Calder Notley woke up, feeling the sharp, freezing breeze of the blizzard outside his tent. The fur draped over the cloth lining of his tent did little to stop the shearing cold from penetrating its layers. However, being raised in the far north, the ranger had adapted to the frigid climate, much like his family and tribe. He had lived most of his life in the tundra and had grown content with it. While others would pull their blankets closer in an attempt to warm themselves, he instead rose from the ground, knowing it was time to move out. He had an important meeting to make early today and knew that if he was late, there may be no second chance.

Although raised by a human tribe, Calder was a half-elf. His father, Fivin, was an elf who came across the nomads and met a huntress who would end up being the ranger's mother. Fivin later left as he did not wish to endure the harsh conditions the others lived in for decades. Although his father was gone, he had inherited mostly his traits: his body was lean, his ginger hair reached down to his shoulders, and his ears were slightly pointed. It was clear to see the differences the half-elf had from his own family, so he compensated for this by wearing the leather armor the hunters wore and wielding a oak longbow in battle while keeping two short swords sheathed behind his back.

When it came time to leave, Calder grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and made his way out of the makeshift tent. The blizzard nearly blinded him, making it next to impossible to see too far ahead. Thankfully, not too far away, the ranger made out the outline of his half-brother, Manning, carrying a torch whose bright red flame burned intensely. The half-elf made his way over to him, where it was clear to see the differences the two had. Manning was a pure human with short black hair and a bulky build. He too wore leather armor to show off his muscles and holstered his great axe across his back to carry the torch. He scowled at his brother, his hatred for being dragged out here clear to see.

"He's here," Manning reported with a grunt. "Ship docked on the ice not too long ago."

"Are we sure it's him and not an unfortunate group of traders?" Calder asked.

"I doubt anyone would want to stay this far north," Manning shrugged indifferently

"That didn't answer my question," Calder pointed out.

"It wasn't meant to," Manning told him with a huff. "If you want to find out, you can get on board. I'm staying outside."

"As you insist," Calder agreed. "Let's be off then."

"Aye," Manning told him, taking point. "The ship isn't too far away. Only a few minutes of a walk."

The brothers walked together, Manning in the front and Calder in the back. Although the former seemed hostile to the latter, it was only because that what they were doing was risky and warranted punishment. In reality, the fact that the warrior agreed to guided his brother this far was a show of the bond they had. The duo tread across the ice carefully, moving ahead. Thankfully, given their experience with the environment, they slid very little, moving just fast enough to keep up with their goal. One wrong slip and they would be delayed by a short fall.

Finally, the two saw their destination ahead, lit lamps showing the outline of it in the intense blizzard. Approaching closer, they could hear the waves of the sea crashing against the ice. Finally, the blurred image of their objective was revealed to be a wooden ship, grand in size. Their tribe had only utilized keelboats, so seeing a ship this size with masts and sails soaring up into the sky was enough to impress them. An unidentified member of the crew saw them approach and shout indistinguishable words to the rest of the crew. The two saw that a gangplank led up to the deck of the ship, where the crew would be waiting.

"I shall return to our people," Manning told Calder. "You will be safe, yes?"

"If the message I received is true, then I shall be, yes," Calder confirmed with a smile. "I thank you for seeing me this far, brother."

"You would have done the same for me," Manning grinned, extending his hand to his brother.

"That I would," Calder nodded, gripping Manning's hand in a firm handshake. "Take care, Manning."

"You will return, yes?" Manning asked, still holding his brother's hand.

"Eventually," Calder hesitantly answered. "I assure you this isn't our last meeting."

"I'll hold you to that promise," Manning released his brother. "Until next we meet."

With that, Manning turned away from the ship, walking back to the direction they came from. Calder looked over his shoulder, keeping an eye on his brother until the flame that marked his location was shrouded by the blizzard. The half-elf was thankful to have the support of his brother, even if they were not fully related by blood. The tribe shunned the ranger based on his father's blood and it was Manning who looked after him throughout the years. Even today, the warrior gave up some of his own time to ensure his safety.

After seeing his brother off, Calder approached the ramp that led into the ship and walked up it, soon standing upon the deck. A little more than a dozen men of various races had their weapons drawn, half wielding swords and half wielding crossbows. The ranger held his hands up in the air, signifying that he means no harm, but the volatile crew did not back off. There were others on the deck of the ship, either carrying mops and buckets of water, moving heavy crates together, or scrubbing the ice off the wooden railings. Whenever they looked up at the scene, they immediately turned away in fear, pretending not to notice. It was clear to see how the ranking of the crew on this ship went.

"Well, what do we got here, boys?" a burly man wearing a thick, fur coat to protect him from the blizzard approached, scimitar drawn out.

"My name is Calder Notley," he introduced himself. "I'm here-"

"Did I ask you?" the captain asked, glaring at him to silence him. "Would someone of my crew answer?"

"Captain, I think this is the man our employer wanted to see," a feminine voice, not from the armed crew, called out.

"Someone of the servant rank dares to speak?!" the captain lashed out, swinging his scimitar. "Come on, show yourself! You know the rules and I know the voice of my mates well enough!"

"Forget her," Calder told the captain. "Your employer is with you, is he not? Is the elven wizard Fivin with you or am I wasting my time?"

"Aye, he's with us," the captain grinned. "Gave us his life savings just to see his boy one last time. Hate to tell you now, but he has nothing left to give you in his final will."

"Is he dead then?" Calder asked curiously.

"Not yet, but he will be," the captain bluntly told him. "Sickness is claiming him. Was pretty sure that the journey north would be enough to kill him but he's still standing. Someone go and fetch him. One of the servants. I want all of my mates here just in case he tries something."

One of the servants, a man who looked incredibly thin from lack of food, quickly went down to the cabins. Calder remained where he stood, slowly lowering his hands down to his side. Although he had yet to pull out his bow, the crew all kept their weapons out as if expecting him to try anything. The ranger did not bother asking them to lower their blades, knowing it would get him nowhere. Based on the command structure of the crew, it seemed like he was dealing with pirates. Although he had never met one himself, he had heard tales of how they shanghaied the weak to join their crew to perform menial tasks. The captain ruled with fear, able to command just enough armed men to handle any uprising.

It had not taken too long when the servant had returned, supporting a weak and feeble elf at his side. The captain was right when he said that Fivin had little time left on this world. His skin was incredibly pale and wrinkled, his gray hair was tattered and falling out, and without support, he would not be able to carry himself anywhere. The only thing good left were the black robes he wore, finely sewn together. Even though he had never seen the man before, Calder felt sorry for his father when he stared into his weak, green eyes. The wizard broke away from the servant, stumbling as he fell. The ranger ducked down, quickly catching him before he hit the ground and lifted him back up.

"You actually came," Fivin muttered. "I thought for sure your mother would see the message destroyed."

"I got to it first," Calder told his father. "I've been taking lessons from the healer. Maybe I can find a way to help you."

"You can help me, but not in that regard, son," Fivin shook his head, strands of hair falling down. "I made a grave mistake during my search for power, one that may very well change the world as we know it."

"What have you done, Father?" Calder asked, shocked by this news. "What could possibly be that dangerous."

"You see, my mistake had been to join an organization called the Cult of the Dragon," Fivin recounted his story. "They were large in number but their goals were far too ambitious. I did little to help them, only intending to use their resources to aid in my research. Yet, I am aware of the whispers, saying that they have finally found a way to fulfill their plans."

"And what can I possibly do?" Calder asked hesitantly. "Unlike you, I'm not a powerful wizard. I'm just a hunter! How can I possibly hope to confront this cult and succeed where you've failed? I think that you came to the wrong man to settle this matter, Father."

"No, I've come to the right man for the job," Fivin smiled weakly. "I'm powerful, yes, but I only have a spell or two left in me before the strain of magic proves to be too much. You're young, and although inexperienced, I believe that you will find a way to succeed and make up for my sins. It's funny, but I was never a religious man. Yet, I can finally see death, and I know exactly where I'm going. I don't think me telling you will make up for all that I've done. Please, son, grant this wretched man his deathbed wish."

Calder looked hesitantly at his father, questioning if the sickness that befell him was affecting his sanity. Although he had never heard of the Cult of the Dragon or was aware of its strength, he knew that one man was not enough to take down an organization. Fivin was asking too much of him and had been expecting that his son would get the job done simply because they shared the same blood. Yet, this was their first meeting, meaning that the two had nearly no bond with each other. The half-elf only called him father to comfort the dying wizard. It would be easy to say he would stop the cult but return home once the elf passed away, but he did not think it would be right to lie to a dying man.

Yet, if the Cult of the Dragon was a threat that an elderly but powerful wizard could not handle, it must be dangerous to the world. Unlike his father, Calder doubted that he could put a stop to such a cult. Still, part of him knew that despite his lack of skill and experience, he had to try. For all the ranger knew, this threat could affect the entire world, including the small, isolated bastion that his tribe dwelled in. If this threat could be eliminated before it could achieve his plan, it would mean that his family was protected from harm. Even if the half-elf did not think he would succeed, he knew that there was no turning back now.

"I shall help you, Father," Calder replied, slowly smiling. "If this Cult of the Dragon stands against the world, then I shall stand against them to protect it."

"I knew that you would make the right choice in the end, son," Fivin nodded slowly. "The journey will be long and perilous for you, but I think I might have the strength to help you just this once."

"Now hold up," the captain spoke up with a growl. "You're not leaving. You still owe me the other half of your payment."

"I gave to you all of my life's saving at harbor," Fivin did not turn to confront the man. "It is half of the payment I promised, but it is all I can promise. Surely, you can see that the world is at stake here though."

"It may be, but you still owe me, and since you can't pay, I think I'll have you work it off," the captain threatened, grinning. "And when you die, the debt will fall upon your boy there, and he too will have to work it out."

"Father, I don't think you thought this out," Calder resisted the urge to grab his bow in defense. "I don't think we're going anywhere."

"And that's where you're wrong, son," Fivin grinned weakly, cackling. "They took my spellbook away, but I still had a spell prepared designed just to help us and our new friend."

"Fire!" the captain ordered, laughing.

Calder saw the crew wielding crossbows fire their bolts, which flew towards the pair standing in the middle of the deck. Reacting to the attack, the ranger grabbed his father and knelt down with him, attempting to shield him. While doing so, he swore that he heard Fivin chanting an incantation he had never heard of. The half-elf felt something incredibly powerful tugging on him, a supernatural force that he could barely detect. It had to be the spell the elderly wizard had in mind, the one he was now chanting. With the crossbow bolts only inches away, he blacked out as the spell finally came into effect.

A/N: Hey everyone, the name's Archer, and I'm here to introduce the first installment to my Tyranny of Dragons DnD series.

The first time I played Dungeons and Dragons was one year ago, with a group of high school friends. Even though I had no clue what I was doing half the time, I fell in love with the game. After our group fell apart with everyone off to college, I researched 5e and all of the books that came with it, including the different adventures. Finding a new group has been a struggle of mine since my first group disbanded, and I have yet to see a campaign completed. So, I thought it would be best to take one of these adventures and write it into a story.

I got big plans for this series and plan to expand into the other adventures as well. Expect weekly updates every Wednesday. I hope that you enjoyed this introduction, and if you feel the need too, feel free to follow me, this story, or leave a review.

Until next time.