New Vance City

Deep within the Bone Yard, the War Beast Pens serve as a grim crucible where Raiders forge their most terrifying weapons: mutated creatures and captured shamblers repurposed as living siege engines. This brutal enclave is less a menagerie and more a weaponized breeding ground, where feral beasts are starved, trained, and sharpened into shock troops for raids against rival gangs and city defenses. Raiders employ crude conditioning methods—fire, pain, and cruel harnesses—to awaken latent aggression and train these abominations to charge through barricades and sow chaos. The air hangs heavy with the scent of decay, sweat, and animal musk, punctuated by snarls and the echoing crack of whips. Each cage rattles and creaks under the weight of restless monstrosities, their eyes reflecting primal rage twisted by starvation and fear. Here, life is cheap and the strong are bred to spill blood—both beast and human alike.

The War Beast Pens are a savage patchwork of rusted chain-link cages, jagged scrap metal fencing, and haphazard barricades scavenged from wrecked vehicles and fallen raider war rigs. Thick ropes and chains bind massive, hulking shapes—some shambling horrors with patches of rotting flesh, others grotesquely mutated animals twisted by exposure to radiation and chemical toxins. Flickering propane torches cast long, jittering shadows over slick, blood-stained dirt and scattered bones. Within the gloom, growls, shrieks, and guttural roars erupt as creatures lash out, pacing and lunging at their confines. Raiders move like vultures, their spiked armor clanking, wielding whips, jagged blades, and crude energy stunners to control their living weapons. The smell of burnt hair, wet fur, and rot mingles with the acrid smoke rising from makeshift braziers. Above, tangled barbed wire and scrap metal towers loom, their watchmen ever vigilant against escape attempts or surprise attacks.