[Pathfinder] DarkSun: Dangerous Beginnings

You are in caravan from the city of Urik to the city of Tyr. It was hardly a caravan, really, just a single enormous wooden wagon pulled by two equally enormous mekillots; long, wide, lizardlike creatures with hide thick enough to turn arrows.
The wagon they draw looks like a castle on rollers, complete with battlements from which guards could fire on the raiders and wild beasts that roam the desert. Inside is a warren of decks and compartments with enough cargo capacity to hold an entire bazaar’s worth of goods.
This wagon’s cargo also includes you: slaves, destined to labor and probably die on the ziggurat being built for the sorcerer-king of Tyr.
Your only light comes from two barred windows set in doors on either end of the hold, the doors themselves opening only into dim companionways. There is no ventilation and the door on each side barred from the outside.
There are no other slaves, and you have no possessions except simple breechcloths.
You all wear heavy leather manacles on their wrists and ankles, as well as leather collars. The manacles and collars are sealed shut with giant-hair rope. It runs through a bone loop set into the wall, and is tied somewhere outside the hold. This gives you just enough freedom to reach the wooden chamber pot in the middle of the room.

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[Pathfinder] DarkSun: Dangerous Beginnings RG IC OCC

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Kline closed his eyes. He concentrated, centering his mind, keeping his focus. He would be ready to act when the time comes.

It was only natural, he thought, for the strong to control the weak; for the clever to control the foolish; for the popular to control the unpopular. But a master only deserved his power for as long as he could hold on to it.

I am strong in both body and mind. I should be a master, not a slave.

He would escape his captors or die trying, and in either case that would be the fate he deserved.

He’d toyed with the idea of animating the ropes, trying to get them to untie themselves. But even if that worked, he’d be no better off. He’d still be locked in the cell, and if they thought he was loose they would surely have many guards outside before they came to slay him. And even if he escaped the cell and got out of the transport – all very unlikely - the desert would be a deadly prison.

No, his best chance was to wait. He had time. Perhaps in Tyr, an overseer would grow careless. He had ways to encourage that.

Reena continues to look around at what might be around her. Used to fighting in the arena, being couped up in this pen is not to her liking. But she dreams of the day when she can once again fight in the arena. This time in the Tyr arena.

Gilliam sits in silent despair gazing at his manacles. Occasionally he works up the energy to glare evilly at Reena and then the outline of a blade glitters briefly in his hand but he can't maintain his hatred for more than a few seconds and he goes back to gazing blankly at his bonds.

As Kline and Gilliam try to focus their psionic powers they feel a resistance. Perhaps an enchantment on the collars...?

From outside the cell, the 'leader' of the guards, most likely another psion, starts looking around. Perhaps he sensed some of your efforts.

ooc: There are still some characters missing in the RG.

Raggi Half-Giant Druid

The massive half-giant Raggi shook his head. The multiple influences of his fellow slaves and the slavers drew his psyche in different directions, filling him with rage, despair, fear, and, contempt. Adding to his stress was the confinement of both his freedom and his world. He was used to the open desert where he roamed alone at one with the empty life of a wandering druid. Now he was bound with unbreakable giant hair, confined in a covered wagon and crowded among fellow slave prisoners. Being alone he had been taken and part of his psyche was now adapting to the concept of being one of many, part of a crowd. He could feel the shift in his mind as its fluid nature conformed to the new environment.

Tiklan keeps his head down while the guard leader looks around. When he stops paying attention to the slave pen, he shoots his fellow slaves a nasty look. "I'm not saying I like being here, but we should cooperate if we want to get out," he says quietly. "I can't think of much to do when I'm all tied up like this, but if anyone has any ideas, I'm all ears. Once we get out I'll help us get back to civilization."

"My name is Tiklan."

The wagon moves at daybreak; an hour later, five guards (one is the psio) feed you (gruel and water) and check the shackles. They return in the evening with an additional quart of water per slave.

[sblock=ooc]Please continue your roleplay with each other. Not many more around [/sblock]

"Mine is Kline" he replies later, when the guards are gone. "Of course, if there's a good chance to escape, I'm in. But I don't expect that here. We probably won't even be assigned to the same work team in Tyr. There's only one point in even talking now, and that's to kill time. So if anyone can sing, be my guest."

"Raggi." The big dread-locked half-giant says as introduction. "Want to get out too. Need more food. Need more water." He offers a strained smile then shakes his head as if biting flies had landed on his thick neck. "Too many. Too close. Is bad."