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Whereas a lesser warlord would’ve stayed behind his warriors, using them as fodder to pave the way to a steady victory, King Krezzman stood at the front lines, raining hell upon the people of New Reno, side-by-side with the most brave and bloodthirsty of his soldiers. 

[b]“Stand and embrace your fate!”[/b] He bellowed, his Plasma Rifle loosing rounds of chemical death upon a pack of the Donna’s men. 

All around him, flames leapt towards the sky, as black smoke rolled ever upwards. Bodies littered the streets, whilst those who were lucky enough to escape the cannibal horde’s wrath fled deeper into the city. 

Once the last droplets of blood had been spilled, and the weapons of his men had quieted, it was the barking of gunfire still coming from the Cracked Glass that caught the Super Mutant’s attention. 

[b]“Press the attack,”[/b] he instructed the men around him [b]“I will deal with this little nuisance...myself.” [/b]

King Krezzman stomped over to the pub, forcing the door off of its hinges, and hurling it over his shoulder. He stepped inside, finding the bodies of his men strewn around his massive feet. 

[b]“I’ll commend you on surviving this long,”[/b] The King’s laughed boomed outwards, as he addressed the band of survivors gathered in the pub [b]“but your good fortune has run out.”[/b] 

The Super Mutant, pulled a plasma cell off of his belt, slipping into a socket on his rifle. 

[b]“Time to die.” [/b]