Siege on the City of Heroes - South, Part 1(EVENT)

[Richter Abend]

Command over the defending armies? That was quite a tall order. Richter hadn't commanded an army in battle since the ambush up in Ilia, and he had, as far as the Ilian was concerned, failed at that by being captured in the middle of battle. But the Sacaen didn't know that, and the pink haired warrior wasn't about to tell him. Even so, Kenshin had to be pretty desperate if he was asking Richter, a man with which he shared a strong mutual dislike, to take command of the men and women defending his home city. The red-haired swordsman was, quite literally, placing the safety of his family in Richter's hands. Clearly Kenshin needed help, and while Richter hadn't been intending to take over outright, he had come to help. This change of command was probably the best way to do that.

"Deal," replied Richter with a curt but authoritative nod. That would be a debt he'd be calling on very soon if he managed to turn this around. "But does this army have any kind of command structure, or am I going to have to declare my authority with force of will?" The Ilian looked around. The defending forces looked more like squads of independent militia than they did an organized fighting force, but then again, aside from a few commanding figures, the bandit invaders weren't much different. Still, it would prove a challenge trying to rally such a force to do anything but fight for their lives.

[Mavick]

This city was chaos. There was no disputing that. Fear and unsurety was running rampant through the ranks of these unfortunate plainsmen. But who could blame them? Sacaen cities were not built to handle sieges. Not like Ostia. Beautiful Ostia, what a black day it had been when she fell, her own citizens rising up to devour their friends and loved ones. It was not the last time such an incident had occured. Even in the frozen lands of Ilia, the dead seemed to rise and prey upon the living. Such a travesty could not happen again. It was not allowable.

No one seemed to notice the cloaked figure, shorter than the common man, as he moved through the chaos. Why would they? There was so much at stake, so much more to be concerned with than one man who was causing no trouble. Despite their fear, their unreadiness, their resolve was nothing less than admirable. The speed with which they'd assembled their basic defenses, and the bravery with which they defended their native land was worthy of the highest praise. Truly, living in such a domestic setting had not curbed the plainsmen's fierceness.

The cloaked figure suddenly came to a stop. Before him, not ten feet away, was the man who doubtlessly made this possible. That face, that hair, those eyes... They were unforgettable. Two years was not enough to fade those memories. Ten years would not be enough. "It seems that you are having difficulties." The cloak figure stated, to get Richter's attention. "You are surrounded on all sides, Richter Abend. Your enemy is strong, his soldiers are as ruthless as wild dogs. Your walls are weak, your men are frightened to the bone, your city is burning around you. Should your walls fall, you will all die. I wonder, will you last the night? Will you even last to see the night?"

[Richter Abend]

Richter's question was never answered, because as soon as the war horn was sounded, Kenshin had darted off as quickly as he had come. That was that, then; the Ilian was left to figure out how to pull the defending forces together by himself. Force of will indeed. How the hell was he supposed to command an army where most people probably had no idea who he was, or if they did know who he was, had no reason for believe he'd be any more fit for command than they were? What a mess. His best bet would be to find the strongest personalities, the men and women who had already taken the reigns as impromptu leaders, and band them together. To do that, though, would require an even stronger personality, but Richter didn't think he was lacking in that category in any way. He was an experienced leader, and would bring this ramshackle army of defenders in line one way or another.

But as Richter turned back towards the city to begin recruiting his lieutenants, he noticed the small, cloaked figured that had come up behind him as he had been talking to Kenshin. It was muttering about the warring chaos that raged about the city, the poor odds, and the gruesome fate that possibly lay in store for the Ilian, and if he hadn't been feeling the after effects of an adrenaline rush, Richter may have found him creepy. But as imposing as the figured tried to be, between the short stature and the grim, melodramatic prose, the pink haired warrior knew exactly who he was talking to.

"Mavick," he uttered, the name bringing a scowl to his face. It had been awhile, and the two hadn't exactly parted on amicable terms. At the time Richter had been angry, upset even, that the shaman had abandoned him before their march to Bern over some petty, moralistic hard-headedness. After what they had gone through, how could Mavick had just up and left like he did? But now, recalling how he had recently left Clair in Bern, the ex-rebel commander was starting to realize he didn't have much ground to stand on in nursing that anger. Not that he ever did. The Ilian never had a very good track record when it came to sticking by people when they needed it. If his heart told him he had something to do, right or wrong, he did it, even if that meant leaving his sister alone in the far north of Ilia. Hopefully that was something he could change when this was all over.

Still, anger didn't often court logic. Richter couldn't help but be bitter.

"What are you doing here?"

[Mavick]

"Mavick."


From beneath his cowl, Mavick smiled. "It is good to see you, Commander." He replied, slowly lowering his hood to look at Richter. Yes, it was indeed Mavick, but not quite the tactician that Richter remembered. The youthful, overconfident young man's face was tired now. Very tired. The darkened skin beneath his eyes hinted that it had been a long time since he had last had a peaceful night's rest, and his smile was weary, almost sad. "How long has it been, Commander? Two years? It's hard to remember. My sense of time gets twisted these days."


"What are you doing here?"

He noted the slightly hostile tone in Richter's voice, but it did not surprise him. He had tried to leave on friendly terms with Richter, but he had left him without a staff officer, with no notice and no chance to make arrangements to replace him. "A good question. I'm not entirely sure." he replied. "Was it random chance? No, that doesn't seem right. I would have known better than to stick around once I heard of the impending danger. Intentional? Yes, it must have been intentional..." He was going off, but it wasn't in his sarcastic manner. His voice, his eyes, it was like he was actually trying to remember his reason for being here. "Was I looking for someone? ...I think I was. Yes, that's it. But who was I looking for? It was all so clear a moment ago. Why can't I...." His voice faded as he became aware that he was not alone. It was as if he'd forgotten Richter was even there.

He looked up into Richter's eyes with his own. Eyes that were so tired now, so devoid of the fire and passion he'd once carried so boisterously. "You are not happy to see me." he stated. It was terribly obvious, it was written all over Richter's face. "I guess I'm not surprised. We had a small argument when we parted ways, didn't we? Yes, that's right. We argued... You were going to Bern, that's right. And I... I didn't want to go with you. I'm sorry about that. I wanted us to leave on more friendly terms. It was my fault, admittedly. I was very unprofessional." He admitted.

"Tell me, Commander. Are we going die?"

[Richter Abend]

Richter gave Mavick a confused look at the shaman spoke to him, or rather questioned himself, about why he was here. This wasn’t the Mavick who had left him in Edessa. Where was the wit? Where was the sharp retort? Where was the sarcastic determination? Where were the plans? This wasn’t him. He looked like him, but this...this Mavick was changed, broken somehow, and it didn’t help that it seemed like a piece of his mind was missing as well. Honestly, the Ilian could help but think it sad, and it drained away what was left of Richter’s apprehension at Mavick’s reappearance.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” muttered Richter in response to Mavick’s atypically pathetic question. “But you won’t end up giving me much of a say in your own survival if you keep moping around like a corpse.” The pink haired Ilian shook his head, then began walking. He waved for Mavick to fall into step behind him. The full reunion would have to wait as they had a battle to win. Richter was tempted to go back and get Elias and Gabriel, but the he had no guarantee the former would be any more willing to come over the wall than he had been earlier, and he had no idea where the latter even was. Kenshin seemed to have the southern entrance locked down pretty light, so that left the north entrance and the east entrance.

All the seige fire was coming from the boats on the east shore, so that was probably where Richter was needed most. They’d need to form an offensive if that wall was going to survive in any substantial fashion. But before he went, he stopped for a brief moment, he turned back to Mavck, who still had that glazed look in his eyes. The Ilian realized he wasn’t going to bring the Ostian into enemy fire if he couldn’t put a fire in his belly. He didn’t need to be gung ho, just not...this.
“I need to you pull it together, or you might as well stay here,” stated Richter, waving a hand in finality. “I’m not about to see you take an arrow because you’re too zoned out to fight.”

[Mavick]

Mavick smiled a bit, even gave a weak chuckle, at Richter's response, until the bit about moping about like a corpse. His smile dropped, and he glanced at the ground. "...Quite." He did not want to think about walking corpses, he had seen the reality of it too many times now. He fell in behind Richter, following the large Illian through the hectic city streets.

It took him a moment to realize Richter had stopped, and he nearly ran into him before it dawned on him. Confused, he looked up at the taller man. Richter's stern words brought a smile to his face, then a soft chuckle, and finally a sad little laugh. "There are far worse fates than death, Commander. Some even welcome it." he replied, stepping around the larger man. He began to walk away, in the same direction Richter had been leading him, but then paused.

"...I'm going to need a good layout of the city and our forces." he stated. He turned his head, to meet Richter's eyes. "Our supplies, our soldier to civilian ratio, all modifications to the city, everything." Adjusting his robes, he then began walking away once more, raising his hand to gesture for Richter to follow him "Step lively, Commander. The fate of an entire city is in your hands."

[Richter Abend]

Richter shook his head, but he couldn't help but crack a smile. Short, pushy, and confident. This Mavick he definitely remembered, and this Mavick he felt directing the men who would be watching his back in battle. But he requests were a little bit out of Richter's current capacities.

"Well," he said with a pause, coming into step next to Mavick. He made sure to take slower steps as to not outpace the much shorter tactician. "The city is pretty circular, but it's Sacaen so it doesn't have any hard and fast boundaries." Richter recalled what he could see from his vantage point before joining the battle as he circled a finger around his head. "The wooden palisade helps rectify that, though. It wraps the entire city, and there's an iron gate where each end of the city's two intersecting main roads would lead out into the plains. The main focus of the battle lies on the western and eastern fronts, cavalry and footmen in the west and ships and siege engines in the east, effectively catching the city in a pincer attack."

The Ilian shrugged, at a loss for what more help he could provide.
"Not much else I can tell you," he said with a frustrated look on his face. "I got here roughly an hour ago. Kenshin shifted command over to me and then bolted before handing me the actual reigns." He shook his head. "I get the idea, though, that there isn't much in way of reigns to take. Might explain why Kenshin was so quick to transfer leadership. The fighting seems pretty disorganized on both sides." Richter's face shifted from frustration to initiative, recalling his initial idea. "That's why I was thinking that if we could actually get a coordinated defense going, I think we could easily turn the tide of the battle." The Ilian pointed a finger in the direction they were walking, towards the eastern gate. "My idea was to single out the men that have taken impromptu leadership and get them working together, and since the battle is thickest to the east, I wanted to start there. You have any opinions?"

[Mavick]

Mavick tsked. "You are not giving me much to work with, Commander." he replied, softly biting the tip of his thumb. "This whole thing is madness, but I suppose the new modus operandi of the world is to let madness rule the day." He turned his head left and right, his eyes darting every which way as he started to formulate his potential plots. There was a way out of this mess. There was always a way out of the mess, one merely had to find it.

"Do you really want to know what I think, Commander?" he inquired, glancing at Richter before returning to his seemingly erratic head motions. "I think you'll all be dead before sundown, followed by the rest of us." Mavick admitted frankly. "Your forces may be similar in number, but your troops lack their ferocity, their experience, and their siege engines. Not to mention the distractions of ensuring the safety of the women and children from catapult barrages and volleys of arrows." Almost nonchalantly, he adjusted his robes. "Fortunately for you, Commander, you have one thing that they do not." Mavick looked up at Richter, actually smiling. He felt something burning inside him, a feeling he hadn't felt in two long, horrible years. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, in spite of everything going on around him, Mavick felt sincerely happy inside. "You have a master tactician to save your sorry asses."

He felt giddy. It was strange, really. To feel so excited and happy when it was likely he wouldn't live to see the next sunrise, but he was all the same. For the first time in years, his mind felt perfectly clear. He could see the task before him, and envision it in it's grand entirety. Oh, how he had once taken that wonderful, beautiful, perfect state of mind for granted. It was utter bliss. "East is the best place to start. They are struggling to deal with the siege engines, and require a clear chain of command and some manner of concise plan as quick as possible. We're going to need to dispose of those catapults, Commander. As far as I know, we have no engines of our own to counter this, nor any mages with the ranged capabilities of destroying them from afar. Which means we have two options. We can employ tunnels and collapse the ground beneath them, which will cause less casualities on our side, but will take time. Or, alternatively, we send a particularly group of particularly brave, noble, insane, or absolutely stupid men on a suicide charge to destroy as many as they can before they are killed by the enemy's archers and infantry." He cast a glance at Richter. "I don't suppose this city has a decent amount of prisoners to 'volunteer' for such a task? Probably not. I'll try to think of other counter measures, but for now, those are the two choices you are saddled with."

[Richter Abend]

As always, Richter never appreciated Mavick's casual negativity, but he did appreciate the little tactician's overflowing, arrogant confidence. Sure it could be grating in casual conversation, and not always warranted at that, but in battle it usually meant that the Ostian was onto something, which right now was exactly what the pink haired Ilian needed from him. If Mavick felt confident in his abilities and his plans, then Richter did too.

"Let's go with the suicide charge," Richter replied, choosing the arguably more reckless of the two options. Digging a tunnel would be safer, but it would take far, far too long for his liking, and right now the emphasis was on getting the job done as quickly as possible. A direct assault was by far the best course of action to ensure expediency, and besides, the Ilian much preferred direct assaults to roundabout tactics. "If we can cut a path through the enemy lines, I can lead a strike force right to the siege engines and neutralize the long range offensive." Richter punched his left palm with his right fist, then looked down at Mavick, a sly grin cracking open the right side of his face. "I think I'll be able to get out there and back alive, however."

"The only problem there is recruiting the right men for the job," the Ilian continued. "I'd rather not resort to witless prisoners if I don't have to." He didn't have the men at his side that he would feel most comfortable charging into battle with, so he'd have to settle with simply finding defenders fearless enough or stupid enough to go along with him and stick with him until the task was done. "Obviously you're not coming, Kenshin is busy holding the South gate, and I've been separated from the two men I came here with." Richter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. This was the City of Heroes, so you'd think at least some of the warriors that originally fought Hargus would be around, but that didn't seem to be the case. Boy would Richter kill to have Rayl or Clair here to back him up right about now.

"We need to hurry and get to the East gate. Maybe I'll find some recruits there, and maybe you'll find someone who can give you more information about the city."

[Mana]

Mana had arrived in this city yesterday to reinforce the defenders. The girl wouldn't sit idly when the famous City of Heroes was in danger. She had no doubt Kenshin could repel the insolent invaders but Hargus and his generals would be a decent challenge even for him, he would need help as many as he could get. Speaking about Hargus, she still couldn't believe the rumor about his resurrection. Maybe a pretender just used his name to gather an army, maybe not. Anyway, when the rumors about this invasion had reached her, the swordswoman rushed to the city immediately without hesitation, heading directly toward her first war. The rumors said that the invaders brought thousands bandits and mercenaries in their ranks in the goal to obliterate Kenshin and his peers. One more reason for Mana to lend her aid to her hero.

Now the girl was sleeping soundly in a temporary barrack, tired after helping with the preparation. Mana had wanted to take only a short nap but it then made her miss the first skirmish. And for some reason no had come to wake her up. Now as the city was bombed and burned by the catapults and arrows covered the sky, Mana was still having nice a dream about her winning in her duel against Kenshin. None of those burning projectiles in the East or explosion in North could wake her. Well, at least until one of those damned projectiles landed just a few meters from her sleeping place.

--------------5 minutes later--------------

"Seriously! How could no one come to wake me?" she grumbled as she poured cold water to her head. The cold refreshing sensation washed the sleepiness away, giving her a right mental state to join the battle. Mana wasted no time, she went to the wall to observe the battlefield. As she arrived, she girl felt slightly intimidated by the thousands invaders that surrounded the city. This was the first time she fought in a war, in a siege. Fighting in one-on-one match was entirely different from this.

"Tsk...so this is the bandit king's army, huh? Not bad." Mana then searched for something she could help with. The other defenders had moved to help with the defense by protecting the gate or evacuating the non-combatants, she couldn't allowed herself to do nothing. "There must be something I could do..." she muttered. The girl then noticed that some groups of warriors had already left to engage the enemy's vanguard. "I see, I guess fighting defensively isn't our only option. It's risky...but worth a shot." Mana might not have such keen mind like a genius strategist or a experienced general, but even she knew that it would be an advantage if they could defeat enemy's vanguard. It could boost morale for the defenders' side and striked fear into the invaders' heart. Now knowing what she had to do, the girl approached the gate guards. "Please open the gate, I wish to join the battle outside," she asked. The guards looked unsure how to respond to her request. Opening the gate a little for her to slip by wouldn't hurt but.... "I dunno, miss. If you really want to go, you should have joined Lord Kenshin when he and his men marched. Isn't it a bit late to join them now?" one of the guard shrugged as she answered. Kenshin? Did this guy just say Kenshin? It seemed the leader had left to draw the first blood. "Unfortunately, I wasn't there when the left. Open the gate, please! I have to assist him!" Seeing that the girl wouldn't give up, the guards reluctantly let her go outside. They thought letting one extra fighter to assist their comrades in the frontline would benefit them.

"Alright! This is it!" she thought. Mana composed herself, fastening her belt and slowly pulling out Falcatta from the scabbard. She then searched for long red messy hair, which was Kenshin's trademark.

[Mavick]

Mavick sighed. "Of course you would choose that option. Should I have expected any less?" He turned his head and looked up at Richter. "Just remember what I told you once before. You're a leader. You have a duty to your men to survive." He reached out and grabbed the Ilian's wrist. "...We have much we need to discuss, Richter... So please. Do not die here today." he all but whispered. "I've finally found something familiar. Something that I can remember from back then. Do not take that from me. I don't think I can do it a second time." His hand fell from the Ilian's wrist, and he fell silent.

[Richter Abend]

"But of course," Richter replied, a cocky arrogance in his voice. "I mean, if I died, who would lead these men? You? Kenshin? Elias?" The Ilian shook his head as if the idea was preposterous, but he held a small grin on the corner of his mouth. "Please. My mission is too important for me to go throwing my life away against some nobody like Hargus in some backwater like this. I plan on winning this battle and walking away from it." The commander then turned and walked away with a pivot and a jerk of his shoulder. He'd come a long way from being the embittered young mercenary who could only look on helplessly while stronger warriors fought before him, and gone was the conflicted avatar of angst and vengeance that had served under Kraft. There was only one thought in Richter's mind right now: victory.

"Now let's go."

[Burt]

Burt swung his axe with vigor far greater than he had done before. It had been quite some time since he was in a fight like this. Before hand he only fought little brawls or defended himself from bandits. Sure he kept his skill up for skill sake, but he did not fight for pleasure like most of his family. In fact that was the very reason Burt tried to avoid combat most of the time. He did not want to fall into the same chaotic trap most of his ken do. Fighting for the point of fighting and spilling blood with glee. Instead he chose the path of a historian. A civil job with no combat requirements, but yet he turns around and found himself here on the battlefield swinging his axe along side people he really did not know and protecting a home that was not his.

Burt told himself that he was here to record the history of the battle, but what was he really doing here. Historians do not copy down history as it happen. That was the chronologist job. Yet Burt took it upon himself to do it. Was he really hear to record history ,or even to defend the city. Was Burt really here to satisfy his taste for blood. He was apart of that family, and violence seemed to run as deep as their veins.

"Look out", shouted one of the men at arms as a bandit slashed out at Burt. The fighter was too busy thinking on his reason for being their to notice his approach before hand. Quickly Burt turned, but it was not enough. The blade slid across Burt's flesh and cut into his unprotected left arm.

"Dirty Brigand", shouted Burt as he took a swing at the man with his right arm. The axe swung through the air toward the brigands skull, but the swordsmen was far to quick for the wounded fighter. He took a step back and dodged Burt's axe by a inch. He then lunged in and slashed across Burt's chest. The axe slashed into armor Burt had hidden under his grey cloak.

"What the", spoke the swordsmen as he expected to see a sea of blood. Burt took the opportunity to front kick the man in the chest sending him backwards as the axeman regained his baring. This was going to be a tough fight.