You encounter a religious order

Nine wagons across the plain in single file. You stand there and wait for them. You hope to score some food and water. But it turns out to be The Squirrel sacred order. You turn and run as soon as you see its tiny rodents behind the reins. Other rodents with strange weapons perched here and there. Arrows slung from rifle like rods slam the ground around You with it bottle rocket whistles. Then they explode sending flaming shrapnel into your eyes. You fall screaming, blinded. They use a winding crane like wooden robot arm to net you and hold you helpless above the wagon.