Path to Essembra Part 2) Asbravn Extortion

The Darkhold-based Zhentarim have a scheme going with several farmers that come to Asbravn to sell their crops. The farmers are in debt beyond their means to pay with several years of harvest and the Zhents have begun to threaten property damage or worse (take children to sell for slavery) for the interest payments.

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On the Dusk Road

The adventure begins as the party was several miles from the outskirts of Asbravn, a small hamlet that serves as the market for farmers of the Shining Plains to the south.

We rescued a caravan bound Westward from Zhent scum. But one wagon remained, along with its last mercenary guard and owner, Jervis. Jervis Prefit was extremely grateful for the rescue and explained what has been happening in his town for the past 6 months:

“Times ‘a been hard in Asbravn. Chauntea didn’t bless our harvest last fall, an many of us ran into money trouble. Some folk been so desperate, they’d borrow from folk I’d never look in the eye, let alone owe coin to. Latha, Emra an myself decided to head fer Hill’s Edge about a ten-day ago. I have kin up there that woulda lent me some coin. Figured we’re too broke for any highway bandits to be worth a trouble, an too old to end up as Zhent slaves. But Beshaba’s brats, we were kidnapped just ‘a same, by beastfolk outta them woods. Turns my stomach the things they did to my friends, same as wouldda happen a me, but Ilmater heard my prayers and sent you fine folk. When we get back, my wife Dora is gonna fill your stomachs up with the heartiest beef this side of the Innersea she will. Oh yes, an corn an gravy an pumpkin pie. We also got ‘re hands on some sweet Saerloonian Glowfire* that we’da saved for special occaision, just wait tillit hits your lips. Umm-mm.”

*Saerloonian Glowfire: Pale charteuse wine, renowned for its faint luminescence, neither sweet nor very dry and has a taste reminiscent of pears.

We welcomed the caravan guard into our group, not much to say about him 'side from his being from "The Moonsea."

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Not a few hours later, we spotted a wyvern or drake high in the sky, with what appeared to be a a rider. Then, in the distance, a messenger upon horseback rides towards the party. The horse stumbles and lets out a loud noise of pain as it crashes to the ground, the rider is thrown fast and hard.

As we approached, we saw a group of 3 men wearing the garb of soldiers around the fallen rider. Although the rider looks seriously injured, the men appear to be robbing him.

The man is Maxer Tolan, a hired hand of an Asbravn mill worker on assignment from the mayor. He carried a note addressed to Lady Rhesajan Ambermantle, ruler of Scornubel, requesting aid. The note explains that the town is being threatened by Zhentarim out of Darkhold to repay debts. The mayor uses the word extortion several times and warns the Lady and her merchant advisors that the price of Asbravn crops will have to be doubled this harvestide if something is not done about the situation.

Upon realizing these soldiers were Zhent, we eliminated them.

We past one last caravan before entering Asbravn, and inquired what they'd seen on the road. They described man that must have been possessed by demons. They speculate his caravan was attacked by troops, and they passed him hastely instead of offering help. They described the picture below.

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Rumors & News

1) Zhentilar soldiers out of darkhold have been harassing farmers

2) Red Shield mercenaries have asked about the party

3) A stranger was in town a few days ago, asking about a party meeting the description of the characters. Neither Red Shield nor Zhent, this man gave everyone the creeps. Spiked armor as black as pitch, silver hair greased back with a widow’s peak and a long, jagged scar running down the right side of his face. His eyes were black and without pupils. Headed East toward Iriaebor.

While in town, we encountered Zhentilar soldiers are harassing a farmer and his daughter while in town. We overheard:

Farmer : “By all the watching gods, that is too much ! I cannot hope to pay that in 5 winters worth of sales!”

Zhent: “There are other methods of payment to be sure.” He eyes the daughter, who cowers behind her father.

Farmer: “I’ll see you in the 9 hells before you touch her scum !” the farmer shouts. Zhent backhands him

Zhent: “Watch your tongue pig-farmer lest I remove it. You have one day to figure it out or we’ll figure it for you.”

Some of the more brash members of the group decided to burst into the cottage and attack. During the battle, the mercenary turned on us and nearly slew Amiar from behind. We defeated him and the Zhents, and when it was finished, the merc put a dagger through his own heart rather than become our prisoner.

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We made our way to Asbravn's mayor, Turko Breem, who explained to us the Zhentilar representative, M’Laeral Ozamedye, was trying to get the town to pay a tax to Darkhold to cover the farmer’s debt. The tax will not only cover the debt interest payments, but also pay for protection against any outside aggressors.

He had learned both his messengers to Scornubel and Iriaebor were intercepted and either killed or captured. Now he was uncertain how much longer they could go without help.

Our conversation was interrupted by no other than M’Laeral herself, flanked by 4 Zhentilar soldiers.

“My, my….adventurers. I can think of no better an occupation to pay homage to the Black Bess. What say you hirespell? Kneel before me and proclaim Beshaba the one true goddess of fate, lest you seek the ire of the Maid of Misfortune!”

All of us kneeled and admitted Beshaba was indeed the goddess of ill luck:

“You are wise. Always remember who controls your destiny, less an unfortunate accident end your careers prematurely.”

Ovak however, refused to kneel, causing a toothy smile to slowly form on her face. “Watch well your backs fool, for accidents happen even to the well prepared.”

“And you Breem , I expect payment upon my return at highsun tomorrow or we will no longer be able to garuantee the safety of this village.” She and her accompanyment departed.

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Our plan was to make a deal with the garrisoned soliders in the town. Seemed they really hated and feared this woman, so perhaps they'd stay out of the way when we took her down. Turns out we were right, only 2 soldiers were by her side when we invaded the windmill she had taken for a base.

She proved a terrible foe, and before the battle was over, the mill burned to the ground and the life-force of Ovak was snuffed out forever.

The funeral was brief, for we had to move on before the troops decided to alter our arrangement.

With Ozamedye out of the picture, the Zhents had no leadership for the time being, and we could warn Iriaebor of the troubles here before the Zhents could send a new captain.

With heavy hearts, we moved on toward Essembra.