(Taken from the Joker thread)
Take your pick – 3 stories:
The Good
In ages past, there once lived an eccentric miser. He was possibly the richest man on the planet then, with vast amounts of gold and other precious metals hoarded away in secret places known only to himself. This was before the times of the wars that devastated the Lands and cost millions of lives and coins. His wealth was beyond all of our modern-day standards.
One day, a travelling jester appeared before this man’s house on the eve of a huge storm and managed to talk his way past the entrance. He spent the night sheltered in the miser’s house and offered his services as an entertainer in exchange. The miser agreed, being glad of some human company (being a miser naturally cost him the good opinions of most of his neighbors). He was then treated to the most wonderful sights and sounds, for the jester that he had unwillingly sheltered was the undisputed master of his craft.
The miser was so delighted as to act completely out of character and actually offered the Jester a place in his household and even some pay, if he would only consent to stay. So urgently and persistently did the miser prevail upon the Jester that eventually he decided to accept a position as the Jester of the household and spend the evenings designing entertainment for the merriment of this miser.
However, as the years passed, the Jester became more and more aware of the defects and character faults in his master – especially of his greed and avarice. He began to despise the lure of wealth that had trapped that poor man in a never-ending cycle of grasping and hoarding. However, before he voiced his displeasure, his master had passed away, leaving the Jester all of his fabulous wealth, in gratitude for making the last years of his life merry. The Jester, wary of being caught in the same trap as his master, determined to give away the money. However, he decided to give it away slowly, for he did not want to make any man stumble with too much wealth. He changed his name to Joker, to partially hide his identity, and travelled all over the lands, giving away his master’s money in the form of small items and trinkets he had bought.
When the original Joker died, he had passed on the secret locations of the hidden hoards of gold and charged his son to finish his mission. The son in turn was to pass the task down on to the firstborn male of his line, each taking the nom de plume of Joker to hide their real identities. Such was the size of the miser’s wealth that even until today, the 6th Joker is still travelling around the world, giving away items.
The Bad
There persist rumors, old as the dawn, that wherever man lives, there exists an organisation of thieves. Whether this is true or not, who knows? But alongside all of these reports comes the story of a man named Joker. Perhaps the title is hereditary. Perhaps it is a rank of some sort. Perhaps it may even be the same person – one never knows in this land of magic.
In the tales of the thieves, the man called Joker is often known as the head trainer and fence for the apprentices. Before any apprentice thief can gain his master’s badge of rank, he is first taught by Joker and other trainers to practise their crafts – pickpockets, lockpicking, basic combat and escape tactics, and the like. Unfortunately, in their haste and lack of skill, many aspiring criminals often botch their jobs, stealing items in a clumsy or detectable way. These are severely punished by the organisation, of course (one has only to see certain skeletons left to rot in quiet places like the Morcraven Marshes to understand the nature of these punishments) – but nevertheless, the stolen items have been identified and may lead to the discovery or compromise of the organisation itself.
Therefore, the man called Joker has the task of removing all traces of the evidence from the hidden warehouses and storages of the organisation. He travels around the world, setting false trails for the authorities and fencing or pawning off the stolen items to hidden merchants around the world. Occasionally, he is hard-pressed and rushed, so reveals himself to nearby travellers and pushes an item into that person’s hands before disappearing again. So far, no items have ever been traced back to the organisation – but rumors persist. Maybe they are true…maybe not. Nobody knows except the man called Joker.
t3h Entropy
I/we/me am/are/is an/a being/entity/person known/perceived/understood as name/callsign/personality Joker. Do…you…comprehend/understand/realise me? Oh dear. You 4-Dimensional people are so primitive. You haven’t even developed superluminal transmolecular quantum travel yet. Very well. I shall attempt to simplify/reduce my speech.
I am a 6th-Dimensional being from the plane of existence you know as The Array. I take on this likeness of a male human merely to interact with you all. I am simply a peaceful scout and explorer. My purpose here in no way has anything to do with seeding your world with disguised explosives/bombs/incendiaries in an attempt to neutralise the magical field forces surrounding your planet prior to an invasion attempt. That is absolutely untrue. There are NO weapons of mass destruction anywhere on this planet, especially none that look like common items given to people by me. I also did not perform the copulative act with that adult human female. Whoever told you so is lying.
I am a simple explorer, making people happy by giving unexpected presents to them. That is all.
