This story takes place six years before the first issue of Batman Gray. (The Batman Gray series starts around our present time.) In this story, Oliver Queen is 27. Superman begins fighting crime when he is 22, four years after Green Arrow shows up. Batman in the beginning of Batman Gray is 26.
Tales of DC Gray
Issue 1
Origin of the Green Arrow
The sea was churning, pushing Oliver Queen back forty feet every time he swam ten. The waves rose and crashed down hard around him but when they were down he could see the life raft. He had been on his yacht, with twenty or so friends and ass kissers, when lightning had struck the hall, splitting it and sinking the ship. Most had made it to the life raft, but Oliver had been thrown over the side. He swam with all his might now, towards the shouts of those on the raft. He could barely hear what they were saying, voices lost over the roar of the waves at dark clouds filled with rain rolled across the sky. Oliver knew one thing though, none were yelling for him. It sounded as though they were shouting 'Lyla!' That would make sense, Olive thought, Lyla was the young daughter of Alice Michaels, his secretary. Little Lyla had been so excited to be out on the sea for the first time. Oliver felt a pang in his heart, knowing that if she were not on that raft now, she never would be. The next time a wave dipped, Oliver's heart sank. He could no longer see the raft.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Oliver stalked quietly through the jungle. He was bare chested, his blonde hair wild, a matching beard entwined with sticks and leaves. His khaki pants were almost black and tearing at most seams. His naked torso was covered in green and brown streaks of mud. In his hand he held a bow, the tenth one he made, the only one that was usable. A makeshift quiver held ten wooden arrows, carved with a sharp piece of sea shell. Climbing a small ridge, Oliver saw his prey. A small goat, one of many that flourished on this large island, untouched by the hands and workings of man. Oliver crouched, wiping sweat from his brow before unsheathing an arrow. He knocked it, and pulled the it back, his hand steady and calm. He sighted the arrow at the goats heart, his forefinger stuck out to guide it. Biting his bottom lip, Oliver prepared to let the arrow fly. At the same second as he did, the Goat bolted. The arrow whistled audibly through the air and struck the ground where the goat had stood a second before. A cougar bounded from the bushes to Oliver's right and took off after the goat.
“God damn cat.” Oliver spoke to himself, as he had been his only company for the last six months. That damn cat had stolen his kills for far too long, and Oliver was going to do something about it. Oliver slung his bow over his shoulder, and took off after the animals. There was a cat like shriek, and the bleating of a wounded goat as Oliver neared the western beach. Sliding the bow into a ready position and and already knocking an arrow, Oliver cautiously moved forward. He broke the tree line and saw the cougar crouched over the now dead goat, tearing skin from it's side. Oliver knelt on one knee and readied his bow, training it at the back of the cat's head. It would be this moment that Oliver thought of in two months. He would be back in Star City then, having been rescued only days after killing the cougar. Oliver had attended a socialite party, and witnessed a group of thugs crash the party and rob the attendants of their jewelery and money. That night, in a make shift disguise based on Robin Hood, Oliver had stalked across his city, finding the thugs and making them regret stealing. Just as he had done to the cougar. Back on the island, Oliver let his arrow fly.
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