Welcome to Warra

There were dark outside. Pitch black. Mirroring back at her were a male face. Bearded and long-haired. What a weird punishment. Gender-bent and sent to some tiny province.
Taking her rifle she walked over the floors and over to the man in charge. ‘’you are here to defend yourself, the town, and it’s inhabitants from the enemies in the dark. They may look cuddly and cute, but they are not ,they are filty evil animals. Ready for only one thing. Eating you and everyone you love. Is this understood?’’ he said. To which she replied with a weird male voice ‘’Yes sir. Understood’’ and then the mayor told her to leave.

Walking with heavy boots and a blue coat. Only her eyes were left. Brown eyes with a green ring. Not much to do about this situation, weird planet with colonists. This was her punishment. Defending those fucking colonists who probably would o’laughed at her in her old body.

Walking over to the hover-pickup-truck and driving in with other hunters and militiamen. They were sent to the planet to work , now that their sentences were done they could no longer leave. So many had just taken up drinking, fighting and had ended up here, with rifles and guns.

She had a ballistic rifle and a laser-pistol. She liked her automatic laser-pistol. Goes well against the beasts of the planet. Her lacking half-elf ear were seen. And one orc weearing a big coat asks her ‘’whatta happened to yer ear, laddie?’’ to which she replies ‘’fight’’ and points at the stars.

He nods. ‘’ah. Spacer or navy-man. Myself aint much of a smart one. So these beats are good yes?’’ to which she replies ‘’yes. They are good hunt. Some hunt in packs. Some hunts alone. Avoid the spikers. They can detach their spikes to hurt ye’’ to which the orc nods.

As the hunters and militiamen gets to the town they are going to, they find the townsfolk are still building primitive defenses. Wooden palisades, dirt walls and stone walls, the town buildings are in a circle, with the streets filled with palisades, walls and vehicles sat up in defensive positions.

‘’THE HUNTERS HERE GUYS’’ one look-out shouts from atop a chimney. As someone else then starts to wave at us.

We are driven to the middle of town. Where other hunters and soldiers from the planetary garrison are waiting.

‘’the militiamen are going over there right?’’ someone asks. A human who seems to be a militiaman from his blue banner with red stars. A sergeant replies ‘’yes, they are going there. They will be accompanied by a group of hunters. The soldiers are staying in the town-center as a last stand’’


I loads my rifle, bit primitive some may say. But effective, bullets don’t run out of electric power. We’re sent to the outskirts outside the palisade and out to the dirt walls. Townsfolk have formed some sort of militia there too. How intriguing. Lets hope they shoot me instead of the monsters that go bump in the dark.

Sillja and me stands out there by the darkness. Sillja is a 7feet tall wolfman. Wolflady I guess. Claws, fangs and all. She hates the planet of Warra a lot. Too hot for her she says. Good thing we’re in winter now. But it seems to just be like her home-planet’s spring.

Trousers, coat and rifle. She carries a few rifles, she’s the heavy-lifter of us. Her stetson hat is a bit silly, but she likes it.

Booze. Flask out of coat, silver gleaming in the lights of techno-magic light-flooders.
Space-rum. The best rum there ever were. Probably cheapest too. I like it, so I don’t care.

‘’hey.. You hear that?’’ Sillja asks me in her lovely voice. And I listens while the flask stays at my lips. Steps. The monsters are coming.

No idea what they are. We just calls them fillers. They fill the herds of them. Some sort of nomadic beasts. Flesh-eating cattle. Some of the humans calls them flesh-cows. Whatever a cow is. That thing that are now charging at us, aint it.

Rifle up. Aiming in the dark. Gun-fire are heard. Plasma, laser, ballistic, magic darts are flying. The herd of fillers charging at us with a horrible war-cry of a sound. Sillja screams back at them and fires her rotating gun. Minigun? Whatever she called it, it’s firing at the herd storming towards us.

Screaming from inside the walls. Turrets being taken up on the walls. People without guns coming out the gate now. Axes, sledgehammers, tools of all kinds, charging at the cattle. They must be stupid. But what do I know what they are thinking.


‘’WE CAN’T LET THE HERD OF FLESH-COWS COME NEAR US!!’’ one man shouts’’WE SHOULD FIGHT FOR OUR HOMES TOO. TAKE YER TOOLS. WE’RE FIGHTING EM BEFORE THEY GET IN HERE!!’’ and the word spreads trough the town. Letting outsiders fight their battle for them don’t seem to be a thing they like.

Outside the gate stands a pair of hunters, firing at the herd. A drunk half-elf man missing an ear, and one of them dog-folks. The war-cry of the townsfolk are heard as the ones without guns charges forward with their tools.

When morning dusk comes with it’s mist, the dying and dead outside are there, I sigh, drinks up the last of my flask’s rum and says ‘’they were stupid so they died. Warra have no wish for the weak’’ to which Sillja says ‘’Seems you’re right, Sonja. Come, lets head to the town’s tavern. Surely we can get some booze since we helped save their town’’