The party has spent the last few days traveling. The large farms of Cormyr gave way to the small farms of Shadowdale which gave way to the woodlands of Daggerdale. The road traffic has similarly decreased, and you haven't passed another soul on the road to Dagger Falls for hours.

When you are about 20 miles away, you come to a clearing before a stone bridge across a small stream. Six rough-looking men wearing distinctive black armor block your path. Four of them are armed with swords and shields, one has a bow and the last bears a mace and the trappings of a priest of Cyric. They're obviously Zhentarim - thuggish soldiers of Zhentil Keep.

Their leader calls out to you with a menacing grin.

"Well isn't this a surprise! Here we are looking for the rebel Morn, and we find six vagabonds ripe for a tax collection instead! Throw down your weapons and any magic on your persons. We don't want to hurt you any more than we have to."

"Not much more, anyway." responds another.

The swordsmen are about 30 feet away from you, and the cleric and archer are 15 feet behind them.