Robin Hood: Mischief In Sherwood Novels & Stories

Why? "You are a bunch of fools! A bunch of fools!" She shouted. "A slow man outwitted you. He knocked you out?!" She advanced towards Robin with a sword in hand. Robin trembled when he saw her approach. "I'm sorry." He pleaded, looking at the sharpness of the sword. "You better be." She said this as she slashed his neck. Robin's head rolled down his body, and the rest of the guards were frightened.

Then why did it happen? “The only people who know the truth of why it happened are no longer with us. The reason they gave us is they believed them to be trespassing rogues on our land. Rogues have a distinct smell and look. You can identify a human easily; their scent is different.” He told me. I turned my head and looked back out the window.

Blood sprayed across the stone. He released the body and before it had even finished falling, he rotated to meet the second attacker, catching its foreleg and snapping it with one brutal twist before slamming it into the ground and finishing it. The third and fourth rogues hesitated. That hesitation cost them. Robin didn’t wait for them to recover. He was already moving, his jaws locking around the neck of one of them—he slammed it repeatedly against the ground until it stopped moving entirely. The fourth turned to run. It didn’t make it three steps.

“Ruby Vermillion is a nineteen-year-old woman raised in the Northerneast mountains. She is believed to be working for the King of Hezel to neutralize us with our plans to expand our territory.” I smirk. Interesting. “And? Ah, yes, by the way. Is she somehow involved by a man named Robyn?” “Yes, correct. She seems to be affiliated with Robyn Winchester. The Hooded Archer in Green of Hezel.” Now, that makes her even more interesting. Robyn Winchester. A sharpshooter. Tenacious with his bow and arrow. One-shot, one kill. A man who formulated a quick poison to immobilize us, Weres. I still remember the day when I crossed paths with him. So that’s why Ruby’s attacks seemed familiar.

This rogue is not my target, not today. But a wave of loud cheers breaks through the forest, and the sudden noise startles the rogue. He leaps at me and knocks me off my feet. I am on my back with a massive wolf on top of me, desperately trying to rip my throat out. I press my fingers into his eyes and smirk at the pained whimper that escapes the animal. He steps back so I can stand up, but he tries to attack me again without a second's hesitation. I manage to jump to the side and dodge a few of the rogue's attacks until I hear someone calling my name in the distance. At that moment, I lose my damn focus and the rogue drills a claw into my thigh. I grit my teeth and refuse to make a sound. W

a voice rallied the crowd, which swarmed toward Alexander, ready to trample him. However, before they could even reach him, Alexander called out, "Stop, it's over!" Just like that? It had barely begun. The crowd turned to see Robin on the ground, twitching, unable to stand. This was the Lord of War—swift and decisive. "How can this be? Who's responsible? Show yourself!" "Who the hell hit Mister Lorrel?" The fans were livid, scanning for the assailant, but no one stepped forward. Little did they know, Red Rose had stayed out of sight. Her well-aimed pebble to Robin's gut was all it took to bring him down.

She met Dylan’s gaze; he offered a brief, steady nod. The doors slammed shut. --- #### Shadows Strike The first arrow thunked into the beam above Ophelia’s head, scattering splinters. Hooded figures burst from the loft: half a dozen bowmen wearing black hawk emblems crudely sewn on winter leathers. Griff shouted, drawing steel. Rurik launched upward, yanking a raider to the floorboards. Chaos geysered—steel clanged, wolves shouted, the brazier spilled coals that rolled like burning marbles.

“Answers? What’s there to ask? She was in my way, and I took care of her. Simple as that.” “You’re lying!” Edward roared, shaking off Daniel’s grip. “You didn’t just ‘take care’ of her. You slaughtered her like a coward!” Robin’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a deadly tone. “Careful, Edward. You’re in my domain now. And trust me, I’ve been waiting for this, too.” Edward and Daniel instinctively shifted into defensive stances as Robin snapped his fingers. From the shadows, two more rogues emerged, their snarls echoing through the hall.

We were like a band of misfits-turned-heroes, just… existing. No war plans. No blood on our hands. Just laughter, conversation, and the thrill of being alive. “Okay, that’s the third sword you’ve looked at, Rod,” Cynthia teased, nudging him with her elbow. “You’re not starting your own militia, are you?” Rod shrugged, grinning. “I’m just saying—if we accidentally get into a tavern brawl, a backup sword wouldn’t hurt.” Boone rolled his eyes. “You need backup manners, not backup weapons.”

Trios were allowed to exist again. But right on the heels of that, a group of witches showed up—called the Riding Hoods. Yeah, as in Little Red Riding Hood. Turns out the old story was true. The original Red was killed by a rogue werewolf. Her sister got revenge, then decided her new life mission was killing every werewolf on Earth. She built a cult of twisted followers, and now we’ve got a bunch of mummified witches coming for our throats. We beat them back in America, sent them crawling back to Europe. But they didn’t stay quiet.