The Village of the Boyagers

[Ringo]

I need more now:(

It's a good one, worth the wait.

[Hiro]

I can wait, but it offer to be soon because It's getting really late and There's nothing to fill the time, but don't rush it.

[Ringo]

Socks shifted the satchel to his right shoulder, easing the tension that had been weighing down on him for the past few miles. Trees, fantastic. There were lots and lots of trees and the funny thing was, they all looked the same. Behind him, ahead of him and to his sides the entire forrest was lined with the bloody things and all a guy had to do to get lost was turn around. Sam and that creep from Nsider had been chatting it up behind him for the past hour. Steal wasn't happy about it, even from a distance he could see Steal had always been kind of sweet on old Sammie. The fact that she'd suddenly warmed up to some nutcase with a penchant for garroting people he disagreed with didn't help things much either. Oh it was apparent to everyone just what type of abilities this 'distinguished gentleman' excelled in. Socks had noted him slipping the coin purse deftly from the pocket of the merchant they'd met with earlier with such utter amorality he'd found it no wonder the man was squeamish about entering Outsider. Whenever the subject of actually negotiating with Carello was brought up Ringo would sidestep with some sleight of hand or simply dismiss it with jokingly. Steal's jaw set and Socks could see the makings of something nasty as Sam giggled while Ringo demonstrated some parlor trick. Socks shifted the satchel back to his left shoulder and looked towards Clair
"So that's been six miles, you mind carrying it the rest of the way?"
"I'm busy with stuff right now." Socks raised his eyebrows as he scoffed
"Stuff, what stuff?"
"Navigational stuff." she turned back and smiled coyly "If you don't stop your whining I'm going to turn this expedition around, mister."
"But mooom" Socks teased, doing his best imitation of an irritable child "I'm hungryyy..." Clair smirked before looking back down at the compass Hiro held.
It was only a few miles more, he could wait.
"Sam?" it was Steal speaking. The concern in his voice was readily apparent.  Sam's eyes had gone vacant again, she was mumbling to herself. The first few times it had happened Socks assumed she was crying out for attention. But seeing it firsthand gave him a certain appreciation for her uncanny abilities, as well as a certain wariness. Without warning Sam's eyes widened with alarming panic, blurting the first thing that came to mind.
"Sock's, down!"
Socks dropped instinctively as a searing pain tore into his shoulder. Blood scarlet trickles made their way from the sucking crossbow bolt wound. They'd found them! Steal dropped behind a fallen log and began loading a bolt into the crossbow. Another bolt whizzed through the air, piercing the tree behind Clair. Socks gripped the bolt and felt waves of anguish sear through him like a firebrand. Twisting the bolt he began to slowly pull, letting his pain fuel him as he drove the projectile further from him. Steal landed a shot from his position, sinking the bolt deep into the riders abdomen. Socks felt a twinge of admiration, he didn't scream once. He just kind of upped and died, falling from the treetop with little more than a leave padded "thump". He could hear them coming, their footsteps gliding effortlessly across the forrest floor as they darted through the trees. Socks knelt behind an oak, listening intently as the assassins closed in. Clair had just finished loading the Flintlock she'd purchased, Socks had thought it was a petty purchase, nothing more than an antique of a bygone era. Watching the first one's head cave inwards, his brains blown clean through as his limp body skipped across the dirt ground gave him a particular admiration for her choice in weaponry. Socks gripped the bloodied bolt tightly, the second assailant had been mere feet from him, completely unaware of his presence as he focused on the reloading Flintlock. Socks rounded the tree and jammed the bolt deeply into the goggled eye socket. He seemed to squeal as Socks wriggled the bolt back and forth
"Hurts, don't it?!" he snarled before yanking the bolt, and eye, from the screaming head. The second one was much easier. He'd come at him with katana raised high above his head, completely exposing his soft belly. The blade enough was sound, if its owner hadn't been quite so dumb as to let his guard down it might not have had such an inglorious career. A flashed registered in Socks mind before he realized just what had happened. Three throwing blades stuck deep into the torso of the rider with scarlet tails filtering down his camouflaged clothing. Apparently their 'friend' served some usefullness, for now. Socks ripped one of the minuscule blades from the mans abdomen and let him bleed out as he fought. A third rider leapt forward only to have his kneecap blown asunder by the large ball bearing in Clair's pistol. Ringo and Steal were tag-teaming a pair not far from them, one playing bait while the other eliminating the would-be killer with incredible efficiency. Socks turned his attention toward Sam who stood pinned against a tree, the riders blade inching closer to her throat with every passing second.
Socks twisted the mans arm from behind and ground his face against the bark of a nearby tree. Socks felt a rush as the man's form went in and out of unconsciousness as he beat his bleeding skull against the tree with sadistic pleasure. Once sure he was amply unable to respond Socks gripped the mans arm tighter, twisting further and further until shoulder cracked against ripping muscle. Twisting the arm completely out of socket Socks drove the throwing knife into the screeching mans shoulder, letting the serrated blade do the work as he sawed near effortlessly through the connective tissue that pieced the arm and shoulder meat together. With a triumphant roar Socks ripped the arm asunder as blood gushed from the meaty stub. With sudden realization Socks stooped down with arm in hand to the writhing form unfortunate to still be left alive, Clair had warmed him, up now he was going to finish him.
"I liked him, what do you think I'm going to do to you?" he growled menacingly.
"We weren't... sent to kill... you." the man spoke through pained gasps. Sock's eyes widened, standing up he pondered aloud, allowing Steal to slip a blade effortlessly through the man's neck.
"Hiro. Where is Hiro?

Hiro darted desperately through the dense foliage, his breath was labored and heavy. He'd run at least a half-mile and still the scouts followed from behind, never bothering to try to take a shot at him. His muscles ached in agonizing protest, telling him to lie down and wait for death. He couldn't die, not now. Picking up his pace he stumbled clumsily into an opening. Waiting for him stood Meta-Knight, next to him several dozen of his killers. They weren't chasing him, they were cutting him off. And he'd walked right into it.

[Hiro]

OH. SHIT. That was really graphic and brutal! Holy crap, what will become of me? CLIFF HANGER, HANGING FROM A CLIFF! AND THAT'S WHY HE'S CALLED CLIFF HANGER!

[Ringo]

I'm done for tonight. Feel free to add thoughts as well as speculate on the story.

[Hiro]

I will die and then come back more awesome, like Gandalf did.   Good night Ringo, you've earned a good rest.

[Hiro]

I'm gonna do a children's book version of this

[Socks]

Socks goes Rambo, nice chapter Ringo.

[Sam]

I'm a little confused, I thought they were sent to kill us. 

[Socks]

They were but the one guy may have been trying to say that we were no their main objective.

[Sam]

They were but the one guy may have been trying to say that we were no their main objective.

Ah, that makes sense.

You're welcome, by the way, for saving you and stuff.

[Socks]

You're welcome, by the way, for saving you and stuff.

"Socks turned his attention toward Sam who stood pinned against a tree, the riders blade inching closer to her throat with every passing second. Socks twisted the mans arm from behind and ground his face against the bark of a nearby tree."

I'm not a thanking man but actions do speak for themselves.

[Kalahari Inkantation]

when will i be in it
This should be a movie.

[Socks]

when will i be in it

What need do we have for a scrawny 12 year old black kid with glasses? 

[Squirtlejazz]

Story is amazing.