Sarka, southwest farm, the fallows, Klos 19th, 350AC, 14:55  (underground, 65 degrees, half moon)

After listening to your tales, the robed badder speaks quietly to some of the soldiers around him.  They look over the scene, particularly at the four dead badders.  Archers keep a close eye on you during this time.  Then the robed one and about a dozen of the light infantry march up to your group.

“Give me something valuable, and I’ll tell the king your statements are true.  Otherwise we take your weapons and you will not be so comfortable.”  He sneers, showing a lot of yellowed teeth.