Hazardous Meetings and Dangerous Greetings

An aged couple prodded their underfed nag along the southern road into Kantaria. The man wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, and coveralls, chewing on a piece of wheat. The woman wore a shawl over her head, and was wrapped in an old gray blanket, the kind that would normally be used to give a dog a place to sleep. She shivered beneath the sodden cotton, as if sick with the shakes. Behind them, the nag pulled a cart lined with hay, and full of turnips, and a handful of other,  withered lookng produce. Beside them, walked their three sons, simple, but strong looking men dressed in peasant work clothes, simple cotton shirts and breeches stained with dirt and.sweat, and their skin tanned from long days spent in the fields. 

Ahead lay the town of Kataria, where they would try and make whatever copper coins they could, selling their paltry vegetables, that they might survive another year without ending up in a Chellish dungeon for failure to pay their taxes.  Between them and their destination, stood a group of sentries, soldiers and halfling scouts, backed by a row of archers, and led by silver haired, steel eyed sargeant, all bearing the symbol of Iomedae. 

They wheeled their cart up to the entourage, the sargeant stopping them with one open palm.

"Names? What business have you in Kantaria?"

The youngest of the me spoke up, his voice typical of the peasant drawl found among barnhands and pig farmers. 

"Here to try and sell our turnups, sir. Closest market to our farm out yonder 4 leagues." He spoke, tossing his head back to indicate a general direction of 'somewhere' behind him.

"And names?" The steely eyed sargeant repeated, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. The two halflings began to inspect the cart, while the two human guards began to sift through the turnips and hay. 

"The Barrows, sir." Then youngest man replied, smiling wide at the sargeant. 

"Awfully nice smile you have there...for turnip farmers.", the old man replied, not even bothering to try and mask his suspicion. "Gilly, Harver, thorough search." He said, his tone authoritative. The halflings gave quick nods,  and began rapping their knuckles hard against the wagon, while their human counter parts began to throw turnips from the wagon to the ground. Behind him, the archers knocked arrows into their bows, taking a few steps forward. 

The young man's smile faded from his face. 

"Pa always said toothcare was important." He replied after a moments hesitation, his eyes flickering to the halflings.

"Right here, Sarge. Hollow panel, I'm certain."

The halfling named Gilly said, ear to the wagon as he knocked. 

Drawing a crowbar, the sargeant ripped the plank from the wagon with ease, reaching into the compartment, and drawing out a sack of red velvet. "Trying to hide something? What am I going to find in here?"

"Oh, I think you know." Said the oldest brother, silent until now, his dark brow furrowing beneath his peasant cap. The glare was not lost on the sargeant, who handed the item to the halfling named Harver. "Flip it." He ordered through clenched teeth, hand going to his sword's hilt. 

"Ho hum, ho hum." Mused the long-haired halfling, pulling at the drawstrings and flipping the bag in and out several times. With a sudden clash of noises, the bag of holding forcefully expelled it's contents onto the road, numerous weapons,  Asmodean unholy symbol and texts, a spell book and other incriminating evidence. 

Moving with practiced speed, Bernard reached out to one of the sargeant's men, and lay a hand on his shoulder, murmuring an incantation. Arcane lightning surged through the middle son's hand, causing the guard's body to convulse, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud. Hectate and Ralphio both dove to the ground, Hectate for his five pointed unholy symbol, and Ralphio for his crossbow. 

The elder carrows jumped down from the wagon, Alecto with a rapier already inexplicably in hand, slashing the sargeant across the forehead, while Amycus followed up the strike with a solid blow to the chin, sending him reeling. Just as he found his footing, an arrow pierced the patriarch's shoulder joint, causing him to cry out in pain. The archers had been quick to the draw and sure of aim as they let loose their arrows into the melee. Harver had scrambled to intercept Ralphio's lunge for his crossbow, but his small arms left his hands empty for the effort, Ralphio scooping the weapon up, and then driving the attached bayonet into the halfling's seafoam green eye, slicing it open beyond repair. The halfling tore himself off the blade, worsening the already grievous wound, his screams were cries of agony as he clutched a hand to his face, trying hopelessly to preserve the pulpated material. Hectate rose from the ground, Asmodean symbol clutched in hand. "By the will of The Unyielding Law, Asmodeus, Prince of Darkness and Hellfire and Blood Oaths," he shouted above the commotion, seemingly unfazed as two arrows pierced his chest, "grant me a spiritul weapon, bring down the upstart fools!" A mace seeingly crafted from hellfire appeared behind the archers, swinging wildly at them, as they tried uselessly to defend themselves with their bows.

Bernard reached down, taking the fallen soldier's shortsword from his belt, the weapon igniting with fire, even as Ralphio stood to his feet, loading a bolt into his crossbow. Alecto and Amycus now locked in battle with the grizzled sargeant, who's longsword was making quick work of the unarmored Carrows, delivering cutting wounds to them and bloodying their farmer's disguise.

The second halfling, Gilly moved with great speed,  driving a dagger into the back of Hectate's leg, the wound cutting and tearing at flesh even as he danced into reach of Ralphio. "Hold still!" Shouted the youngest brother,  trying to adjusthis aim on Gilly. "Hold your guts!" Countered the halfling, as he slashed open the young humans stomach, causing him to double over.  He spun to face the last of the Carrow brothers, and was greeted with the stolen shortsword to his skull. His vision went dark, as the smell of burnt flesh and hair filled his nostrils. He heard  help arriving from the town, and he held up his dagger, stabbing half-blind in pain, a desperate attempt to fend off his attacker. As his vision came back to him, he witnessed his sargeant put down the older man and female with his longsword, and members of the Glorious Reclamation tackle mand bring down the magic user, just before allowing himself to pass out.

"Take them to Hardship's Hearth! Keep them alive and seperated until we figure out who they are! Take caster precautions with all of them!" The gray haired sargeant shouted, his anger still burning hot.