The Village of the Boyagers

[Ringo]

Alright, it's a fan-fic. Thought I'd make it. I make it up as I go.

The Village of the Boyagers

Once upon a time, there was Nsider. Long, long ago people would get together and talk. Not about nothin' important, they'd just talk. There were feuds, there were fights, and there were friends. Those days are gone. Nobody knows where it went, it just upped and left.  Those who didn't perish in the split often fellin the quarrels from neighboring tribes. Factions arose and there was strife so brutal, so foreign to these young it left few untouched by its malevolance. But as long as there has been life, there has been hope. And no matter how oppressed hope always shines through...

Wrench lifted the axe high into the air, careful not to strain himself. His muscles screamed against him in protest with every stroke. He had been a simple boy, innocent of the horrors that were so certain to come. He could still hear their screams in his head. So many lost, so many gone so- He shook the thought away with a downward strike that sent a hairlike schism arching through the log. Beads of sweat ran off his chin as he leaned his head to rest. Summoning every resevoir of strength left in his exhausted being he swung down. Success! The wood split with such a fury it sent him to his back as pine and bark tore loose of each other and fell helpless onto the knee high grass. He smiled and lay his head down as he stared into the cloudless sky. The ringing in his ears overpowered every other sense in him but he had done it, he'd supplied fuel for his kin. Victory was his! Slowly he felt the dread begin to wash over him, there was no ringing in his ears. It was screaming.

Wrench cautiously wriggled through the grass, careful to make sure not to be seen. The screaming was getting louder, changing pitch with every voice added, then visciously removed. He couldn't quite make out what was happening but from what he could hear, there were several dozen ahead of him. As he began to make out the events past the knoll ahead his stomach began to turn. They were being slaughtered. From what he could tell there was no resistance from the receiving party. Pulling out a pair of miniature binoculars Wrench began to survey the area. Buggies, trucks, motorcycles and armor clad fighters poured into the village slaughtering all that stood in their way. It was then the dread moment of realization crept into his mind. He knew these people. They were like him, before the split. Nsiders. He saw KittykatKstar, Brahummr, Thatperson. At one time another he had viewed them as fellow humans. Now they were being butchered as animals. Men, women, children... None were deemed untouchable. Anyone who showed the slightest bit of resistance was killed. The few frightened villagers who remained were callously coralled into the barn by a few armed warfighters. The few fighters barred the main door and began to douse the barn in liquid. Wrench watched in horror, his mouth agape and face white as marble as the doors were barred shut, the barn set ablaze. Flames lapped the exterior of the barn, encroaching further and further up the buildings wall and into the loft. The Nsider's cries had gone from tear soaked sobs to terror ridden screams as the burning gasoline began to sear flesh and hair. Wrench felt numb, he didn't know what to feel. A wave of sorrow and grief seized him brisquely. They were dead! All of those memories, the lives lost. He'd never hear from them- A nauseous wave of emotion began to fill him until he could no longer handle it. Wracked with pain Wrench doubled over and emptied his stomach amidst the taste of salt stained tears. He let out a whisper, barely audible over a breath "The horror...The horror".

Comments?

[Placebo Headwound]

Please let me be in this one.

[Hiro]

Me too, i wanna be in it! Christ, that was a little too good

[Ringo]

Darkness had begun to fall on Boyah. As the evening fell and dusk dulled the eyes the miniscule camp of Boyah prepared for an evening of slumber. Nobody had expected them to come, riders, marauders, killers. Well fed killers at that. The boyagers heard them, their engines roared like hell born beasts. Steal rushed to the gate to meet the oncoming menace with several of the gate sentries. To have fought them would be foolhardy, to surrender would be suicidal. Turning he noted Thief's sunken eyes staring back at him. Food was scarce as were resources. Scouts had been sent out to find more and most had returned by now with little more than scraps. Starvation had taken its toll on everyone. Sometimes he would wake up to find the cold had taken one more, and it was all he could do to stop from weeping.
"I take it this isn't a social call." Thief half murmured to himself
"Anyone tell you, you look dead?" Steal smirked
"Look who's talking." Thief returned the half hearted smile, or was it a grimace? Steal knew he was going to die eventually, they both did. The quips helped take the edge off of it.
As the buggies circled the encampment several times before grinding to a halt at the gate.
"State your business and get out!" Steal barked. Slowly, an unsettling figure rose from the passenger seat of the buggy. His voice was smooth as snake oil he bore a dark full bodied mustache that curled across his lips. His hat beckoned to an earlier era, flat and round with an even length about it. His attire was worn down but for these dark times, it was attire fit for a prince
"Ladies and gentlemen... I've traveled over half our state to be here tonight. I couldn't get away sooner because my new forum was coming in at Nsider2 and I had to see about it. That site is now flowing at over two thousand members and it's paying me an income of five thousand dollars a week. I have two others advertising and I have sixteen producing at Wichita. So, ladies and gentlemen... if I say I'm a forum man you will agree. You have a great chance here, but bear in mind, you can lose it all if you're not careful. Out of all men that beg for a chance to run your forums, maybe one in twenty will be forum men; the rest will be speculators-men trying to get between you and the forum man-to get some of the money that ought by rights come to you. Even if you find one that has money, and means to buy, he'll maybe known nothing about Nsider and he'll have to hire out the job on contract, and then you're depending on a contractor that's trying to rush the job through so he can get another contract just as quick as he can. This is the way this w-."
"Get to the point"
The man cleared his throat and continued
"What do you have now, boy? 600 members? I offer you nothing more than what you already have. Your lives. I hope I'm quite clear when I say refusal is not an option. You see, I own your forum and indeed your very existance. "
Steal stared in shock. How? Reaper ran Boyah.
"You're full of it! How is that possible?" Thief protested vehemently, Steal could see the veins popping out in his neck.
"It's quite simple I assure you." the man calmly retorted "I was sold the URL to Boyah, I own the name and therefore the forum."
"But this is our home." A quiet voice penetrated the conversation, it was Sam. Her starved figure clung to a rag of a cloak as she spoke. "Where will we go?"
"You may join my forums if you wish. We'll be most happy to let you join, provided you abide by my laws."
"I'd rather starve free than gorge as a slave!" a voice in the crowd booned. Quickly several others began to chant the saying. Over and over again they repeated the saying, they were proud. They were cold, hungery, tired and afraid but they were Boyagers! And no man on this earth could tear them from their home. Soon the deafening roar of the engines was eclipsed by their mantra. Resigned, Ejraven sat down and muttered through grinding teeth.
"Again you have forced me to unleash my dogs of war." Without warning a forklift crept towards the gate, through the darkness Steal could make out a form straddled to the forklift like a used doll. No. No it couldn't be!
"Wrench!" Sam cried, voicing Steal's fears. He had been sent out to gather firewood he hadn't even thought of where he'd been. The broken figure rolled its head loosely to the left. He was alive!
"Look he's moving!" Geno shouted. Steal felt himself tense, something terrible was about to happen here. He smelled something, it smelled like fuel.
"You think he's moving now do ya'?" one of Raven's cronies sneered. With a flick of the wrist the mercenary ignited a flare and tossed it beneath the wriggling shape. Wrench's body ignited into an inferno. His body writhing uncontrollably in agony as flesh began to slough off.
"NO!" Sam shrieked hystericaly. Hot scalding tears rolled down her face as she watched her friend spasm. Wrench was dead, he was sure now. Nothing more than a barely held together skeleton with meat and flesh patching it together. Without warning Wrench let out a howling cry, a death throw, as if both body and soul screamed in agonizing unison as his body was literally eaten away, before his head sank limply. Steal turned Sam away and held her close against the bitter cold.
"Don't let 'em see you cry, you hear me Sam? Don't let them see you cry. Let it turn."
EJRaven's face began to dim as his cold black eyes reflected the burning corpse of their former friend's body
"I will be expecting your answer by tommorrow."

[superclucky]

I love it.

[Hiro]

Damn ringo has talent! Poor wrench!

[Sam]

aw

wrench ;-;

[KonohaShinobi]

oh wow, that was pretty nice.

[Paul]

too bad, sir 

[Ringo]

Socks drew a puff of from his cigarrette from the shortened stub draped between his index and forefingers, holding in the breath for a few fleeting moments. The whole camp was pretty spooked over what had happened with Wrench. Socks had to admit to himself, Raven's ability to wage psychological warfare was par none. He'd heard about this sort of thing before,entire forums gone within a split-second, but he'd never thought it would happen to him. If they came, when they came, he'd be ready for them. Slowly exhaling he watched as the menthol flavored cloud rise towards the single flueroscent bulb bobbing back and forth in the cramped tent.
"Socks!" Selkie snapped "Put that thing out!" Socks crossed his arms, stiffening his neck back in defiance
"You gonna make me?" he smirked, extinguishing the burning out stub on his thigh. Selkie's throat dried as he watched him grind the butt out into his leg. Socks never broke eye contact, never flinched as the skin blistered like a wasp bite. The tent filled with an anxious silence save for the hiss of the dying cigarrete.
"Socks! Selk! Cut it out! I won't have my men killing each other. Not now." Bassir hoarsely barked as he looked over the terrain map. The valley they were in provided a relief from the harshened wind that ravaged the plains beyond the hills. Past rolling green pastures and fruitfull plains lay a barren desolate sandtrap that spread for miles. The badlands, as they had been dubbed, consisted of a few nomadic IF tribes who could be described as mostly peaceful, and occasionally barbaric. There was always the chance of being raided or attacked by one of the less benevolent forums. That was a chance they would have to take. He'd heard rumors in his earlier years of Nsider from exiles who had been sent into banishment of cannibalistic tribes consuming the flesh of wandering traders unfortunate enough to wander to far from the safety of the forums. He had known that most exiles had a tendency of expanding upon the truth for a fantastic story, but in his heart he felt a dark pit of dread forming in him. How would they survive? With no food, no fuel, few weapons and dwindling numbers he felt his only choice for his people were enslavement, or utter annihilation in the merciless blinding desert. Reaper held his head in his hand, shaking his head slowly back and forth he let out a sigh
"I...I just don't know. What can we do? What is there to do?"
"We fight or we die." Socks declared
"That's suicide!"  Vostroya interjected "We don't have the numbers or the manpower to-" Socks slammed his fist down into the card table hosting the map, bending the legs of the table inward as the cheap metal twisted in. His eyes bulging as he growled
"We don't have any other options! If surrender they'll kill us, if we run they'll know we left and sooner or later, they'll catch up. You think that they're simply going to let us go? If we fight, maybe, just maybe we'll survive with enough numbers to keep the forum going."
"What if only some of us go?" This time it was JMV speaking, hunkered over in a steel folding chair his eyes seemed to fix on nothing as he spoke.
"They'll be expecting an exodus, so... what if we only send a few members out?"
"Why?" Selkie inquired
"To get help." JMV's eyes focused into Selkie intently as he deliberately spelled out his plans.
"Do you think Karel like's the idea of losing his forum to some suit's armed muscle? And silver has a score to settle, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to see Raven out of the way. The nomadic tribes to the eastern plains simply need some persuasion. Raven has hundreds on his side, but if we gather the clans we will be all but unstoppable." The despondant suffering felt throughout the tent began to glisten of hope. The tent fell silent for a few seconds as each boyager contemplated what must be done. Alone they were defenseless, but united as Nsiders they would be able to topple the tyranny that had weighed down so heavily upon them. It was dangerous, they might not survive. But to not try at all simply ensured death. As if one voice spoke for the collective thoughts of all those present a simple question working it's way to a head was finally uttered.
"Who do we send?"

[Himu]

It's good, but will I be in it? ;-;

[Hiro]

Great as always. Who do you decide to be in these things? And Vostroya is Snorkel

[Sam]

I just realized something, Ringo made me look like a wimp. 

[Ringo]

Great as always. Who do you decide to be in these things? And Vostroya is Snorkel

Random selection. I pick a name from the list and go with it.

[Hiro]

I see. Is the story going to focus on the party they send, the Boyah camp, or both them and the camp?