Literary Heroes Part 2: Hero Team

Now that I’ve set the stage with the Democratic Kingdom of Provania, it’s time to introduce my cast of heroes drawn from the novels and other literature my class and I have read this past school year. This is where it starts getting really in depth. And I mean, really. Keep an eye out, and you’ll probably be able to figure out who the villains are.

The Prometheans

Named for the Titan who sacrificed himself to bring enlightenment and fire to humankind, the Prometheans are a team of vigilantes that operate out of Rochevan. Before uniting, the Prometheans consisted of isolated people who sought to crack down on illegal activity in a time when law enforcement was just as likely to catch a criminal as would a cardboard box propped on a stick. Though of varying ideologies, and with varying agendas, the Prometheans found unity when one idealist stepped forward, calling himself the Solar Knight. The Knight, after having called a meeting of the then diverse vigilantes, told them that he believed a unified force of heroes could fix the nation far more efficiently than could they alone. To prove it, he presented a letter he’d received from Ex-Prince Hamlet. The letter held a simple request: find those responsible for my father’s murder.

The Solar Knight explained that either he and the other heroes could try and curtail meaningless petty thefts and murderers, or they could expose an assassination plot and save the nation from potentially malignant organizations within itself. The others didn’t believe it would be possible until he presented more proof: a manifesto detailing the formation of three organized crime syndicates that the other vigilantes had been unaware of. They all reluctantly agreed to work with the Solar Knight, and so united. Each member brought their own talents and expertise to the team, and while progress on their overarching goal has been slow, the Prometheans have indeed proven that together, they can enlighten the nation’s people far better than they could alone. And though the assassination seems to be their short-term goal, the members agree that after such a task, future assignments would be easier. Each one will be detailed below.

The Solar Knight

Real Name: Phoebus de Châteaupers

Hero’s Costume: cerulean button-up long-sleeved shirt, black pants, brass cuirass with elongated tassets, brass spaulders, red leather gloves, red leather swordbelt, red leather riding boots, ocean blue calf-length cape, golden armet with a crimson sun enameled on the forehead

Weapon of Choice: “l’Incendie de la Justice,” a custom-made longsword. The blade is shining silver with a brass pipe running along its center, anchored in the sword’s rainguard. The crossguard is a wide wing-shape of brass, enameled with crimson flame patterns. The pommel is an orb of brass, enameled with shades of red and orange to resemble a sun. The grip between the guard and pommel is a brass pipe wrapped with mahogany-coloured insulation, and further bound in silver wire. The pommel contains a quantity of pressurized water, which can be pumped through heating elements in the crossguard to be turned into steam. This steam can then be sent through the slim pipe running along the blade’s center, causing the steel to heat up until it burns to the touch. In addition, vials of flammable liquid are stored within either side of the crossguard, and can be sprayed like an aerosol so that the heated blade may light the vapor on fire.

Backstory: In his younger years, Phoebus was a rather immoral member of the Rochevan Police Force. At the time, he was more concerned with climbing the social ladder and enjoying the pleasures of the flesh than with anything so intangible as “justice.” But then, things went horribly wrong. One night, when Phoebus intended a romantic rendezvous with a gypsy girl, he met a man in disguise who asked to watch. Said man ended up stabbing Phoebus in the back — literally — just as the young man was about to truly “enjoy himself” with the gypsy. He was subsequently put in intensive care for a month, after which he discovered that said gypsy girl had been put on trial and sentenced to death for attacking a police officer. Despite some police chases and riots that resulted, the woman was indeed executed. And though Phoebus went on to marry his fiancee — who he’d had at the time he seduced the gypsy — he never quite forgot the woman he’d inadvertently killed. And though it didn’t exactly turn him into a moral member of society, he found he could no longer turn a blind eye to criminal acts.

His marriage didn’t last long. Phoebus’s career with the police force waned, and he quit after the assassination of King Hamlet, when the police no longer did anything but mop up the mess left behind from a crime. This lack of income caused his wife, a petty socialite, to divorce him in favor of the police chief. Left alone, Phoebus took the time to re-evaluate his plans for the future. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the world was a bitter, cruel place, and full of injustice. So, with a life seemingly going nowhere, Phoebus decided to become a modern day knight for good: not out of any desire to do good, but simply because he appreciated the irony. Using some of the money he’d stored away — which, in fairness, he’d siphoned from his wealthy wife’s bank account — he had a smith make him armor, and had a mechanist make him a sword. Giving himself and his sword what he considered ironic names, Phoebus began to deal with petty crime. He never killed when he could help it, however; knowing the justice system as he did, he was fairly certain most of the criminals he caught would hang anyway. Besides, since his heroic identity was intentionally over-idealistic and brave, it fit with the persona the Solar Knight exhibited to the public. It also helped that his superheated blade would cauterize most wounds it caused, preventing those struck from bleeding out.

But things shifted when Phoebus ran into a trio of thugs attacking a young man in the streets. After subduing the thugs, and accidentally hamstringing one of them, Phoebus discovered that the man they were mugging was the Ex-Prince Hamlet. The two struck up conversation, then Phoebus departed, fully expecting to simply be part of another headline. And indeed, he received a Sunday paper detailing the story. With it, however, came two letters. The first was from Ex-Prince Hamlet, who’d no doubt had a loyal informant tell him Phoebus’s address. This letter asked Phoebus to track down the assassins of King Hamlet, and bring them to justice. An anecdote of the letter stated that the Ex-Prince would reward him handsomely for such an act. Phoebus tore off this anecdote, just in case someone found the rest of the letter.

The other letter, however, was both a threat and a challenge. With no return address and no signature, the letter told Phoebus of three criminal organization that had been formed. The letter mocked the Solar Knight’s prowess, daring him to just try and stop them. It also insinuated that one of the three organizations would know who killed King Hamlet.Sufficiently intrigued, Phoebus spent his next three nights looking for signs of the organizations. He found them. Cynical and brash though he was, Phoebus knew he couldn’t win against the organizations on his own, and thus would never get the bounty. So he began to seek out other vigilantes to help him with the grunt work, and to ensure him the reward from the Ex-Prince. He made sure, of course, to keep said reward a secret. After all, his idealistic Solar Knight persona was in it for justice, not for monetary gain.

The Brazen Fist

Real Name: Mattie Ross

Hero’s Costume: white button-up shirt with the left sleeve cut off, coffee brown pants, black waistcoat with brass armor plating, ocean blue cravat, black leather belt, black leather riding boots with brass greave plates, coffee brown duster coat with the left sleeve cut off, black cloth domino mask, coffee brown stetson hat, black leather bracer with brass plating(worn on right forearm)

Weapon of Choice: A detachable prosthetic left arm with steam-powered motors. The bone structure is hardened steel, layered with the wires, pistons, and pipes required for articulation. This is all encased in black-painted brass armor plating with appropriate ventilation pipes for built-up steam. The arm can punch with incredible force, enough to put dents in steel sheets. In addition, the forearm plating and palm of the hand can open up to allow a grappling hook to fire with enough wire to reach 120 feet in the air. The whole arm is powered by a steam generator that can be worn as a backpack, itself armored against stray bullets.

Additional Weapons: Dual revolvers worn on either hip, and a bowie knife hidden in the right boot.

Backstory: Mattie lived her youth in the Provanian colony of Arkan; an arid, rural landscape mostly used as farming land and valued only for the occasional gold or silver mine. Mattie’s father ran a ranch, and she often helped him in addition to his farm hands. A combination of rural values and strict attendance to Church sermons led to her developing a black-and-white view of morality in the world. This, combined with above-average intelligence and a stubborn streak a mile wide, contributed to her reaction when her father was murdered by a farmhand. Rather than simply let the law do its job, she took matters into her own hands: she hired a marshal and went with him to try and catch the murderer and bring him back to hang for his crime. In the process, though the marshal tried to ingrain in Mattie the fact that the world wasn’t as binary as she thought, she maintained her mindset. Somehow, said mindset even survived Mattie having her left arm bitten by a venomous snake after nearly dying from falling down a crevasse.

The snakebite, as it turned out, resulted in the marshal — Rooster Cogburn by name — bringing her to Rochevan for treatment. By the time they got there, the only thing that could be done for Mattie was for her arm to be amputated. Mattie insisted on receiving a basic prosthetic to allow her normal functionality, though the prosthetic wasn’t good for much except light tasks. Without the money to return to her mother, and without an arm strong enough to handle farm work, Mattie decided to stay in Rochevan. She eventually got a job as a newspaper columnist, as the editor thought a “provincial, layman perspective” would offer a nice change to the readers. And, for the most part, Mattie did well.

But life in Rochevan didn’t sit well with her after a while. Cities, after all, were more prone to corruption than simple Arkan life. Her only source of stability, besides her career, were the letters she’d send to Rooster, and attendance to Church sermons. After Rooster’s death, that left only the Church. As it happened, the Archdeacon of Rochevan’s cathedral — Claude Frollo — took an interest in the girl. Also being crippled, he offered to let her write pieces for Church pamphlets, which supplemented Mattie’s income nicely. After a while, Mattie had enough to live comfortably, were it not for her continued disgust at the immorality of the city folk. And when King Hamlet died, leaving the police force ineffective, Mattie decided that enough was enough.

With some financial help from Archdeacon Frollo, Mattie had a mechanist make her a more powerful prosthetic, along with some extra equipment. Taking on a set of clothing similar to that which she’d seen Rooster wear, Mattie began hunting down criminals in the streets of Rochevan. Her still binary attitude left no room for compromise: either a criminal surrendered and got sent to the authorities, or he resisted and was killed for it. In her mind, the Lord would be enough of a judge for the men who refused to submit to the laws of society. Mattie eventually made enough of a name for herself that her own newspaper would publish stories about her exploits. Mattie, of course, was often asked to write these pieces. And she would, often. Despite that, the only person aware of her dual life was Archdeacon Frollo. She certainly had no interest in romance.

The Orchid

Real Name: Elizabeth Dalloway

Hero’s Costume: cyan thigh-length sleeveless sheath dress with an oriental neckline, black fishnet tights, violet open-front high-necked riding coat with ankle-length tails and indigo trim, violet-dyed knee-high leather boots, silver hoop earrings, violet domino mask, silver spaulders, silver bracers, silver poleyns

Weapon of Choice: An unnamed staff, custom-made by a high-class mechanist. The staff’s body is a smokey grey metal with slight ridges carved into it for a better grip. Either end of the staff bears a hidden silver dagger blade, both piston-activated so as to not be shaken loose during a fight.

Backstory: Elizabeth has led a rather sedentary life. Her father’s money and mother’s penchant for parties left her life feeling empty. Easily influenced, blown from interest to interest by her friends and acquaintances, Elizabeth always looked for something to do, something to make her life worthwhile. And for the longest time, she could only find it in small rebellions against her mother: taking buses alone, socializing with what her parents would consider the “wrong sort,” spending her days in charity work, etc. But eventually, she found something to hold her interest. And she found it where she never would have expected it. She found interest in fighting.

It happened quite by accident. On one of her walks around Rochevan, she came across a pair of street performers dueling with staves. Their fluid strikes and acrobatic dodges struck a chord in her; something about them reminded Elizabeth of the dancing her mother favored, while also having something of the harshness she knew her mother found distasteful. So, upon returning home, she asked her father if he would find her someone to train her in the martial art. After quite a bit of goading and arguments, he agreed. And so Elizabeth began learning the art of staff combat.

Though she found this new pastime enthralling, Elizabeth remained interested in charity work. And after King Hamlet’s assassination, she found that the lower classes needed more help than ever, especially considering the crime rates. At first, she simply started abandoning training to put more hours into her work. But once she saw a newspaper article written about a man dressed as a knight fighting criminals, she found her ultimate answer: vigilante work would allow her both to help those in need, and to exercise her mind and body in ways her mother would never allow. And so, taking the name of a rare flower, Elizabeth took to the streets in a costume she’d designed and made herself. It didn’t take long for her pure selflessness — and good looks — to earn her a name and reputation. She never quite picked up the knack of avoiding lovestruck fans, however.

The Pioneer

Real Name: Robert Walton

Hero’s Costume: ice blue button-up long-sleeved shirt, white pants, white leather belt, white leather riding boots with silver greave plates, white fur-lined coat, silver bracers, white leather goggles with smokey grey lenses, white cloth gloves with silver gadlings

Weapon of Choice: An unnamed revolving rifle, made by Walton himself. The barrel, mechanisms, and chambers are wrought from silver steel, while the wooden aspects are pale-stained ash wood. The chamber holds seven rounds, and Walton has designed multiple kinds of bullet to be fired by the rifle. They include the following: standard, incendiary, acidic, nonlethal, and luminous. Incendiary and acidic bullets are made of a type of toughened glass that shatters on impact, releasing appropriate compounds when so shattered. Luminous rounds are glass as well, albeit a thicker and stronger variety, and are designed with phosphorescent compounds to provide light when shot. Nonlethal rounds are made of toughened rubber, and shaped to minimize penetration. The two priorly mentioned ammunition types are also granted less gunpowder in their charges. This helps keep the nonlethal rounds nonlethal, and allows the luminescent rounds to survive impact and so act as portable flares.

Backstory: Robert Walton, who has always preferred being called by his surname, grew up with an astounding love for adventure. Though first flirting with the idea of becoming a poet, Walton’s passions drew him towards the then-unexplored Arctic and its associated wonders. He then undertook six years of naval service under the guidance of one Jeremiah Raoul Kurtz, who himself was a rising star in an imperialist trading company. Walton had his ambitions heightened by his proximity to Kurtz, and dedicated himself voraciously towards his studies and physical training. Eventually, when Walton felt himself ready and Kurtz was rich enough off of explorations in the deep south, the latter lent Walton the money to hire a ship and crew for a voyage into the Arctic, with the goal of discovering the origin of the planet’s magnetic field.

However, the voyage changed the young man. During his long absence from his sister, Margaret, Walton found himself lacking in friendship. He felt alone, isolated by his life choices, ambition, and lack of formal education. Add that to the fact that the Arctic perils themselves did their best to ruin the expedition, and Walton was already prime for some form of epiphany. More important, however, was the strange occurrence Walton was exposed to. He and his crew recovered a man in the Arctic, one Victor Frankenstein. Though Walton grew close to this man, even unto Frankenstein’s death, the dying man told Walton a story that shook the young explorer to his very core. Letters he sent to his sister, detailing Frankenstein’s story, proved as much. Meeting Frankenstein, and meeting the unholy being described by the old man, all but slew Walton’s ambition. The young man turned the ship around and returned to Provania, disheartened and as solitary as ever. He left the company shortly afterwards, just six months before the company unveiled an airship they hoped would provide a better way to explore dangerous regions such as the frozen north.

Around the time of the airship’s unveiling, Walton began showing signs of rekindled ambition, but with a different bent. He became even more adept at the sciences and engineering skills he’d learned while on ships, yet all the while accelerated his skills with a sort of wariness. When his slowly growing circle of friends questioned his reasons, Walton answered the following: “There are some forces science may not be able to fully explain. Or, indeed, there may be sciences that cross into the realm of the arcane.” Many of his friends subsequently found Walton reading copies of old alchemical journals, as well as books supposedly written by thaumaturgists. Though he never told anyone, least of all his sister, Walton was doing so with a goal in mind.

He had met Frankenstein’s monster, if only briefly. And though the aged scientist had not shared the secret of life, Walton knew that such miracles were possible. And he feared their misuse. Walton pitied the creature, but feared it. And he determined that, by himself studying the eldritch arts that gave rise to its creation, he could curtail the ambitions of other would-be Frankensteins. And he succeeded, to a degree. Eventually, having learned all he could, Walton settled down to a life of tinkering and mechaneering, his designs often thought radical by his peers. But all the while, Walton kept his ears and eyes peeled for any hint of the supernatural, a force he now truly feared.

Then came the assassination of King Hamlet. With laws grown lax and crime fervent, Walton found himself designing weapons and defenses more than other machines. And he also found something disturbing. Though the inept police made no notes of it, Walton noticed that some gangs were writing messages to one another using alchemical symbols in the back alleys of the capitol city. His paranoia piqued, Walton began looking for a way to investigate. He found it rather quickly, upon reading a newspaper from Rochevan about costumed vigilantes. Quickly converting his arctic exploration attire into something of a disguise, Walton moved to the city, hoping to find the source of what he considered to be forbidden and dangerous knowledge. Though he hoped the gangs were simply borrowing symbols as a code, the intellectual and adventurous side of him knew that there was something going on, and that he’d need to get good at vigilante work to stop it.

[Part 3]