Chapter One: A Fox Hunt
Sitting on top of the bridge that ran over the large river that was required of all major cities to possess, Darkwing Duck looked out over the city of St. Canard as the evening hours turned into night, watching and waiting for signs of misdeed. It had been a slow day for Darkwing, mostly because Drake Mallard kept getting in the way, having gone to a hockey match for Gosalyn, a baptism for Launchpad, and four hours at a desk job he despised. It was a wonder that Darkwing even considered fighting crime that day; but he felt that he had an obligation to the city to be the one everyone went to when they needed something, and so he sat on the top of the bridge, watching the skyline and the last rays of the setting sun.
"You know this would be peaceful" Darkwing said to himself, "If the night wasn't looming with danger. It's funny how everything seems so quiet just before things get hairy. The calm before the storm."
It was then that a pigeon roosted on top of Darkwing's hat, so still was he that he was almost statue-like. Strangely, Darkwing did not mind, in fact he actually enjoyed the company, if only to have someone to talk to so that he wasn't talking to himself the entire time as he waited for something to happen.
"How long does it take for a crime to happen?" Darkwing continued, "Statistically speaking a crime happens every minute and a half. If that's true that there should never be a shortage of work. The police can only do so much, so that leaves me, Darkwing Duck, to pick up the pieces."
It wasn't long until Darkwing, bored from doing nothing, decided to patrol the streets. Driving his motorcycle down the bridge and unto the street, Darkwing thought about what he was missing at home- if Gosalyn would ever come to resent him, if Drake Mallard would ever live to surpass him, and if he would ever what most people have. Darkwing hoped against hope that Gosalyn would always see him as a father first and a crime fighter second, he hoped that eventually, when Darkwing was no longer needed, that Drake would take over, surpassing him and becoming more important that he himself ever could be; and perhaps, when Darkwing had run his course, once again becoming Mallard, that he would have what others had.
Darkwing, his mind clouded and troubled, his mind constantly returning to Gosalyn and thoughts of home, pulled over to the curb and proceeded to turn around unable to bring himself to do any work.
"St. Canard will just have to take care of itself tonight" Darkwing continued, speaking mostly to himself, "I've got places to be."
In a fashion that is so predictable is it almost sad, no sooner did Darkwing manage turn himself around did he hear a cry for help a few blocks away. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Darkwing, if only to satisfy his own egotism while it still existed, turned his bike around for the second time, heading towards the sound.
Seven blocks down a robbery was in progress, the perpetrator, a common thug, was casually waving a gun in the face of a woman and her son, a pillow sack in his hand.
"Come on" the thug exclaimed, "Hand it over and we can forget this ever happened."
At this moment four things happened simultaneously: the woman and child screamed; an arrow whizzed through the air, hitting the thug's hand and bringing him down to the ground; the shooter appeared; and Darkwing Duck's motorcycle revved up, closing in.
The shooter, who remained in the shadows in an effort to conceal its identity, notched an arrow, pointing it directly at the thug's head, who trembled in fear at the prospect of dying.
"Please, don't kill me" the thug pleaded, "I'm too young to die."
The shooter loosened up, appearing to let down its guard.
"I wouldn't waste the ammo" the figure replied, in a male voice, turning around and aiming down the street; the arrow hitting the direct center of the road, which Darkwing's motorcycle ran directly into, comically flipping over, resulting in the mallard to somersault through the air as if he were in a circus only to land on his face.
Darkwing, shaken but not deterred, stood and faced the bleeding criminal with all the seriousness he could muster at the moment, trying to maintain the scene that had been playing inside his head. He turned towards the thug and began his usual routine as if nothing had happened.
"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the batteries that are not included!"
The shooter meanwhile, had other immediate concerns, his attention dedicated to the woman and child. Holstering his bow, the shooter made a slow and careful bow, taking off the hat that he had been wearing.
"My good lady" the figure replied, a slight British accent showing, "I hope I didn't startle you and your son."
The woman, surprised by the shooter's elegance, shook her head in disagreement and pulled her son close.
"Not at all" the woman continued, "Thank you kind sir. God bless you."
The figure straightened himself and returned his hat to his head. He casually glanced over at Darkwing, who was busy standing over the thug, attempting to tie him up with his grappling hook rope.
"You might want to clear out of here" the figure exclaimed, motioning in the opposite direction, "Do you require an escort?"
The woman shook her head and smiled sheepishly. Without another word, she took her son by the hand and made her way down the street. The figure looked after her, bothering himself to watch until she had rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight, he then turned back to Darkwing and the now roped criminal.
"Do you always make everything into an entrance?" the figure asked, not really sure how to begin, "Save the theatrics for the children if you must but when it comes to taking down criminals, it's your job to be professional."
Darkwing raised his eyebrows at this and folded his arms, insulted beyond comprehension. Last he checked, no one told him how to do his job, especially mysterious shadows with bows and arrows.
"And who exactly do you think you are telling me how to do my job?" Darkwing exclaimed, "You're hiding in the shadows and shooting arrows into people, what does that say about you?"
The figure laughed and waved him off, for he had obviously heard of better comebacks.
"It means I'm efficient" he answered in turn, "And that I do what I must to protect the people of this once good and proud city. What about you? What are you really doing Darkwing? Are you really helping these people, shouting your name into the sky, or are you making yourself an easy target?"
The figure then turned and jumped onto the roof of the nearest car. Notching a roped arrow and firing it onto the roof of the nearest building, he quickly propelled himself up the side. Darkwing, curiosity and slight rage getting the better of him, followed suit, cutting the middle man out of the equation and simply using his grappling gun to reach the rooftop leaving the criminal for the local police to tend to.
By the time Darkwing reached the roof, the rising moon had made its way through the clouds, providing sufficient light for visibility. In addition, without the protection of the shadows that the buildings provided, Darkwing could easily identify the mysterious figure, or at least, put a face to the shape. The figure was a fox of medium build in an all green leather bound suit with a hat, not unlike his own but subtler, donning a red feather. The bow was made out of stern wood, and the quiver that rested on the fox's back, of hide. The gloves, interestingly, were made out of steel with a leather outer skin, presumably for fashion, the tips of each finger sporting metal claw extensions in the event of melee combat. It was obvious to Darkwing that whoever this fox happened to be had taken his vigilantism to the extreme.
"Who are you?" Darkwing asked bluntly.
The fox, who was also masked, sighed and gently removed it, seeing no point in making any effort to hide from Darkwing, as if he were giving up before he even fought.
"I am known by many names" the fox replied, "All of them horrible, all of them media creations- the Green Avenger, the Masked Archer, the Shadow, Fox, Michael Surly, and Johnathan Brisby-"
The fox paused for a moment, as if weighing his options, for no other reason he put his mask back on his face and continued, if only for dramatic effect.
"But since you asked and seem so eager; my name is Robin Hood."
Darkwing noticed that Robin said his name as if it was supposed to carry some significance, it did not. Instead it only added to the mystery, specifically, why he was in St. Canard at all and not someplace where he could be useful, for his skill seemed undeniable. The mallard paced and pondered for a few moments, trying to think of the proper thing to say or do. Robin Hood, seeing this, could only smile and laugh to himself, amused that Darkwing would take the time to think about such matters.
"Try starting with your name Darkwing" Robin advised.
Darkwing stopped, he failed to see the point in this, especially since Robin already knew it, but for the sake of simplicity and not knowing what else to do, Darkwing complied, straightening himself out and shaking Robin's hand.
"Darkwing Duck" he said with a slight tip of the hat, trying to earn hospitality points, "What brings you to St. Canard? This is my turf."
Robin turned away, his gaze towards the city-scape, his stance ominous and bleak, almost as if he commanded the clouds to block the moon, which conveniently, disappeared behind the overcast.
"It's complicated" Robin answered, "Nothing to concern yourself with, it's a personal matter."
Darkwing, uncomfortable with the sudden seriousness, laughed and casually came up behind the fox, slapping him on the back, for if it was one thing that Darkwing hated more than anything it was unnecessary brooding.
"Come on it's not that bad" Darkwing exclaimed, trying to be encouraging, "Things could be worse."
Robin scoffed, for not only had Darkwing interrupted a perfectly good brooding session but he had spoken entirely out of context. Had the mallard known that Robin was on a revenge quest, the best and most cliché type of quest for vigilantes, perhaps he would not have said anything; but Darkwing did not know this and so, said it in a futile attempt to be encouraging.
"You know nothing" Robin declared, "Things could always get worse. That is why every moment counts; why precision and efficiency are necessities, not luxuries, every second you waste talking is another that a victim continues to be terrorized."
Darkwing shook his head and rolled his eyes, now believing that Robin was being over-dramatic for the sake of being over-dramatic, which was saying something considerable taking himself into account.
"You're stretching this a bit don't you think?" Darkwing continued, "Not everything is gloom and doom you know."
Robin sighed and slowly walked away, already done with the conversation. Darkwing, showing concern, if nothing else continued curiosity, slowly followed, readying his grappling hook in the event he would have to take up pursuit.
"You can do what you want Darkwing" Robin said as he pulled out his bow, notching an arrow, "You are not motivated by pain, and so cannot understand."
Darkwing nodded, for could not deny that Robin's words were true, he did not understand nor was he motivated by pain. Thinking to himself that he would do everything in his power to uncover the truth about this mysterious and self-pitying creature, Darkwing readied himself, already aiming at the next rooftop, just as Robin fired another rope arrow and traversed the gap, arriving a few seconds after Darkwing. It was then that Robin, seeing that Darkwing had invited himself into the long haul, quietly retrieved his rope arrow, for he only had a few of them to spare, and without warning, broke into a full sprint.
From rooftop to rooftop they ran, jumping and propelling themselves with their selected tools of trade, relying on skill, in terms of Robin Hood, and luck, in terms of Darkwing, to aid them in the effort. Darkwing, who had neglected to put considerable time in the physical activity department, despite being a vigilante, was breathing heavily to the point where he suspected he was on the verge of having a heart attack. Robin Hood, in contrast, was barely breaking a sweat, however he was considerably slower than Darkwing when scaling the higher buildings.
"Do you need some help Darkwing?" Robin asked as he looked down, in the process of climbing the next building, a skyscraper, "I can suggest a few exercise programs, or perhaps a dietitian is in order?"
Darkwing huffed sarcastically and shook his head, for it seemed that Robin was in a considerably better mood than he had been minutes before; physical activity serving as some kind of outlet.
"Ha ha" Darkwing replied, "How about you worry about yourself and I'll worry about me?"
Aiming at the roof of the skyscraper and realizing that he would come up short by several feet, Darkwing, in one of his better moments of spontaneity, leaped straight ahead, smashing the window as planned. Avoiding the small bits of broken glass and his awkwardly bent right arm due to a rough landing, Darkwing stood up as quickly as he could, running to the other side of the room and breaking the opposite window, using the grappling hook to save himself, catching onto the much shorter rooftop, avoiding the climb entirely.
"I think I win" Darkwing said to himself as he hoisted himself to safety just as Robin Hood reached the rooftop of the skyscraper.
"Hey Robin!" Darkwing continued, shouting in order to be heard, "Looks like I won! Why don't you come on down and I'll congratulate you for your efforts!"
Robin Hood ignored him, for he was too busy looking into the next building over, a large warehouse. Kneeling down, trying to determine the trajectory of the shot that would be required, Robin casually began whistling "God Save the Queen" to himself. Inspecting his bow, checking the tautness of the string and making any necessary repairs, Robin silently began to pray, thanking God for the opportunity that he was able to do some good in the event that he had failed, and should he succeed, that he would be allowed to continue his fight for justice and for good. Robin then kissed the arrow and notched it, letting it fly and ultimately coming short by a foot and a half, missing the intended target, a large window. Shrugging and deciding to run with it rather than waste another arrow, Robin backed up, testing the balancing point of the bow one more time and took a leap of faith, running off the edge.
Darkwing Duck, after thirty seconds of gloating, stood in amazement as he witnessed Robin Hood jump off the roof and slide down the rope to the warehouse. For a moment he was afraid that Robin was going to slam into the side of the building and become something he would have to scrape off the pavement. Closing his eyes, afraid to look, Darkwing was surprised to find that not only was Robin very much alive, but he had somehow managed to work his way up to the window and open it without breaking it.
Robin waved him over as he cut the rope, leaving the arrow lodged in the side of the building. Darkwing, easily grappling his way to the warehouse window, graciously accepted Robin's hand, briefly putting his faith in the fox, all notion of a possible rivalry having temporarily been put on pause.
"You know Robin" Darkwing said as he looked out onto the city and the way they had come, picking out glass from his arm, "You're right. I can't understand. I am not motivated by pain, I'm not like you. I fight because I know if I don't know no one else will. I am motivated by hope. I am motivated by love."
Robin shook his head and sighed, not because he found it hard to believe, but because he simply could not believe it.
"What is love without pain?" Robin retorted, "What is hope without despair? You must have both to understand Darkwing. Only through pain can you experience love, true love; and only in death can you appreciate what life has to offer. That is the great irony, and the great tragedy."
Robin spoke with the logic of a depressed and manic individual, possibly on the verge of suicidal behavior, as if he greeted death at every turn with a smile and an open hand, the only thing keeping him going the desire to see his revenge carried out. Turning into the warehouse, Robin quickly got onto the walkway and jumped onto the warehouse floor, readying his bow once again, his body becoming tense as if he expected something.
"This is the warehouse of the Federation" Robin declared, "I've been tracking them down for the past few months with no success. I was on my way here when I ran into you and that burglar."
Darkwing shrugged, for he failed to see what any of this had to do with St. Canard, for he had not heard of anything called the Federation until now.
"What's the Federation?" Darkwing asked as he landed on the warehouse floor, "Some kind of splinter group of villains?"
Robin shook his head in disagreement, Darkwing having missed the mark entirely. Slowly scanning the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary, Robin did his best to answer the question.
"The Federation is an underground organization, only recently coming to the surface. Its members range from all walks of life with two wizards spearing the head. Dastardly fiends; one of them, Maleficent, claiming to have control of the night itself. The other, Jafar, enslaves candidates, willing or no, to the cause, it's how they recruit. Their subterfuge and cunning has kept them hidden until now, it was only through patience and constant vigilance that I was able to learn of their existence."
While listening to Robin's exposition Darkwing also contributed to the search, looking among the boxes and crates. He found nothing of particular use or mention, at most it was screws and hardware appliances, but he also found among them several snow globes, a few textbooks, and a Christmas tree.
"Are you sure this is the right place Robin?" Darkwing asked, uncertain, "There's nothing here!"
Robin shook his head again, he had spent too much time researching and planning to think otherwise; he knew that he was right, that this warehouse was a trading hub, his experience told him that it couldn't be anything else.
"We're looking for something inconspicuous" Robin returned, "Something that you wouldn't think about. Something obvious to reveal a secret, a lever or a switch."
On the far wall was a light switch. Walking over, figuring that little would come of it other than providing light that would help in the effort, Darkwing casually flipped the switch, at the same time a loud and commanding laugh emitted from the room.
Standing on the balcony on the far side of the room was Jafar, the source of the laughter. On his shoulder was his parrot, Iago. Next to him was Maleficent, then the Sheriff of Nottingham, Captain Pete, and finally, Taurus Bulba. All of them were confidently leaning, daring one of them to make a move. Robin Hood, instinctively, notched three arrows in his bow, barely holding them with his hand, aiming at the Sheriff. Darkwing, for his part, leapt into the shadows.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drop you Sheriff!" Robin exclaimed, shouting to the top of his lungs, making sure that he was heard.
The Sheriff laughed and gestured to his left and then to his right.
"Go ahead" The Sheriff replied, "There's five of us and one of you. Do the math for a second."
Iago cleared his throat, guessing that he had been singled out for some reason, for the Sheriff was not known for brains.
"Six" Iago corrected, "There's six of us and one of him. Do the math Sheriff."
The Sheriff waved him off, for Iago was always trying to butt into things that were not his business.
"It doesn't matter" The Sheriff continued, now speaking to Robin, "You try anything and you're dead outlaw."
Darkwing, nervous at the prospect of dying, carefully stood in his place and waited, trying to determine if he should reveal himself or not. It made little difference however, for Taurus Bulba, who was closest to him, only laughed and pointed, catching Darkwing's cape just before it disappeared into the darkness behind the crate.
"So the famous Darkwing Duck chooses to hide instead of fight!" Taurus declared, "How like him, the coward!"
Robin glanced over at where Darkwing should have been and upon finding that he was not there, only stood his ground the more, his arrows keeping their place in his bow.
"Darkwing" Robin said, calling out, "Darkwing, I need you."
He was met with silence, which was equally met with howling laughter from the villains, Maleficent in particular, whose laugh was a high pitched cackle that resonated and echoed throughout the room.
"Oh how we will enjoy killing you!" Maleficent boasted, "Do not worry, we'll make sure it's a quick death!"
Pete, as if on cue, jumped down from the balcony and onto the floor, causing Robin to redirect his aim square into Pete's center.
"You move and you're dead Pete" Robin warned as his hand began to give out, "I'm giving you three seconds."
Pete shrugged and stepped forward. At that moment Robin let go. Just as the arrows would have pierced Pete, effectively killing him, Darkwing's motorcycle burst through the warehouse wall, knocking Pete out of the way and deflecting the arrows in various directions across the rooms, ricocheting and causing mass confusion. As the villains ducked for cover, their confidence temporarily shattered as Pete lay unconsciousness and three arrows shot around the room, Darkwing emerged from his hiding place and ran towards the motorcycle, placing Robin in the sidecar and then, as quickly as they had come they had disappeared into the night leaving nothing but the sound of the burnout as the rubber hit the concrete.