The attack came in the middle of the night. The town guards didn't have a chance to raise an alarm, and the walls were breached in seconds with the horrible sound of grinding iron. There was scarcely time to even get out of bed before a piercing light seemed to suck out all will. The resistance drained out of the people Hon, they were loaded up into a caravan, boxed in like animals, and yet not a single person protested. Glazed, blank eyes stared out to nothing as they shook and rattled along the land. The caravan wasn't even traveling a road, it was tearing right through the badlands as if it were routine. The town of Hon was emptied in a single night and its entire population taken without incident.

Almost without incident.

Six youngsters begin to blink their eyes. Strength returns to their limbs. Whatever enchantment that was placed over the rest of their townspeople suddenly has lost its hold on them. As their consciousness spreads through their bodies, they're able to see clearly their dire situation despite the pitch of the night sky.

They're standing on what looks like a massive wagon train without walls and only the most simple bars that seem designed more to keep creatures out than to hold prisoners in. It would be a simple matter to jump off the platform, though the ground is moving quite quickly beneath its wheels. Each prisoner is holding onto a rope that keeps them upright as the wagon train lists and shakes while traveling at a pace that would normally be impossible without a cut trail. The sound of what seems like horses can be heard from all around, but it's mixed with the sound of metal scraping metal.  Everyone that the six know are standing complicit and wearing their night clothes still. At the head of each section of wagon seems to be a single guard or driver, eyes trained on the sky.

The six are grouped together, and seem to be in the back of the final section of the wagon train. No one is wearing shackles of any kind, and the speed and precision that the attackers used betray just how efficient they are, and how many times they've done this. That the group of six are conscious must truly be an aberration, or there would be more security; certainly the guards that are present aren't worried about recapturing prisoners, but then, it is night, and only fools would travel at night, on land, and through the badlands.

The din that the caravan makes no doubt attracts unwanted attention from the wilds. The attackers must value speed more than anything else, so if someone were to whisper, it would almost certainly be hidden from the lone guard sitting in an elevated position overlooking the carriage of prisoners.

Their time to act is now.

Hyre looks at the ground moving quickly, it wouldn't be a nice landing. He looks at the guard, doesn't seem like someone he could handle on his own. "Hey," he whispers, hoping that anyone would hear and answer. "Anybody awake?"

Shaking himself from the stupor he was lost in, Lazlo looks around for the source of the whisper.  It was Hyre, a friend- also awake in the crowd of townsfolk.  "I hoped I was having a nightmare..."  he whispers, shivering in the chill night air.   "Look at them..."  he says nodding toward the nearest member of the town still caught under whatever strange spell was cast on them. " They're still out- should we try and wake them?"  Impulsively Lazlo reaches out and discreetly pokes the nearest person-  tryin to see if this spell can be broken or if he and his friends were an anomaly.

A short teenage human with a mane of ratty brown hair snaps to consciousness. As he realizes the gravity of his situation, he puts on a stoic expression, but his knees begin to tremble. Seeing a few others whispering, Leon joins the conversation. 

"That guard...we have to get rid of him first. Why don't we tackle him and throw him off the train? Who's with me?" 

Hyre looks at the other two, studying them with his eyes. "Sounds risky. Even if we can take the guard out with our combined strength, it's enough that he calls for help and we might as well be asking them to take our heads." Then, after some thought, "Besides, I don't see how it would help us. Even if we take control of the cart, they would probably notice it." He points at the town's folk standing in their places. "Unless we can wake them up... I don't think we can fight them in any way." After another short pause: "I want to save them too. If we can not wake them up, however...  I don't think they want to kill us, they would have done it already if they did. If waking them up won't be possible... I think taking care of ourselves should be our first priority." He looks at some of the familiar faces, people he had known from his town, people he had known his entire life. "We might have to leave them behind." He looks at the others, hoping to see a look of agreement on their faces. He would hate to leave the people behind, but he wouldn't throw his life away for a noble cause like that.

Balgrim

A young dwarf runs a hand through his hair as if to remove the remaining cobwebs that have clouded his mind.  He looks about the wagon, hearing the soft voices but it takes a moment for them to register understanding.  He looks at Lazlo and nods, "Aye, I'm beginnin' ta come aroun'." As he accesses the situation and the lack of alertness of the guard he looks toward Leon and continues in a whisper, "Nae, I dinna think me prowess be up ta a fracas. Maybe we shou try an slip off inta tha noche.  I'll take me chances in tha badlands o'er these bastards an their twisted magix."

Leon frowns, but tries to contain his anger. 

"We have no idea where these townsfolk are going, but I have the feeling they are like lambs to the slaughter. We have to do we can to save them!"

He ignores the nagging feeling he's making a mistake and begins to approach the guard at the top.

"Anyone with me, we'll go on 3. 1-2-"

He recklessly charges forward and attempts to push the guard off the wagon. 

Shove: 2

As the clouds roll back, the light of the moon offers a few more details to the six. The guard is cloaked; not too surprising given the chilly night air, but also heavily armed and holding a flintlock. It's unlike anything any of the group have seen before, however. It's practically a portable cannon, and looks powerful enough to snap a person clean in half. As the wagon lists slowly to the left, the stench of sulfur hits the noses of the group of six, coming from the head of the wagon train.

The additional light lets the group see too that the speed at which the train is moving is swift, but common sense suggests that falling off wouldn't be fatal. What would probably hurt most is not knowing what kind of terrain is under them, whether there's thorns, rocks, sharks with friggin laserbeams attached to their heads, it'd make for an unpleasant landing.

When Lazlo pokes at one of his fellow captives, she doesn't respond. Her eyes stay half-lidded, staring off into the ether.

(Oh, almost forgot; to make posting smoother, whenever I finish a post with 'how does the party respond', I'll prompt you all to roll initiative. This will determine the post order for the next exchange. If you don't think your character would do anything or would wait to see what someone else does, just post with 'pass' to skip your post entirely, or 'wait' if you want to save your post until the next person who doesn't pass or wait posts. If nobody wants to act and passes or waits, I'll post again with the assumption that the party has no reaction.

Additionally, if you don't feel your character has anything to contribute, you can post 'pass' to let the others know they can keep posting or post 'hold' if you want to post but don't have the time just yet. I'll always post reactions to player actions as soon as I can, but I ask that each player have a 'turn' before they post their reaction to DM posts. I won't be enforcing post order, but I don't want anyone left behind or getting overwhelmed.) 

When Leon moves up the wagon to attack the guard with a shove, the man barely moves.

That's when he sees that it wasn't a man that he shoved. The thunk of metal drums out from under his palms.

Glowing eyes spin round as the head twists 180 degrees to stare at Leon with a lidless gaze. The cloak must have been for limited camouflage or deception. Leon is face to face with what looks like a living suit of armor. The lights inside the helmet that act as the 'eyes' seem to hang in empty space.

From inside the armour, a harsh, croaking voice bellows something in an unknown language and it prepares to aim its cannon, but then stops as a shriek pierces the night sky. The moonlight is blotted out by the approach of a huge shadow. The wagon jerks and lists again as a squeal of metal is heard from all around; the train begins to slow, and the armoured figure raises its cannon up to the creature to fire.

Lazlo looks up at the night sky, eyes wide with fear.  "I don't know what that thing is up there, but I don't think we should stick around to find out"  He makes his way to the edge of the platform, trying to judge the safest time to leap off of the slowing car.  "Are you with me? There's little we can do for these folk if we're on the wrong side of the dirt..."

A pale purple teifling looks around nervously, "Better to move now while they're still distracted," she agrees, also watching to see when the safest time to jump off it.

Seeing that the train is slowing down, Hyre runs to the nearest place he could exit the wagon through. "It's now or never I believe. I'm not waiting any longer." He jumps outside, trying to protect his head by crossing his arms in front and around it while hoping to land on his feet.

Leon hesitates for a moment, looking at the imprisoned town's folk. 

"I'm...sorry." 

He jumps off the train as well. 

Balgrim

As he becomes aware of who, or what, is driving the wagon Balgrim says "Aye, I'm ready ta put some distance between me an whatever hopeless heap o' tainted tin is drivin' this wagon!"  He then moves towards Lazlo to follow suit with the safest leap.

Conjuring up images of his hero, the Satyr of Legend Eusabius The Fleetfooted- young Lazlo flashes a grin at Balgrim and attempts to execute what he believes will be an acrobatic landing.  "Off we go..."

The teifling follows, seeming to be more scared of being left behind than anything else.

Aelar rouses from the magical slumber to the jouncing of the wagon, hand tightly gripping a rope.  Looking around for his family, he sees his cousin Valinnar and her husband Xallon next to him.  He reaches out to touch them, rouse them, then stops, noticing the blank stares and vacant eyes.  Whatever magic had enthralled the town still held them.  Perhaps he could rouse them.  Noticing the guard, he moves cautiously, pushing at their shoulders, whispering fiercely to them.

Nothing happens.  Tears come to his eyes.  Ever since his parents and sister had died three years prior in the illness, Valinnar and Xallon had been his only family.  They'd taken him in and sheltered him and loved him.

You must leave them. Go with the others.

What was that? Others?  Looking around, he saw that some others...five actually...had also roused and were discussing something, and five he knew. The black haired elf moved closer and overheard them trying to decide whether they should try to save the other townspeople or just flee.  He was about to voice his support, softly of course, when Leon moved to the guard and shoved him off...or tried to. It appeared to be like trying to shove a boulder.  The guard turned to him, begins to aim its huge weapon, then stops as a shriek splits the night sky. A moment later the weapon roared as the guard fired it into the night.

You must leave them.

What was that voice?  Was it a voice?  In his heart he knew it, whatever it was, instinct, voice, whatever, spoke truth.  "Leon," he says, but gathers the others with his eyes. "we cannot save them.  I want to save my family and our friends, but I know...and so do you...they would want us to save ourselves first.  We have to go."  The tears in his eyes spoke the truth of his anguish.

ooc: I believe we all know each other, is that right?

The party escapes the wagon train just as the barking of cannon fire briefly illuminates the attacking shadow. It's a dragon, of sorts, only it has no forelimbs to assist it as it lands on one of the wagons trailers with its powerful back legs and seems primed to fly off with it, only to be struck several times and is forced to let go. The dragon makes another attempt to grab one of the trailers, but is again shot when it attempts to lift off with it. With a defiant roar, the beast rears up and a hot glow can be seen running up the dragon's throat, but it stops short.

Leaping off the slowing wagon, the terrain proves to be more gentle than feared, being mostly cracked, dry earth that thankfully absorbs some of the impact of landing. The wagon is still slowing down, and from the muzzle flash of the cannon fire and the group's new vantage point, they can see that the wagon train is some ten trailers long, driven by what appears to be a team of metal horses, much like the living armour that was the group's former guard. It has to slow down very gradually, and turning seems to be a major issue. If the party keeps moving, it will take some time before the caravan can give chase.

That said, they shouldn't linger or debate long what to do. The guards seem fully engrossed in engaging the dragon, which seems to be losing. The distraction won't last long.

Kallista, Aelar, and Balgrim's night vision allows them to see the trail that the train has left. They're not exactly inconspicuous, traveling basically in a straight line and cutting across whatever terrain their iron horses and wagons can barrel through... but the landscape isn't familiar whatsoever. It's impossible to know for how long the former inhabitants of Hon have been in their trance, but a road is visible in the distance.

How does the party respond? (roll for post initiative)

(Do we add dexterity modifier to our post initiative? 16) 

Quote from RazorDawn89 >>

(Do we add dexterity modifier to our post initiative? 10) 

 (No, this is just for post order XD it's not initiative in the conventional sense. In the case of ties, whoever posted their roll first 'wins' that post order spot.)

(Also, whether or not you all know each other is up to you, but you're all roughly the same maturity in the same town, so it's pretty likely that you're all at least acquaintances)