Review this story
Stories # - L | M - Z | Authors
Heroic History Lesson 101
(By: Soboscribe: Rsobo67@verizon.net)
Another day of classes is underway at Paragon City
University. The class is a History/Social study of world heroics.
“Okay class, the majority of you are on board with the theory of
super powered men and women being documented throughout history before
the 1930s,” begins Professor Samuel Adamson. The professor
quickly recaps the theory that such mythological beings like Hercules
and the Greek gods as well as Thor and the gods of Norse mythology
could be super powered humans.
“There is a study taking place right now on
campus, as a mater of fact that is trying to establish some magical
talismans that predate the rise of the Circle of Thorns in the
“Okay now we’re going to turn this a
bit. Who can tell me what makes a hero a hero?” a few students
raise their hand and Sam calls on a blonde girl in the second row.
“Yes, Miss Leyman.” “Self sacrifice?” answers
the student a bit unsure. “Good, sacrifice, willing to lay it all
on the line for the greater good.” Says Professor Adamson as he
writes the word SACRIFICE on the black board. “Any other ideas?
Mr. Wartovski.” “Um, putting others ahead of your own
needs.” “Okay, Civility or Civic Duty.” Responds Sam
again putting the terms on the chalk board.
“Oh I know, pick up chicks!” blurts out
an enthusiastic student. The class breaks out into laughter.
“Well I’m glad to see that you’re
awake and actually showing interest in what is going on in class today.
Mr. Thomson, but no I don’t think the hero is doing it as a pick
up.” Laughs Sam. After a few more answers are debated, the
professor steps to the side of the board.
“So these few items up here are what separate
the Statesmen from the Recluses. A simple summing, ethics. Real simple
to define right? That’s what I’m going to challenge you
with this grading period. Sometimes it’s not so simple to say who
is a hero and who is not.”
Sam walks over to a small cabinet and takes out an
old battered journal. The professor holds up the book as he steps
behind the podium.
“Here’s a case to that point. This is a journal that
has been with me for quite some time. It’s the personal journal
of Nigel Connelly, a Privateer of the late 1700s.” Sam goes into
a quick explanation that a Privateer was essentially a government
sponsored pirate and that Connelly in particular was an Irish pirate in
service to England that operated in the Caribbean.
“Wow just like the Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp movie.”
“Well a little more realistic then the Disney movie, Mr.
Thomson.” States Sam with another round of laughter in the class.
“Connelly recounts the operations of a team of
pirates that displayed rather unique abilities to accomplish their acts
of piracy. The professor opens the book and thumbs through a few pages.
“Here we go, Connelly writes: we have just been captured by the
the Casa Del Pesar, translation the House of Sorrow. One of the most
dreaded ships of the Spanish fleet. Captained by Hector Fernando
Casabello who has claimed relation to Cortez himself. As I much feared,
the only item keeping me and my companion Wyatt alive is my
“license” to the King of England. And that will only be
good for a few more minutes. Casabello is legendary for routing us
pirates and the unspeakable acts of torture and death he has inflicted
on the captured ones. The only black mark against him is that American
pair that truly has the Devil on their side. Wait there seems to be
some type of commotion coming from the deck above, like the Pesar is
readying for some type of confrontation. From our holding cell my
partner is trying to make out what is happening outside through a knot
hole he finagled out of the hull
it’s the Liberty’s Dagger, always thought that an odd name
for that unique Tartan with its pointed steel bow, no type of sail but
yet move faster than the wind and its red, white, and blue Jolly Roger,
this can only mean that the Bane of Casabello, the Rumrunner, is on the
of the Liberty’s Dagger, the Rumrunner and his partner, the giant
Cannonade, has been plundering the Spanish Armada for years. Casabello
has had them in his gun sights more than once but has yet to hit the
getting frantic now. He says he can make out the giant figure of
mountain sized man, who wields a cannon like a Flintlock, is taking aim
at the ship. We can hear the sound and feel the ship rock from the
cannons. Wait the Dagger is turning, its positioning itself to ram the
Pesar and starting to pick up speed!
standing on the deck of the Liberty’s Dagger I still can not
believe the events that have transpired in the last few hours. The
Dagger cleaved through Pesar, cutting her in two. The stern of the ship
sank almost instantly, taking Captain Casabello and most of the crew
with it. While the bow and aft section remained afloat despite the
ocean pouring into the now exposed holds. The remaining crew must have
been in such a state of panic to notice the ship was not sinking. Then
I saw them, Rumrunner and Cannonade. The captain was an average built
man with a rugged American appearance. The only curiosity to Rumrunner
was a gold compass shaped medallion that seemed to have a faint but
supernatural glow to it. Cannonade however was truly larger than life.
He stood at least Eight feet tall and as broad shouldered as a Grizzly
bear. Cannonade freed Wyatt and me by simply tearing the barred door
off its hinges. That is when I was offered a place on the
Dagger’s crew. Wyatt and I helped load the gold treasure, which
seemed light as a feather, from the hold of the remainder of the ship
and boarded the Dagger. The captain turned the ship to the west and I
watched the rest of the Pesar slip into the depths of the sea.
Rumrunner explained in greater detail the offer he had proposed to
Wyatt and me. We were heading to a small group of islands just south of
Florida. These islands are being used as refuge for escaped slaves and
are under the protection of a very mysterious group that is secretly
working to abolish slavery in the America.
says that the gold taken from the Spanish is being returned to its
rightful owners in return for supplies and tools for the island.
opted to return to England while I have become quite taken by the
undertaking of bringing down this corruption to human decency.
Cannonade has secured safe passage for Wyatt on a Dutch trader ship
that seems to take every word he says with great humility. But I guess
with a man the size of Cannonade, who first threw a cannon ball twice
the length of your ship you would guarantee a person’s safe
passage through Hell itself and back again.
“The journal goes on to tell how Connelly was
awarded a set of mystical armbands that allowed him to project fire
from his hands. He took the name of Belenus, the Celtic god of light
and was taken to a secret island where supposedly the Fountain of Youth
is to be found.” As the students take in the story and start
talking among themselves, Thomson raises his hand,
“Hey professor, how did Captain Rumrunner
power his boat?” Sam replies as he puts the journal away.
“Gravity. It’s speculated that Rumrunner would be
considered a gravity controller by today’s hero
archetypes.” “That’s obvious Thom, come on the ship
not sinking, gold light as a feather, and the Dagger moving without
sails faster than the sailboats. Push me, pull me, classic controller,
and Cannonade, tanker all the way.” “Well it seems some of
you have already decided already that the crew of the Liberty’s
Dagger are heroes. And that, perfect seg-way, is your assignment for
the week.” Say the professor as he starts to erase the board.
“I would like a report on your opinion on the hero ethics and
specifically how those ethics may or may not relate to the crew of the
Liberty’s Dagger as heroes.” With that class is dismissed
and Sam Adamson packs up his teaching bag. The professor cuts across
campus enjoying the sunny spring day as he heads for his office. Thanks
to his abundant wealth, professor Adamson’s office is situated on
the first floor of a townhouse, the rest serving as his home.
The professor enters into his den and relaxes into
his easy chair as he studies an antique glass decanter. He studies the
clear liquid that rests in near empty decanter. Sam sits back and takes
in the room. He is staring as a very unique cannon displayed in the
center of the large room. Resting in its glass display case, the cannon
is of a 1700 design but with a handle, almost like a pistol grip built
in near the back of the cannon. The professor then pulls out a
medallion shaped like an ancient compass and drifts off into reverie.
A knock on his door snaps him back to reality. Sam
is greeted by a sight of some very old friends as he answers the door.
Standing outside is a young red haired man who sports a pair of gold
armbands that are encrusted with two large rubies. If one was to look
deep into the rubies, one would swear that you could see flames inside
them. The man standing behind the red head blocks out the sun with his
eight foot frame. The two enter Sam’s home.
“Still teaching the youth of America that
heroes come in all types of styles and not easily spotted, or spouting
out old pirate tales, Rum.” “It’s been a long time
since I went by that name. It’s great to see you two and John,
you sure don’t stick out quite so much these days. I think some
carry bigger guns than you ever did.” Jokes Sam as he ushers his
friends into the den. “I’ll say, we ran across a lady that
could match ole Johnny boy here muscle for muscle.” Jokes Nigel
as he takes down three crystal goblets. “I see we’ll need
to take our trip to the island soon.” Nigel pours out the drinks
from the decanter. “Here’s to Truth, Justice, and the
Heroic way.” Toasts Sam as the three drink the goblets and taste
the ice cold sweet fluid from the Fountain.