Phoebus rode Achilles out through the city gates, accompanied by thirty of his best soldiers, two of whom were also mounted. The rest marched silently, carrying spears over their shoulders and staring obediently ahead. There had been an explosion of murmurs when reports of potential raiders reached the barracks, but he had quickly shut that down -- and with only one soldier getting latrine duty for sass, even! It was almost as if they were learning!

As the soldiers neared the... travelers, enough to count the obvious warriors and examine the layout of their rudimentary camp, the captain signaled his two officers to each take a third of the force and circle around to the sides. Phoebus had given them all strict orders not to attack unprovoked, but if the strangers did want a scuffle, his men could have them outflanked from the start. The tree line was far enough away that it was unlikely a full contingent of enemy soldiers was waiting in ambush, but just in case, this maneuver also prevented his own force from being surrounded with no escape.

Phoebus brought his men to a halt a few dozen yards from the nearest cart. 

"Hail!" he called out. "May we approach peacefully?"

As he waited for an answer, he tried to get a decent look at the people, and their animals. He'd heard of the northern barbarians who ran into battle naked and painted, screaming wild oaths to heathen gods, but these people... only half fit that description? And he rather doubted such bold invaders would leave horses behind in favor of... whatever those animals were.