Randal spread out his bedroll on the grass, just a few yards away from the road. If he really wanted to, he could continue on for another hour or so; the day wasn't over yet. But he had already covered more ground than usual today and figured he deserved the rest.
The location he had picked to stop for the day was a three-way crossroads. The Uldoon Trail continued to go northeast, but here another trail went south, deeper into the rolling hills of the Greenfields. He didn't know for certain, but he thought he remembered there being some kind of road in this area that led south into the Snakewood and further, into the nation of Amn.
Randal had really considered going into Amn. He had heard it was a place where even the lowest of the low could rise high with enough ambition and dedication. It sounded very much like a place Randal could learn to thrive. However, it's cities also sounded much too familiar to Baldur's Gate, the city where Randal spent his later childhood years living in the streets.
Cormyr, on the other hand, seemed like a much different place. He had heard it was full of knights and princesses and wizards.
Randal was born with magical powers. He had always felt a little different, but it was when he was six years old that it revealed itself. Randal was born to an elven woman, but it was obvious from a very young age that both his parents could not have been elven. His skin was dusty compared to the fair skin of the Sun Elves, and his hair was brown compared to blond like the rest of the village.
The adults tolerated him, but the other children did not. They constantly bullied him, knocking him bloody many times. One time, however, Randal decided to fight back. A group of three others were cornering him, and Randal struck out first. But instead of just beating them, Randal's fists resonated with an electrical energy, killing all three of them.
The entire village was outraged. It was impossible for a child as young as Randal to have learned magic, especially a spell that could kill. They labeled him cursed and cast him out of the Wood of Sharp Teeth. So Randal found his way to Baldur's Gate, one of the largest cities on the Sword Coast, at the age of seven. He lived there for eight years, learning to survive on the streets. He stole from the many merchants who passed through the metropolis. And in the process, he also taught himself how to tame his magical powers.
He learned spells that would assist him in his day-to-day life as an urchin of Baldur's Gate. But it was far from perfect. Every now and then, there were side effects that caused things to go wrong. The most recent, and worst, was when Randal attempted to cast a spell that would fill a market stall with parasites in order to cause the owner to leave, in which case Randal could rob it. Instead of just filling it with parasites, however, it caused the entire stall to burst into flames, killing the owner and spreading the fire to several other stalls in the square.
It was at this point that Randal realized he needed to leave. He got himself hired upon a merchant caravan as a stableboy for the animals. When they reached the town of Nashkel, however, the caravan was bound to return to Baldur's Gate. It was there that Randal made the decision to go to Cormyr, where he thought he had a better chance to learn magic from the famed war wizards who served that nation.
He was eight days out of Nashkel, and he figured he still had about three tendays left before he got to Suzail, the capital city of Cormyr. He knew this was the easy part, as well. The last leg of his journey would have him walking through the Storm Horns, a mountain range known for being inhabited by all kinds of monsters. He hoped to be able to find another caravan to hitch a ride with, one that was very well protected by mercenaries or maybe even purple dragon knights. Randal wasn't too hopeful, however.
As Randal spun his dagger around in his hands, wasting away the last hours of daylight, he heard voices. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but one was definitely feminine and another a very gruff male. There was at least one more as well, perhaps. Randal slid his dagger, one of a few, back into its sheath, but drew his shortsword and lay it at his side, his hand close to its hilt. He wasn't an experienced swordsman by any means, but he felt more comfortable with it by his side.
As the voices grew closer, they became more recognizable. Among the two he had identified earlier, there was definitely another; this one male as well, but much less gruff. The gruff voice was complaining, something involving Baldur's Gate, while the other male voice was trying to calm him down or comfort him somehow.
It was at this point that they came into view. Instead of only three of them as Randal expected, there were four.
The one that stood out the most was obviously a dwarf. He wore a metal armor that was covered in spikes, and he carried a battleaxe over his shoulder. He couldn't be more than four and a half feet tall, and he had a brown beard reaching halfway down his chest.
In front of him stood two others. One was an elven woman in a gold and blue uniform of sorts, although she carried no weapon as far as Randal could tell. Her skin was very pale but with a bluish tint that revealed she couldn't be a Sun Elf, and she had hair that was so silver it might be mistaken for white by some. Next to the woman stood a human who was most likely about double the age of Randal's fifteen, with long brown hair and fair skin. He wore a crude sort of armor made out of standard leather, and there was a handaxe hanging from his belt. He also had a drum strapped to his pack.
Several feet behind all of them walked another human, although this one was unlike any Randal had seen before. He was the shortest of them all, with an exception of the dwarf, his skin was almost a bronze color, and his dark green eyes were more of a slit than what was normal. He also wore a unique type of armor, linked with chain but with a foreign design, and he carried a glaive in one hand as he walked, with another sword strapped to his back. It was obvious that he wasn't from this part of Faerun, but probably from somewhere on the eastern side of the Inner Sea. Randal figured he would probably see more of his people in Cormyr.
Randal quickly realized that the three in the front were doing the talking, while the foreigner remained silent. The group continued to get closer, and they were so distracted in their own conversation that Randal thought they might actually walk right past him without ever noticing he sat there.
But that was not to be. When they got to the crossroads, they stopped, and it was then that the woman saw Randal. She put her hand on the shoulder of the man with the drum, and he immediately noticed Randal as well.
When the man stopped talking halfway through his sentence, the other two looked over as well. Randal tensed up, his hand inching closer to his sword.
"Hail," the elven woman greeted, with a soft but emphasizing tone.
Randal didn't know what his next move should be. If they proved to be hostile, things were not going to end well at all. He didn't want to use his magic, as it was too unpredictable, but he also knew he had absolutely no chance at fighting any of them, and while he might be faster than all of them, he doubted he had enough stamina to keep up a speed that could outrun them.
"The lad's too shy to speak," the man with the drum said with a chuckle. The elf elbowed him in the arm, firmly but playfully.
"Stop it, Ivor. It's a child," the elf said to him. Then she turned back towards Randal. "I'm Caelynn, formerly a member of the Silverwatch. The dwarf is Darrak, and the tall one is Ivor." She smiled and pointed towards the short foreigner. "And this is Haung."
The foreigner stiffened up a bit. "Haung Lian," he corrected politely.
"Ah, yes. Haung Lian," the elf named Caelynn said. She approached the spot where Randal was sitting and noticed his shortsword. "No need for that, I assure you. We mean no harm at all. We come from the Silver Marches; at least the three of us do. Haung Lian here comes from Kara-Tur."
Randal had never heard of a place called Kara-Tur, but he had heard of the Silver Marches. They were a mountainous region to the far north, mostly inhabited by dwarves but also some humans. He even thought he remembered hearing of an official orc kingdom up there too, but he wasn't sure.
Randal didn't take his hand away from the hilt of his sword. Regardless of what this elf claimed, he wasn't going to be a fool. He had never known an elf to be trustworthy. "The name's Randal," he said slowly.
"Not welcome in Greenest, Randal?" the man named Ivor asked.
Randal didn't understand the question. "I'm from Nashkel, on my way to Cormyr," he replied.
"As we should be," the dwarf mumbled.
"Shut it, Darrak," Caelynn said. "We've been over this many times. We're just making a quick stop at Baldur's Gate first. It's not as big as Waterdeep, but pretty close to it."
Darrak moaned in irritation. "I've had enough of cities. Waterdeep was more than enough to last a lifetime."
"I don't know what you expect to find in Cormyr then, friend," Ivor said. "Cormyr is a nation. The only life you'll find there will be in the cities."
Randal, trying to take advantage of them all arguing, moved his hand closer to the hilt of his sword, now nearly touching it. If he got enough of a head start, he stood at least a small chance of being able to get away.
Caelynn gave him a smile. "Don't even think about it," she warned. "Now, my companion here asked you a question. Are you not welcome in Greenest?"
Randal mentally cursed himself. "I… What is Greenest, m'lady?"
Ivor and Darrak both let out a laugh. "Did you hear him, Caelynn? He called you his lady!" the dwarf managed to get out between bursts of laughter.
Caelynn smiled at Randal again. "You can call me Caelynn like everyone else does," she told him. "And Greenest is a village about an hour down this trail. The sensible thing to do would be to stay at an inn there for the night. Since you aren't, you are either out of coin or you aren't welcome there, I would assume?"
Randal didn't remember seeing any village in this area called Greenest when he looked at the map. He knew he should have stolen it. "I don't know much about these parts. I only know that I need to follow the Uldoon Trail until I reach Asbravn."
"I see," Caelynn said. "It's not too often you find someone traveling alone, especially a child. Why exactly are you going to Cormyr?"
"I'm not a child," Randal told the elf, feeling annoyed. "And why I'm going anywhere is none of your concern." He was feeling angered at being interrupted on his journey. This was supposed to be the easiest part, and now he had to deal with these strangers.
Ivor laughed again. "He certainly took you seriously when you said you weren't a lady."
Caelynn didn't look too pestered. "Fair enough, Randal. If you don't want our company, we won't bother you any longer. However, if you're interested, you are welcome to walk with us to Greenest. If you have the coin for it, there'll be an inn there with a bed and a hot meal. Possibly a bath as well, which we all could use," she said, specifically indicating Darrak.
Randal's first instinct was to say no, but he started to reconsider. It would be nice to stay under a roof for one or two nights. And if he was being completely honest with himself, if he said no right now, he would end up changing his mind a little bit later and end up in Greenest anyways, probably in the same exact inn that this group would be at. That would only make him look like a fool.
"I'll come along," Randal told them.
The dwarf grumbled that the last thing they needed was a child to look after, but other than that there wasn't really a negative response. Haung Lian even assisted Randal in packing his belongings back up, but when Randal tried to thank him he just nodded politely and returned to the task.
The five were on the trail to Greenest in less than ten minutes. There was probably about an hour left of daylight, but Caelynn was confident they could make it there by dusk.
About five minutes into it, the trail led over a hill. So far the Uldoon Trail had been fairly straight, but now they were heading fully into the Greenfields.
As they got over the crest of the hill, they all stopped in their tracks. They could see the small village of Greenest about four miles away, atop another hill, but it was not at all what they expected.
Columns of black smoke rose from burning buildings, figures little more than dots at this distance could be seen running in a panic, and a dark, winged shape wheeled low over the keep that rose above the center of the town.
Greenest was being attacked by a dragon!
First, a quick disclaimer: This story is set in the Forgotten Realms universe, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast. I do not own this world.
Second, I would like to announce that this story is based on the D&D5E module "Hoard of the Dragon Queen" published by Wizards of the Coast. I am merely adapting it into novel form. Most of the plot points and some of the characters will not be my own design but by theirs. I received a request to give this a shot, so I am.
Lastly, I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read this. This will be the first novel that I will have completely finished and allowed the public to read. It has not been edited by anyone other than myself, so I am very sure there will be plenty of mistakes. Besides for technical errors, I would still very much appreciate any feedback you can provide, positive and negative. I'm a very new writer and would like to hear all the tips that readers and more experienced writers can give me. Thank you!