To Manzanita, Grenier & M'faro
Having finished your provision shopping, and seeing that the rain, though light, was not about to abate, you all decided to head straight back to the Ardent.
You only managed to get about three-quarters of the way there, however, before you hear a commotion behind you.
Turning around, you see several armed men on horseback trotting towards you, seemingly oblivious of anyone in front of them. They have a harsh look about them as if they've not only seen and dealt with the scum of the streets but had risen, barely, up from their ranks.
The light horses, M'faro could see, were in terrible condition and their strapping was tied inexpertly, making the horses uncomfortable, which was evidenced by the difficulty the men were having in controlling the mounts.
Wearing studded leather armour and wielding shortswords and crossbows, the three men seemed more than prepared for any situation.
The lead man trotted to within twenty feet of you and stopped. His hair was long and greasy and despite his relative youth, about late twenties, his mouth was a warzone of missing or black teeth. He was unkempt and unshaven and addressed you with a constant sneer and contemptuous look upon his face.
"Oi, you t'ree... yeah, you're da ones... Ise gots reports dat dere bein' a buncha hooligans runnin' about bristlin' wid weapons... dat'd be youse. You'd bedder be comin' wid us, all quiets like..."
DM: You remember Tarvoden had express permission to bring you all through the gates of the city, armed. Whether that permission still remains...