They're a pack of low-level idiots.

"Shaman! There's a party coming!"

So what, you think. We'll just respawn after we're dead.

"The leader's level eight!"

"Alright, calm down, it's not like... wait, did you say level eight?"

He stops at the top of the stairs, panting for a few moments before answering.

"Yes, and he's a bard."

"Level eight. And a bard. Out here?"

"Yes, yes, and there's no-one else in the party higher than level six."

"Wait. You're telling me that we have a party of novice adventurers, out here, in the heat of the day?"

"Yes."

You have to restrain yourself from diving off the top of the clanhold to get into the fight earlier. Instead, you take the steps, the scout remaining a respectful distance behind you. Oh, this is just too easy...

Once down there, concealed behind a sandstone wall, you see that the scout wasn't kidding. It's a four man party, but a bad one. Let's see... no water left, so they're all debuffed. Fighting in the day, so you and your scaly friends get buffs, while the tank (who's refused to remove his armour) is debuffed. No team synergies.

It's like an XP banquet.

The half-elf ranger (who hasn't switched to desert camoflague, you note) turns to the human bard. As she turns, her boobs jiggle and threaten to burst out of her corset.

"I thought you said this was an easy mission, suitable for beginner parties in decent numbers or intermediate players solo?"

"The guide said it was!" He blocks the swing of a scimatar with his lute, cutting the strings as he does so. Wow, they're dumb. This is practically a mercy killing.

The dwarf tank (male, since he doesn't have boobs threatening to break through the metal armour) keels over from lack of stamina (Heat Exhaustion and Dehydration take a brutal toll on the stamina bar) and the cleric (who looks like her god is Boobsina) rushes over to help him, completely ignoring the fact that she's just left her two companions with no rearguard...