You all make your way to Matterfort's western gate (more like northwestern, but anyway....) at an unhurried pace; since it's early June, sunset is around 8:30, so you have some time to kill.
You arrive as the sun dips below the horizon, leaving behind a fiery orange-red sky. A few travelers (either on foot, mounted, or riding in mule-drawn wagons) are entering the town before darkness sets in. A group of people (probably locals) are loitering about, watching the sunset and chatting.
There's a one-story wooden guardhouse by the gate, manned by four guards. Three have a youthful exuberance about them; perhaps this is their first posting as guards. The last one is a middle-aged man whose eyes seem to be everywhere at once...probably a sergeant with plenty of experience. However, none of the guards bother anyone; they simply nod as people walk past.
Near the gate is a clearing that seems to be an all-purpose area. Judging from the ruts, wagons park or turn around here. There are also some worn wooden benches, and even some stone fire rings. People must camp here sometimes, for whatever reason. Right now, however, nobody is making use of this area...except for four people who smirk as you approach.
A white-haired youth steps forward, haughtiness and cunning practically radiating off of him. He's clearly the de facto leader, and addresses you all in a clear voice:
Man: "There you are, my wrestling partner! And you brought friends? Shocking, actually...I didn't think anyone could tolerate your filthiness, rudeness, and cockiness for long!"
Wyla marches right towards him and stares up, a crazed grin on her face.
Wyla: "Already talkin' trash, huh? Didn't ya learn yer lesson? I already tossed ya around like a rag doll! But instead o' takin' yer lumps like a man, you and yer buddies tried to thrash me! But now I got some help, so things're gonna turn out differently!"
Man: "Listen, gnome: I took offense because, when we wrestled, you seemed eager to grab me in places that----"
Now a white-haired young woman speaks up. Her arrogant expression is almost identical to the man's.
Woman: "Don't let her rile you up, brother. She's clearly an expert at getting under people's skin. Let's just inform them of their task, so we can be on our way. Trading banter with the...lesser classes simply bores me."
Man: "Certainly, sister. [clears throat] First, let me introduce everyone. I'm Aaron Fairborough, and this is my sister, Amelie. Our friends here are Byron Samson and Tiffany DeCourt [he motions to the other two, who are, of course, also radiating arrogance]. The gnome has met us before, in regrettable circumstances. Regrettable for her, that is, because she behaved so abominably. Now that the introductions are out of the way, we can move on to your task, which is----"
Wyla: "Hold it right there, jackass! (And yes, I did grab you in certain places, but I didn't find much! Just a twig, really! And we were wrestling, ya blockhead, so any place on the body is fair game! You were grabbin' me all over, but you didn't hear me complainin', did ya?) If ya'll think you can hide behind dear old daddy, threaten me with death, and then demand I do somethin' for ya, yer fuckin' delusional! We came here to give ya'll the spanking you deserve, not be yer servants!"
Aaron blinks at her, but doesn't seem that troubled. He motions to the three of you.
Aaron: "Is that true? Are you going to let this...this incorrigible gnome doom you? Our quarrel is with her, not you. We simply want her to atone for her actions by accomplishing a simple task. But if you all insist on fighting us instead, well...."
