Unstable Reality 18+

The players awake in the back of a large caged wagon, surrounded by human slave traders.

A tall, broad-shouldered warforged sits against the side of the cage. His body is made mostly of unpolished metal, with dark wood visible in his joints and lower torso. Upon his constructed body he wears a dark brown cloak, though one would not think that a warforged would need protection from the elements.

Not needing to sleep, he had spent the night studying the other prisoners, wondering if any of them would be useful in an escape attempt. As they awake, he looks each in the eye and silently nods to them. While he does not know what is going through their minds, he hopes that they can build a sense of camaraderie before they reach the end of the road. They would need it if they hope to fight off the slavers.

          Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell Thorn was "Oh no, not again”. Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why the bowl of petunias Thorn had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the universe than we do now.
          Well, he had woken up in worse places, but he could not exactly remember when. Let’s take a look around at the situation (Perception 11), and let us investigate this cage to see what is keeping us locked up (Investigation 6). Um... this is not going... well.

Thorn sees that it is a cage, with a standard lock.

"Oi, what was in that drink? And where in the bloody plane are we going, in such a... fine mode of transportation?" A clean shaven, scraggly haired youth of a gnome, pushes himself up to a more sitting position, trying to cool and calm about the situation. Craignar tries to recall the events that lead up to resting spot, failing to put the details together. "Anyone got a drink?"

“A drink would be nice right about now,” the gruff voice comes from a broad-shouldered dwarf slumped against the bars of the cage. His eyes remain closed, his head tilted back against the iron as the wagon rattles down the road, as though being hauled across the countryside in chains were merely a minor inconvenience. “Food wouldn’t hurt either.”
He sits up slightly, rubbing his temples, his gaze sweeping across the other prisoners before settling on the slavers outside.

"Food and drink may be the least of our concerns. Does anyone know who these humans are and where they may be taking us?" A suprisingly deep, somewhat melodic voice adds from the corner of the caged wagon.

The elf who just spoke attempts to stand, brushing his unruly auburn hair out of his piercing green eyes in an attempt to better peer at ther captors.

Perception: 26 (Natural 20)

(O.O.C I rolled in the game log but happy to roll in the forum instead if you prefer that.)