[EVENT] Acher's Attack on Enghelab

[zenderael_mods]

Who: Everyone! Remember, if you're in the Nenakret on Wednesday, you can't be here on Wednesday, at least until later.
When: Wednesday the 28th.
Where: Enghelab/Las Vegas
Before/After: During the parade.
Warnings: Violence, TBA.

This is a general purpose post for Acher's attack on Enghelab. Note what day your thread occurs in the subject line, in case this takes several IC days.

Comments

WEDNESDAY: Tai Feng and Acher

[fearnoreproach]

The attack on Las Vegas came suddenly. Brutally. The EMP took out the central third of the city's technology. Then, it was a matter of having two hundred massively enhanced soldiers rush into the heart of the city and begin slaughtering everything in sight. The Las Vegas Strip turned into a darkened, bloodied warzone, cast red and gold by a setting sun. When night fell, this place would be eerily dark.

It was anything but silent, though. Screams echoed down the street and the dead and dying piled up with equal disregard. In front of Bally's a few tourists were cut to shreds. The last, an elderly man, let out a scream as one of Acher's mercenaries punched a sword through his stomach, and another began working his rings off.

Acher knew it was butchery. He tried to pretend that he did not care. He watched from the entrance to the casino, then walked back towards the front desk. Dollar bills floated through the air; one of the cages had been opened and money was still falling down.

He brushed it out of his face without concern, and stepped over the prone form of a Las Vegas cop that he cut down earlier.

The city was his. A few of his men ostensibly stood guard, but most were tearing apart slot machines and raiding the food that was out. He had a crown, made of twisted iron and steel, that once belonged to Aerveas. It sat on his head, but it did not make him feel particularly regal. He wondered if it ever made Aerveas feel kingly.

Today, Acher doubted that.

WEDNESDAY: Chisaki and Nova

[a_wrong_turn]

Chisaki poked her head around the corner of one of Vegas's side streets. She had kept to the alleys, the smaller streets, and the rest. She also kept Nova close, but felt a flash of frustration. She began to appreciate how much slower, how less alert he was. She could feel their heartbeats, smell them, know they were coming. Nova could not. She learned she had to warn him, constantly, to stay out of their way. He had to see them coming.

It was annoying. That wasn't fair. Nor was a city being sacked. The screams, the stink of blood, and the rest had been chilling.

She looked down the street, and then looked back at Nova. "I don't think they're close--should be going the other way," she said, quietly. She tried to sound confident, like she knew where she was going. She didn't; she had the barest sense of direction and a city's downtown area was a maze. The projected confidence was mostly for Nova's sake. "I want to turn, move out there, and move fast. We're headed for the alley about three blocks down that way. Okay?"

Acher + Mal: Wednesday Evening

[fearnoreproach]

Even a couple of hours did not make Enghelab secure. The strategist in Acher knew that two hundred men, even with the strength of gods, were not enough to secure every part of the city. They simply couldn't cover that much ground.

The result was that when some druids attacked, Acher assumed them to be locals. He thought little of it, even while he watched his earth elemental slam a stray Las Vegas police officer across the street with a mighty, rocky punch. The newly made King of Pakerion frowned, before he turned, and resumed walking up the street leading to the edge of the black out zone.

There were lights on up ahead. The EMP hadn't worked as well as he heard; the entire city hadn't been brought down, just the downtown area.

Worst of all, the men following behind him seemed more like crazed animals than soldiers. They moved in a loose pack; they were bloodthirsty and maddened. Acher had no illusions about whether he controlled them; about whether they would listen to him in the first place. It made him a target, because his guards were hardly behaving like guards at all.

The Vairya + Tai Feng: Wednesday

[plot_zenpc]

The Vairya supposed that he should have done something about this.

He didn't think of himself as the Vairya, really. Rodrigo thought of himself as some dumb kid from Los Angeles who happened to have a madman -- the same one sacking the city, which he guessed was some kind of irony -- give him a godlike power. He never knew what to do with it. He had little idea of what Zenderael was; he just tried to do what he always did and lay low.

It wasn't working so well right now. He learned he could bend luck, though, and not like other rogues. It manifested incredibly strongly for him and came naturally, so Rodrigo just started bending luck all the time.

He ignored the way that a crossbow bolt flew by his head, inches from his ear. He knew it would miss. He was sitting at the one bar in Las Vegas that still had power, because he bent his luck so far that it had a backup generator. The barkeep was dead, of course -- he wasn't so lucky -- and that meant Rodrigo had to poor his own drinks. He was fine with that. It kept him down to earth. He sipped his cold beer and turned to look at one of the blood-soaked, bloodthirsty soldiers approaching.

The man drew his sword. Reflexively, Rodrigo twisted his luck further. The scabbard split in half along a structural weak point and the sword flipped out at an odd angle, twisted up, and cut the soldier's head in half. His body collapsed in a heap on the three other men that had gotten that idea, after they saw him through the hole knocked into the side of the Bellagio. Rodrigo looked down at the dead man passively.

"Huh," he said. "Ain't that some shit."

Acher vs. Victor + Ravindra + Tai Feng + Valentine

[fearnoreproach]

In the end, combined forces of berserkers, rallying local troops, a surprise influx of rogues, and adventurers overcame Acher's paltry army. They never had any hope of winning. Acher knew that from the beginning; he had tried to deny it for a time, to think that this could actually be the beginning of his reign as King of Pakerion, but he could plainly see the truth now that his back was against the metaphorical wall.

It was also against the literal wall. He slammed into the wall of a castle, part of Enghelab that remained intact in the merge; crossbow bolts from a cluster of Las Vegas police stuck out of his armor, blood running down his breastplate and trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looked up with a grim countenance, then wiped the blood off on a hand.

The crossbow bolts fell away from his body, pushed out by hardening and reforming skin. He swung his sword down into the ground, and a shockwave of thorned vines ripped out to and fro, batting them aside in huge numbers. Acher's eyes glanced around, then he looked forward.

All around him, his men were being cornered and killed; one had turned into a warhound nearby, but spears in berserkers' hands were pinning it down, while they hacked it to bits.

He laughed. It wasn't hard to miss him; his crown was still on his head, a final bit of defiance. He intended to die wearing it.