****

The harsh Scandinavian wind dies down above the village of Goth and the snow settles in the path of an armored figure silently
moving towards its gates. This dark figure is coated in a deep black; whatever light glaring off the ground below is absorbed into
his being. This man has brought life to his totem: the bat...

He is the Dark Knight.

He rises from his shadow letting his heavy leather cape flap in the wind. From these mountaintops he can see the dim lights of the
village glimmering calmly as well as the loud roars of drunken Vikings sing in the local tavern. But from amid the laughs and cheers
comes a single scream of a young girl.

Along time ago the Dark Knight swore to do all he possibly could to stop the suffering and now on his homecoming this is what
he's been confronted with. All in all not a bad place to start...

Within a heartbeat his body is in action and he's sliding down the snow towards the heart of the screams...

                                               ****

A number of Vikings search the streets, looking all directions, leaving no patch untouched by their torches light. Up, down, left
and right through the stone paved streets, kicking down the doors of homes filled with only housewives and sleeping children, she
is nowhere to be found.

From out of a back window a young girl dashes through the darkness. A hint of light from the corner as well as drunken curses
sends her into the opposite direction. A stronger light from another corner signaling a second group even closer she runs back
past the other mob.

"There! That’s her!" bellows the leader of the first as his men run after her. Though she has a rather distant leave she is still lost in
the night. She asks herself where can I go? Where can I run?

She trips on the back of her dress and lands face first in the mud. The Viking mob surrounds her holding their torches forward as
so to see her face. Like a madwoman she starts screaming again.

"Hush woman!" yells one bending down to her. "Do you know what you have done? You have brought certain doom upon our
village girl! And for this you must pay!"

One of the men hands him a giant double-headed battle-axe while the other two outstretch her arms pinning her to the ground. His
axe rises above his head and with a whir flies from his hand.

"Release her, Viking!" comes a deep, harsh voice from behind them. All turn to see within the darkness an even darker shadow in
the shape of a bat. "Or by Odin you will beg for death this night!"

The wall of men open as the bald warrior turns to his addresser towers mightily above him and laughs. "You do not know of me
stranger so I shall give you a chance to run. I am Lothar, the fiercest Viking these lands have ever seen! You do not do well to
challenge me!"

"I know very well who you are Lothar and too of your reputation. So I shall say it a second time, release her or you shall beg me
for death..."

Lothar hears these words in confusion. Most of them he does not understand, but he does comprehend that those words were
meant to enrage him. He draws his sword and dashes toward the figure. Still he stands until near-impact when he ducks, rises and
forces the barbarian over his head.

The Vikings stop for a moment in awe and in unison charge at the Dark Knight yelling and cursing. With her pursuers distracted
the young maid makes composes her sanity and flees for the town limits.

                                               ****

The girl runs through the mountain paths. Oh, if only she could now return home. She is slowed by her thoughts and her vision
blurred by her tears. She trips on a stone and sobs in the clear snow around her.

"Quickly! This way!" comes a scratchy whisper from behind a boulder. She moves around it to see a lanky man in black robes,
his hair green as moss, skin white as snow and lips as red as blood. He leaps and peers over the corners of his lookout towards
the path she'd just come.

"Who are you?" she asked trying to grab his gaze.

"I am the assistant of your rescuer. I have been sent to save you. Now come, we must go quickly!" He grabs her hand and pulls
at her. She looks for what he was peering for over the rise. "Come, there is a path!"

She stays to peer over the moor. The man grumbles of her stubbornness in persistence. "Quickly! Hel comes for us!"

"Where will you take me?"

"To safety...LOOK!" Once again she turns back to see the Dark Knight leaping through the air in her direction followed by the
Viking mob.

"By Odin..." The assistant pulls at her and down the thin snowy path. Even when the roaring dies down the two continue to run.

                                               ****

 In the village the street is scattered with the unconscious bodies of the once brave Vikings but now only a fallen mob of
drunkards. Lothar and the black figure move in circles opposite each other not breaking their stare for a moment. Housewives
stand at the windows wanting to watch while also trying to shoo the children to bed.

Lothar giggles proudly to the fact that he is the last man standing of all his brave men. "You have defeated many of the finest
Vikings this land has ever seen. They will tell tales of your courage...er..."

"...Batman. All who've met me know me as Batman."

Batman. What an unusual name. Lothar can't help but drop his guard and hold his gut in laughter. "BATMAN! BWA-HA-HA!"

This is the opening he's been waiting for. The Batman moves in with a straight set of punches to either cheek. Angry, Lothar
swings his axe up from between his legs forcing the bat to jump backwards to the ground.

"A wily one aren't you? Do you fancy yourself a hero?"

"I do..." His response is cold and hard. At no point does he share the large man's jest.

"Well then prepare for your trip to Valhalla, the hall of FALLEN HEROES!" Like an executioner's blade his axe rises hanging to
fall upon Batman's head. Each moment seems like forever, the Batman can almost smell death near and Lothar his opponent's
blood. The axe drops and is frozen near impact as it is clapped between the Dark Knights palms.

"I'll not leave this Earth just yet..."

His legs roll up forcing the barbarian off of him and into his fellow Vikings. The Bat lands on his feet and while doing so forces
Lothar's axe into a wooden post. He looks down to his tired and bloody opponent lying atop a pile of men. Now longer does he
laugh or play but weeps in shame.

"Do me no shame Batman and kill me. Let ME go to Valhalla, let me die with honor..." The Batman ignores his pleas and sets off
to his home in the mountains. "You are no hero, Batman! For you lack the honor that comes with the privilege!"

His response remains cold to Lothar's cries and he once again disappears into the darkness from whence he came.

                                               ****

The green haired man shows the young lass into the main 'hall' of this gargantuan cave. It is filled with glass, metallic objects of
indescribable shapes and pictures with unreadable names and markings. Over the walls rest strange pictures, suits of armor,
devices of unknown origin. This is a place she could no less dream of.

The assistant begins a fire in the center of the stone floor. It merely pops from his hand and it rises to lengths close to the roof.

"Now," begins the man, "my master, your rescuer, the Batman, he must die..."

"But...but why?"

"For two reasons. First I am not truly his apprentice."

"Then I shall tell him of you."

"But you can't my deary..."

"Why?"

"Ah, a very funny question: WHY?" He hums, giggles, and dances around the lair in a strange euphoria, after the act landing upon
the lady's shoulders. "Why? Because if somebody told him about YOU then YOU would have to die! Hahahaha!"

"You couldn't tell him."

"And why not?"

"For he'd kill you!"

Once again he dances his little jig around the fire, laughing evilly now. "Somehow I don't think so, for you see..." He throws his
body into the fire and stretches to the very roof of the cave. "I AM A GOD! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Drunken Vikings? Knights? Gods? This is too much to handle. What else can she do but faint?

                                               ****

Across from the village of Goth lies a valley that they think at the moment is empty though if you were visit you would see they
bright red flags and dark tents which can only point towards the English...

A short heavily robed penguin shaped man wearing a crown steps from a tent towards the leader of the guard. "Well?" he
squeals. "Where is she?"

The soldier hesitates in a response, beads of sweat drip from his brow even in this extreme cold. "My liege, we believe she's gone
forward to Goth..."

"What??? Who took her???"

"My liege, we believe she went on her own accord..."

"Is that so?" He draws a sword from the pocket of a nearby guard and slices the lieutenants head clean off. "I will not tolerate
such accusations! I want my daughter back by the next sunset, or many of you will share a similar fate. And I would also like a
new LEADER OF THE GUARD!"

His back turns back for the tent and instantly the army is in action.

                                               ****

TO BE CONTINUED...

                                               ****

NEXT ISSUE: More bat-villain rip-offs, the trickster god and a lot of gore...