Cormyr: 1765

This is an intro to a series I am considering writing that takes place in a semi-custom world that I creaded. It takes Lee Greenwood's Forgotten Realms and advances the time by about four hundred years to the year 1765, where the technology is similar to that of Earth's around that time period in Europe. Several Faerunian nations are based off of real-world nations, most notably Cormyr being simliar to the British Empire and Calmishan being similar to Spain.

I decided to attempt writing in this time period adventures about a young Cormyrian War Wizard Major named James Riley who is stationed in Chult, which is now a benevolent colonial holding of the Cormyrian Empire.

I moved this from Fanfiction because I thought it was more appropriate here.

“Major Riley to the front,” came a distinctly elven voice from the head of the company column, growing stronger as the NCO’s along the way repeated the call. It reached the column’s center where Major Riley of the Cormyrian War Wizards stood mounted atop his phantom steed.

James Riley kicked his boots into the sides of the ethereal mount and galloped forward, crushing the soft jungle underbrush of Chult beneath the magical horse’s feet until he reached the head of the column where Captain Lomanii stood on her horse leading the 60th Rifles.

Major Riley rode up to the female elven officer, who seemed to be listening intently with her pointed ears to some sound unintelligible to round human ears. Major Riley raised his fist and arm in a right angle, signaling a halt to the column. Captain Lomanii paced her horse a few meters ahead before stopping completely and narrowing her focus.

“Flank security, first sergeant,” Major Riley told the crusty old dwarven first sergeant, who in turn directed the company to point their weapons to each side of the road and into the thick jungle that lay beyond.

With a soft kick, Major Riley directed his steed to the side of Captain Lomanii, who was still intently listening to something in the distance. He broke the silence and asked the company commander what she was directing her senses too.

“What do you hear, captain?” he asked quiety.

“A lot of feet, sir,” she replied, “and…battle.”

Major Riley tapped into the Weave momentarily and summoned forth a translucence eye that materialized in front of him and then shot forward with lightning speed. He directed it ahead, to the next village on their patrol and then suddenly a flurry of images raced into his consciousness: the village was under attack by a strange race savagely dressed humanoids.

“The village is under attack,” Major Riley said with unprecedented urgency. It was a grave situation: the 60th Rifles were at least 20 minutes away from the village, even at the double.

Without hesitation, Captain Lomanii dismounted from her horse and drew her sword. “Sixtieth Rifles, at the double, march!”

The company began a formation run down the road to the village, the sense of urgency driving Captain Lomanii. Major Riley brought his phantom steed to a trot to maintain with the column.

Major Riley had been to this particular colonial settlement before, and began recalling its general layout in his mind. It was a small throp, about 300 people and 250 slaves living in colonial homes. It was a farming village, so most of the land surrounding it was open space reserved for the farmer’s fields.

They were approaching from the west, which with the winds meant that they were upwind of the attackers. If they had any extraordinary abilities of scent, they would not detect the 60th Rifles. But the riflemen were still a good distance away, and the village could be in flames by the time they arrived.

As they neared the village, they could all smell the smoke in the air, and Captain Lomanii pushed up the pace. Major Riley gave the signal for the company to form line on the town, focusing the firepower of the 60th Rifles to the front and the rear, where he expected t make contact.

The scent of burning flesh and wood filled the air and the company entered the town…