Okay this has been bugging me. I have this new idea about the Teen Titans in an AU, and it is going to be very cool!

Here are the characters as you might think:

Robin – Richard Grayson of Gotham, 22

Starfire – Kori Anders of Tameran, 21

Raven – Rachel Roth of Azerath, 21

Beastboy – Garfield Logan of the Jumplore (he was born there, duh!), 20

Cyborg – Victor Stone of Jumplore, 23

Kitten – Kitten Moth of Jumplore, 21

Red X – Xavier Redd of Jumplore, 22

More characters in later in chapters. Hopefully this comes out. . .

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The setting is in the early medieval times when war raged in Europe mainly between the ruthless Gordania and the peaceful but battle ready Tameran. The Gordanians have no allies because they are greedy and are too self-absorbed. Unlike their rivals, Tameraneans have multiple allies including Gotham, Azerath, Jumplore (Jump City), and Steelthon (Steel City). The Gordanian Empire is about the size of the Persian Empire during the time (about from modern day Germany to the south to Spain.) And the Tamaranian Empire is about the size of the Egyptian Empire (Ukraine size). Jumplore and Gotham is about the size of the UK. And Azerath is the size of Italy. Steelthon is about the size of Alaska.

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Richard Grayson

With the wind in my face and the sun beating down on my neck I ride on horseback. The colorless (black) horse – named Circus – trots on a narrow gravel road along a mountainside. He warily gallops trying to keep his footing as tiny bits of mountain fall under the extra weight. Circus snorts sharply as he moves along the road.

The scenery is magnificent. With the mountain to my left and an instant fall to my right, but beyond that is a large valley where vegetation thrives and a misty ominous fog lies upon the canopy. As the rode twists along the cliff I tighten my leather vest around me.

I wear a white paper thin cotton long sleeve shirt; The V-neck collar goes down to my sternum showing some of my collar bone and chest. The neck line is connected by three X-crisscrossing strings. My shirt's bloused sleeves allow free movement of my arms when I get into an altercation (which happens a lot) and is tied at the wrist. Above my shirt is my leather vest that I got from my mentor. The collar goes up to my chin when unfolded. On my left breast is a punched leather insignia in the shape of an R. My skin tight black leather pants goes down to my ankle, and meets my black boots at my knee.

I run my hand through my pitch black hair which falls freely on my neck and forehead. As the setting sun burns the back of my neck I catch sight of the sun's light pool into the valley. The rays of light seem to bleed on the trees and fog. The fiery colors of the light illuminate the rocks on the mountain side so they seem to be gems and silver clusters.

I pat Circus on his mane; he lifts his head in response. The bags on his back jingle and rustle behind me. I take in a breath of the cold and dry air, and exhale with frost and mist.

As me and Circus descend we meet trees and brush and we are consumed by the forest. As the fall breeze nips at my nose I hear something rustle in front of me.

Circus's ears fly in every direction and his footsteps cease to nothing. His breath and mine are the only things I hear in the timberland. My hand slowly feels for the hilt of my sword. As my eyes scan the woods, Circus suddenly moves again. With a gallop forward he trots to my destination.

. . .

As I come into a clearing of farms and sheds the sun is already half gone and Circus has slowed to an unfamiliar pace. With my ride slowing I search for an inn or an abandoned shed.

My head bobs up and down with tiredness and my eyes are getting heavier and heavier. As my eyes lower to the ground I find a familiar marking on the ground that shouts to me.

Precisely placed line of stones with a horizontal line carved into every other rock.

But not just any lines of stones, borderlines. I have now entered Jumplore. My destination.

With more determination than ever I so tenderly kick my heel into Circus's side. In response he lifts his head higher and quickens his pace. I sigh in relief has we approach the capital city of Jumplore. Wooden houses of adequate sizes crunch up onto each other. Outside of the houses spotted across the land are farms and farmhouses. Grain, Maize, Tobacco, every plant you can think of surround the capital. In the middle of the Capital is a large castle with four watchtowers on each of the square shaped castle's corners. The fortress' dark composer is opposite from the lively town below. The castle was made of a dark stone that consumed all the light around it. It seemed depressing. . .

I come up on the Capitals entrance, get searched from outside guards and ride on my way once I was cleared. Once I entered the actual town it seemed like I never left a couple of years ago.

The streets were lively as such, children played with hand crafted toys, adults laugh at nonsense jokes and dogs and cats chase each other. I smile remembering the last time I was here.

Flashback:

My young horse stops on an edge of a small cliff. I pat his head trying to calm him as he nears the steep fall.

"Whoa, whoa settle . . . Circus? Do you like that? Do you like that name?"

Circus, a little foal barely the age of 3, I was the age of 14 ride up to Jumplore for the first time.

"Amazing, isn't it," I nearly jump out of my skin as I hear the voice. After I regain my hide I soon recognized the voice. My mentor, Bruce Wayne rides up on my left. He is the finest knight in all of the lands in Europe. He has pitch black hair with blue almost grey eyes. He has a well-built frame under the armor he wears. On his breast is an insignia of a black bat. He is a firm teacher, although he cares about his pupils very much.

I soon here two other sets of horse's gallops come up at my right.

I turn my head to my right hand partners and answer: "Yes, yes it is, How about you Jason?"

"Whatever you say Richard," he says. That is Jason Todd for you. He is nearest to me. Although we don't see eye to eye, and usually argue about it, he is my brother of the sword and we would bleed for each other. He has strawberry-blonde hair that loosely hangs off of his head, with a white streak dangling in front of his face. With his green-blue eyes that pierce your soul, he always has a smug look on his face. And his face (yes the smug look) shows his scars on his face where the Jester (an enemy of ours) beat his face in with a club. The worst part is right side of his chin is indented and leaves a slight scar.

Next to him is the youngest of our brothers is Tim Drake. Two years younger than Jason and I he is the least experienced but he has a fire in his heart for what we do. Like me and Bruce, Tim has black hair he styles in a forward spikes with thin sides, almost in a buzz cut. His eyes are in a deep blue much darker than my own. He and Jason seem to get into every fight imaginable, yet every time we and Bruce fight enemies they seem to have each other's back. Tim's and Mine relationship is more relaxed, we get along great even with the age difference.

"Oh, shut up Todd, you know you like the scene." Tim snaps under his breath. Jason eyeballs Tim from abroad. I smirk under their childish bickering.

"Now let's go see Jumplore," Bruce said and we trotted down to the nation.

: End of Flashback

As Circus's footsteps echo down the street he seemed to be turning heads. With eyes glued onto me, I bow my head to every other person that makes eye contact with me. Parents shield their children away from me; women go back inside their houses and slam the shutters close.

What has happened to this place?

It used to be so lively, and free. Now . . . it's very depressing. The citizens seem scared of me! Richard Grayson, one the protégées of Bruce Wayne of Gotham; the furriest Knight in all of the land.

As I near my true destination the people run across the street to get to their houses and hide. Sweat rolls off of my brow, and I whip my hand onto my pants' leg. I scan for any sign of an attack since the citizens seem to fear me (which in many cases fear turns into mobs, and again it comes to me many times in the past). Circus finally senses the uneasiness, so he slows the unfamiliar pace I saw before. I gulp as I see one of the father's grab a pitchfork and glare at me.

. . .

I stop in front of a large draw-bridge. The bridge is casted in a dark metal and with spikes on the bolts. I smile at the unfortunate guards searching my bags and saddle. One of the three guards stops as he sees the hilt of my sword. His eyes widen as though he seen a demon.

"Sir Richard Grayson. . ." He states in astonishment. The other two cease their searches and glance at my hilt, they both gulp. I dig in my pouch, once I retrieve the object I seek I hand them it.

The lead guard opens the letter from the king, nods, and opens the bridge.

After I left Circus in the stables, I was escorted to the palace.

I enter through cherry wood doors with expert craftsmanship, it has wooden vines and leaves depicted on it. And the door handles were made of pure brass than contrasts with the wood.

My escorts were two women, one blonde and one brunette. Both were wearing no so modest clothing for servant girls. But hey I don't judge . . .

We enter the main hall, and wow. . .

The walls were pure marble stone with a mixture of brown and gold in it. Tapestries left to right were hung on the walls. Columns of (again) the pure stone held up the ceiling. And the floor, unlike the rest of the room, was regular stone.

As we travel further into the room we met mounted weapons of all sorts on the walls and on stands. Of all craftsmanship the weapons were marvelous and majestic. And there was a particular sword I was very fond of. The sword was made of pure silver for the blade, and the handle was made of a metal I did not know yet. Metal vines crisscross on the blade thinning out until it ends in a point. And at the end of the hilt was a dark blue gems that sparkled like no other. But what really gets me was the words in the middle of the blade.

Cum leonibus fiunt agni et agnae fieri leones

When lions become lambs, and when lambs become lions, it reads. Funny saying.

. . .

As we walk down more of the grand hallway, we come up on a stone door that is about the same color as the fortress stones. Then we enter.

There in the middle of the room was a golden throne, with red velvet cushion for the king. The walls were the same as the hall and the pillars were also the same. The only thing different was the tapestries were all black with painted on skulls. Two doors are on either side of the throne is most likely for the servants. Speaking of servants, the blonde and the brunette bow and back away once I enter the room. As I stare in amazement, I almost didn't recognize the trumpeters spewing out from the two doors. They were all wearing black and grey uniforms with bloused pants and tight fitting boots. Their corset-like shirts were engulfed in blackness and the sleeves were blood red. They lined up on the sides of the room making two lines altogether. The musicians stood stiff and were in dead-pan as they all lined up. Their instruments were long and narrow with a black and white flag at the end.

"I now pronounce His Majesty, the king of all of Jumplore, King Xavier Redd!" A person screams out of nowhere. The trumpeters raise their instruments to their mouths and blow. The tune echoed through the halls and bounced up and down with the melody. Once they were done they reclaimed the dead-pan look.

A guy, my age, steps into the room. With a scowl across his face, he enters triumphant and proud in his stance and crossed along the room toward the throne. His hazel eyes scan through the room as fast as lightening, however I got the slightest hesitation my way. Then a smirk stretched across his face as soon as I noticed.

I kneeled in my knightly manner, and bowed my head, avoiding his glare. I kept my stance longer than I suspected, knowing the rumors that circulated around the lands about his majesty not letting his people stand soon after, yet in hours; Hopefully, not in this case.

As the King sat lazily in his seat, he rested his chin on his knuckles. Running his fingers through his black unsettled hair, I noticed the slight jingle of chain-mail. My eyes glance as his clothes and I scoffed.

The king of Jumplore wore his armor within his castle and the city. Chain-mail made his sleeved shirt and a chest plate covered his breast. A skull (in fine art) was painted on the chest plate with an angel haired X crossed the skull's left eye. He also wears a colorless cape that use to flow to the ground and high boots that met at the thigh. Then I noticed the unmistakable scar running across his eye and mouth. It was long—with no doubt, with a pinkish hewing color.

Yet I stood my stance keeping my respect to the country and its young ruler.

"You may raise, Knight." With no hesitate second I obeyed King Xavier. I stood straight up gazing into the hazel eyes that ruled this once fabulous nation.

"Sir Richard, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." He said in a snarky tone. I remained dead-pan like the trumpeters. The king must have noticed my vague expression because he stood up and walked down the steps to me.

"You may relax knight I will not hurt you within these walls." He said with a hint of order in it. Once again I did what I was asked with no hesitance. I slumped my shoulders however keeping a watching eye on my employer.

Circling me he continued, "Do you know why I have required your assistance?" He folded his hands behind his back and kept walking around my figure.

"No, you're Majesty."

He bellowed out a laugh. "Oh, you knights are too amusing. So . . . regal and steady." He paused letting the words sink in. "The reason I have sent for you is because I have a pest in my forests. A thief. This thief has been plaguing my silver, gold, and crop trade to my castle and to my people. They must be stopped!"

His last sentence rang through the room, and his musicians seem to straighten up ever harder than before.

"But why me?" I ask trying to get more information on my mission.

"You? Well, isn't it obvious? You are one of the few knights that have trained with the great Bruce Wayne of Gotham . . . the Dark Knight. Plus you are his first protégé of the 3 he has. A great honor!" A dream like wonder filling his last sentence, slow and lingering.

"So you want me to catch this thief and kill them?"

"No, no, no, no! I want this thief alive! I want them to learn a lesson or two from me." Anger filled his words.

Silence then filled the air on a weird note. However I had one last question or two.

"If that is the case then why not another knight if you know where this person is? Why not send a troop to capture them?"

"You don't think I have done that? I have tried everything. From spies to some of the greatest knights of the lands. The fastest: Wally West of Central. The strongest: Conner Kent of Metropolis. I have attacked from every area imaginable. Land and sea! So, I thought. . . and came up with you."

"If that's the case. . ." I thought for a second.

"What, knight? Speak your mind."

"Then may I put together a same team for me to help with the expedition; someone who knows the area, to heal or help, and to have my back. A small, elite team."

"Do whatever to want, just bring me my prize," he growled. I took in the information and studied it. I was pleased to find it will have a suitable outcome.

"Just one more question, my lord." I asked emotionless.

"Fire away," Xavier said amused with my bickering.

"Which part of the forest do you want me to search for him?"

He laughed under his breath as if it was an inside joke. I was puzzled on the other hand.

"Do you mean: Which part of the forest do you want me to search for her?"

"Her?"

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End of chapter. So how is it? Good, bad, awful, amazing? Please comment and I will update as soon as I can.

A fellow writer,

Silver