Varse are the type of alien to shove you into a trunk as opposed to a UFO. Board City is filled with gangs of these alien scumbags, each one vying for power and influence to prove their way of life is best. Out of all these gangs, two have risen to the top, Yelo, and The Marauders. For years The Marauders have been enjoying a golden age for themselves, but all is threatened whenYelo comes up with a plan to take their power back and wipe every Marauder from the face of the city. Can The Marauders save themselves from this fate or have the good times made them too weak to rule. Order now to find out which of these factions will reign victorious and claim the city as there own!
Vara stood atop the stoney gray building and looked down eagerly at the warehouse below her. She gave a quick lick to the dark green nutriorb that she had impaled on a toothpick. It was high in protein like all her snacks, and the taste reminded her of her Wasting. Bruteil was a brutal art, and the cost on its user’s body is incredibly steep. To Vara, the Wasting had seemed like one long continuous moment, but from what the monks had told her, she’d been strapped to that bed for several weeks before her muscles reconstructed themselves into a more fitting form for the martial art. The monks would dump buckets of a high protein pink sludge into her throat, and the throats of the other initiates that made it that far. She was the only one that survived the process that time. It was a defining experience, to say the least. When she had left the infirmary with her new smile, she also took the chance to change into something other than the dress that she had been wearing for two days. Vara was now wearing a fashionable black vest with some type of fur sewn into the edges. She didn’t know what it was from, but it was gray. She also wore baggy black pants, combat boots, and her silver hilts were hanging off of a silver belt with an “M” in the middle. She could feel her heart pumping already. From what she was told, there were only eight guards in the building, and she’d already seen two of them walk in and out during their rounds. Winal was probably trying to keep a low profile, which was always a good idea for somebody in his trade. But she didn’t really think that mattered for him anymore. Eight would be enough for this to count as a decent workout, though it would undoubtedly be more fun with actual combatants instead of the pieces of metal that flew at her in her gym. The rusted doors to the warehouse opened up and two men in dirty green jumpers walked out. One was holding a rapid fire, but the other was undoubtedly armed with something. Good.