his people so scared they'll tell him anything or do anything for him to stop him from ordering the death of hundreds on a whim. Can you imagine what war room meetings are like? His butt must get chapped, what with all the kissing his generals need to do in order to stay alive.
So, yeah, I'm not his biggest fan, but from the looks of things, I'm not his biggest hater. Even my current hosts, the kindly Father Kohr and his nunly wife Margret, grumble angry obscenities (for church owners, anyway) about how horribly he's running the place. Of course, anyone brave enough to house a vigilante such as myself and a large troll companion such as John is probably not too afraid of the guy we're planning on overthrowing. That being said, in this case especially, John and I are extremely careful so as not get caught going back to our host's base camp, because it's difficult to find a place to stay when the last person whose couch you slept on got killed because of you. Right now it's just gathering information on our target: how he runs his palace, the weak spots, our possible allies on the inside, and whether or not his heirs subscribe to his way of thinking.
From what we've gathered so far, we've planned to attack the palace and make our first stand during his sons' "societal introductions." From what I've gathered, the princes have all been seen in society, doing princely stuff in their father's kingdom and going to social events outside of it, so I'm not quite sure why they need to be introduced. Sister Margret has tried to explain it to me, but it's gone over my head, mostly because it's a long explanation and I'm too busy worrying about making this rebellion successful to pay attention to something for more than three minutes. During this ball, the palace's usual count of guards, usually in the hundreds, will decrease dramatically to make room for all people of royalty and upper class from neighboring kingdoms. Can you say "cake"? And the icing, my being in the castle will be legitimate: the current benevolent ruler of neighboring Hyrule (whom I helped put on the throne) has agreed to let me be his arm candy for the night. John's okay with punching his way in, as per usual. I can't say I'm not a bit disappointed that I won't be getting in by way of the fist, foot, and sword myself, but them's are breaks.
Now, of course this isn't the first ball I've crashed, as a pirate I was taught how to blend in all situations and have taken full advantage of this skill as an equalizer, but I'm always uncomfortable in a skirt. It's hard to kick people in those things, let alone fight properly. And although my hostess is a master seamstress and has made the skirt from this gown detachable, it's still a skirt. But that's not a thing I need to be worrying about at this very moment, that's a thing to worry about when I'm at the ball, distracting whomever I need to distract. Yes, there's always one hole in our plan, and right now it's due to lack of princely info. Truthfully, getting the dirt on these guys is more difficult than usual, despite all the swoons they get, not a lot is known about the four princes of Aerondelle.
Here's what we do know: there's four of them. Two sets of twins, the younger pair being Michael and William. We have the most information on Michael, because he's apparently the baby of the family and as such does all of the public appearances that no one wants to do. According to most people he's talked to, -and he's talked to a lot of people- he's a bit on the dense side, but actually gives a crap about the people his father has scared into submission. William, from what we gather, is also kind and crap-giving, and is also a genius in all things that exist- hopefully an exaggeration- and the closest thing the kingdom has to an ambassador- when your king's an ass, you don't get a lot of foreign relations, surprise! However, despite the kindness they both exhibit, I'm pretty sure no one's attempted to talk to either prince about their father's being the spawn of evil itself.
The elder twins, Rafael and Eric, are of bigger concern. Not only have they not made any public appearances by themselves, leaving us with no idea as to whether or not they need to be taken down with their father, but they're both very much invested in the kingdom's very large and scary army. Eric currently calls all of the war-related shots of the army, and from the streak of wins Aerondelle's racked up, is an excellent coordinator and brilliant strategist. His twin, Rafael, is both the highest-ranking general of Aerondelle's army and is the weapons and hand-to-hand combat trainer for all personnel. This leaves us with the knowledge that Eric will probably be able to see two steps ahead of us and Rafael can definitely take us down before we see him coming. And I'm going to be in a room with these two in a skirt. The plan is looking a bit grim.
Okay, Robin, calm down. Johnny's talking to some soldiers right now, and he's getting all this good information about the princes and the security for the night of the ball. He'll be back soon, and he'll tell you all these good things and you're going to become very confident, even in a skirt.
I scoff at my own thoughts, I'm never confident in a skirt. I sit on my hands and look out of the window of my host's front room, which has a lovely view of the houses around it but John's not outside it so I can't really enjoy it because I'm very nervous. John doesn't show up after a few seconds and I become impatient, getting up from my seat and wandering into the kitchen, where Father Kohr is making soup and Margret is embroidering the evil skirt that I hate at the little table nearby.
"He's not back yet?" Father Kohr asks me nervously, wiping the steam off his glasses using his black shirt. He's a kindly middle-aged man with a full head of blonde hair and the most fantastic mustache I've ever seen. Whenever I get too nervous, I ask him a question about religion and watch it move while he babbles.
"Not yet Father," I shake my head, "what if they've double-crossed him?"
Sister Margret laughs, "Robin, sweetie," she looks up at me and motions me to join her, "they've already double-crossed the king, that's enough to prove them trustworthy."
"Not really," I say, crossing my arms, "the fact that they've already double-crossed someone gives them more motivation to double-cross again."
"Would that be triple-crossing or would it cancel the double-crossing out?" Margret asks, picking up the needle again and continuing the spirals on the skirt.
Father Kohr laughs, "All this talk of crosses, it's like we've never left the church!" We actually haven't left it the living space we're standing in is directly behind the church the Father preaches in, but I decide to not mention it.
We then hear the door open and my reflex of hiding myself causes me to startle a bit. Father Kohr looks up from the soup and Marget looks up from her embroidery as we hear the familiar trudging of John as he enters the living space.
"Hey," He calls out from the entryway, "what smells so good?" He has to duck through the doorway in order to get into the room, and pulls the hood of his large cloak off of his massive head to reveal a telling smile.
"Well, John, you look like you've gotten some good information," Margret starts, putting down the skirt and looking at me, "now what did I tell you?"
John gives me a worried look as he sits down next to me, "Tell you about what?"
"I was worried about you getting your slow butt arrested was all," I huff, "take longer next time, will ya? I don't think you scared me close enough to death."
John musses my hair, "Sorry, kid, I forget you're a woman sometimes."
I sock him in the jaw.
