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The Burning Seven (updated on 3-21-07)
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<blockquote data-quote="A Crazy Fool" data-source="post: 3411619" data-attributes="member: 28598"><p>Background for the story</p><p>the six (soon seven in this story) current PCs are slightly unstable pyromaniacal nobles who attained their title by fighting numerous succesful battles early in thier carrer (against kobolds, of course). They then progressed to dealing with small isolated incidents of various sorts. Now, their home island is under attack from the Ir-Sir, essentialy humans, but ones who are somewhat larger, stronger and smarter. Right now they have moved to the coast of the island to join the battle against the invaders, who have recently landed on the island. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>“Halt and identify yourselves,” demanded an Erevan soldier, dressed in a chain shirt. He carried a Dala sword and a light crossbow and wore the emblem of the Army of the High King as well as an orange officer’s armband emblazoned with the same symbol on his left arm.</p><p></p><p>“We are the Burning Six, rulers of Red River. We’ve come to help fight off the Ir-Sir,” responded Jacai. </p><p></p><p>“I’ve heard of you. You should go to the main camp and speak to General Harda.”</p><p>At this, Shade again vanished from sight. The procession continued down the path, now swampy. In the distance smoke rose from both camps and the burning battlefield. </p><p></p><p>The party came to a hastily built watchtower built from branches lashed sloppily together. On it stood two guards holding crossbows pointed at them. </p><p></p><p>“Halt and state your business,” ordered one.</p><p></p><p>“We are here to speak to General Harda and to help in the fight,” answered Jacai again.</p><p></p><p>“You may enter,” said the guard, gesturing to the open gate in the wooden fortification. </p><p></p><p></p><p>General Harda was a small, thin man with a long, thick, graying brown beard and short hair. He was one of the High King’s personal wizards, apparently one of great power. He wore grey-blue robe emblazoned with a personal crest and had the orange armband of an officer tied around is left arm. He paced the room, looking at a scrying mirror which he carried in one hand. In the other, he held a silver pen, which he distractedly twirled between his fingers. </p><p></p><p>“Who are you and why have you been sent to me.” </p><p></p><p>“We are the Burning Six, from Red River. We’ve come to join the battle,” said Jacai again. </p><p></p><p>“I have heard of you. I believe I signed the order for you to replace Lord Garth as the rulers of Red River. I was also the one who enchanted your airship; simple piece of work as it was. It is good you’ve come; we are seriously short on experienced warriors and spellcasters. The Ir-Sir’s elite troops and wizards are proving to be something of a challenge.”</p><p></p><p>“We’ve eliminated two wizards of note already, both were experienced enough to cast at least a teleport spell, and they both had a guard of elites,” said Hennet. </p><p></p><p>“Yes, the Ir-Sir have at least twenty remaining wizards of that power, I think; probably more. If you have managed this, then you’re probably able to run something of an errand for me. I need somebody to break a group of soldiers out–independent ones like you. Right now, they’re surrounded by Ir-Sir in a rocky section of the shore. I sent them behind the enemy lines to get some better intelligence on the enemy positions, but they’ve been found out. They’re trapped, but holding their positions. I can teleport you to their location, but you’ll probably have to fight you way out on your own unless something changes for the better. Fortunately, the Ir-Sir can’t spare too many troops to deal with the problem because we’ve got them tied up now. You ought to be able to manage something like this. Before I send you on your way, I appreciate the service you are doing without being asked by His Majesty, there will be a reward for this loyalty.” </p><p></p><p>“We’re ready to go now, I think,” said Jacai.</p><p></p><p>Hennet nodded in agreement. </p><p></p><p>“I will be sending you off then. This information is important and it could mean the difference between success and failure. May the gods look kindly on you.”</p><p></p><p>Harda began the invocation for a mass teleport, holding his hands high. The world of Harda’s simple tent vanished and was replaced with a white nothingness.</p><p></p><p></p><p> The party appeared on a small, rocky peninsula jutting out from the coast. In front of them, they saw eight defenders fighting off Ir-Sir soldiers, who had to move double-file across a thin land bridge. Thankfully, the party had all appeared behind rocks, giving them shelter from the clouds of Ir-Sir arrows. The defenders aimed at side of the line of soldiers crossing from the wider part of their peninsula that they occupied. They then ducked away to avoid the heavy return fire. In addition to the arrows, there was also the occasional spell, cast by rank and file Ir-Sir wizards.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re here to reinforce you,” yelled Jacai over the noise. </p><p></p><p> The nearest member of the group of original defenders, a lightly armored human fighting with what appeared to be a wand of magic missile from its effect turned at the source of the noise. </p><p></p><p> “Reinforcements, five of them, he called out. They told us you’d be coming.”</p><p></p><p> “Good,” called another defender, a half-elf who carried a shortbow that fired glowing blue arrows that seemed to unerringly strike their targets even around cover.</p><p></p><p> Shade made a soft, birdlike noise that seemed to be her equivalent of a laugh. Over the sound of the pitched battle, it was hardly possible to hear her loading her immense crossbow. Selavel, Tiavin, and Vex all drew their longbows from behind the cover of the stones. Hennet and Jacai both drew their light crossbows.</p><p></p><p> “I don’t know why I bother with this damn thing,” grumbled Hennet, flicking the safety he had built for his crossbow off.</p><p></p><p> “If I can’t cook, Hennet, you can’t shoot, it’s only fair.”</p><p></p><p> “Our lives don’t depend on your ability as a cook.”</p><p></p><p> “If I’m cooking meat they do.”</p><p></p><p> “Let’s shoot them already,” said Hennet. “Why didn’t I bring my plate warriors?”</p><p></p><p> “Yeah, they would help, wouldn’t they,” said Vex, who fired, the arrow bouncing harmlessly off a shield. </p><p></p><p> Vex growled an obscure orcish curse and drew another barbed arrow from his quiver. Tiavin leaned out to take a shot. Her aim was good, and she struck the back of one of the Ir-Sir’s knees. He tumbled off the thin pass onto the jagged rocks below. Tiavin however was too slow to take cover, and several Ir-Sir marksmen fired at her. One arrow struck her lower arm. She pulled the arrow out of the wound and snapped it. Seconds later, a fireball detonated in the middle of the group of marksmen who had been responsible for her injury. The arrow fire let up somewhat at this reduction in numbers.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="A Crazy Fool, post: 3411619, member: 28598"] Background for the story the six (soon seven in this story) current PCs are slightly unstable pyromaniacal nobles who attained their title by fighting numerous succesful battles early in thier carrer (against kobolds, of course). They then progressed to dealing with small isolated incidents of various sorts. Now, their home island is under attack from the Ir-Sir, essentialy humans, but ones who are somewhat larger, stronger and smarter. Right now they have moved to the coast of the island to join the battle against the invaders, who have recently landed on the island. “Halt and identify yourselves,” demanded an Erevan soldier, dressed in a chain shirt. He carried a Dala sword and a light crossbow and wore the emblem of the Army of the High King as well as an orange officer’s armband emblazoned with the same symbol on his left arm. “We are the Burning Six, rulers of Red River. We’ve come to help fight off the Ir-Sir,” responded Jacai. “I’ve heard of you. You should go to the main camp and speak to General Harda.” At this, Shade again vanished from sight. The procession continued down the path, now swampy. In the distance smoke rose from both camps and the burning battlefield. The party came to a hastily built watchtower built from branches lashed sloppily together. On it stood two guards holding crossbows pointed at them. “Halt and state your business,” ordered one. “We are here to speak to General Harda and to help in the fight,” answered Jacai again. “You may enter,” said the guard, gesturing to the open gate in the wooden fortification. General Harda was a small, thin man with a long, thick, graying brown beard and short hair. He was one of the High King’s personal wizards, apparently one of great power. He wore grey-blue robe emblazoned with a personal crest and had the orange armband of an officer tied around is left arm. He paced the room, looking at a scrying mirror which he carried in one hand. In the other, he held a silver pen, which he distractedly twirled between his fingers. “Who are you and why have you been sent to me.” “We are the Burning Six, from Red River. We’ve come to join the battle,” said Jacai again. “I have heard of you. I believe I signed the order for you to replace Lord Garth as the rulers of Red River. I was also the one who enchanted your airship; simple piece of work as it was. It is good you’ve come; we are seriously short on experienced warriors and spellcasters. The Ir-Sir’s elite troops and wizards are proving to be something of a challenge.” “We’ve eliminated two wizards of note already, both were experienced enough to cast at least a teleport spell, and they both had a guard of elites,” said Hennet. “Yes, the Ir-Sir have at least twenty remaining wizards of that power, I think; probably more. If you have managed this, then you’re probably able to run something of an errand for me. I need somebody to break a group of soldiers out–independent ones like you. Right now, they’re surrounded by Ir-Sir in a rocky section of the shore. I sent them behind the enemy lines to get some better intelligence on the enemy positions, but they’ve been found out. They’re trapped, but holding their positions. I can teleport you to their location, but you’ll probably have to fight you way out on your own unless something changes for the better. Fortunately, the Ir-Sir can’t spare too many troops to deal with the problem because we’ve got them tied up now. You ought to be able to manage something like this. Before I send you on your way, I appreciate the service you are doing without being asked by His Majesty, there will be a reward for this loyalty.” “We’re ready to go now, I think,” said Jacai. Hennet nodded in agreement. “I will be sending you off then. This information is important and it could mean the difference between success and failure. May the gods look kindly on you.” Harda began the invocation for a mass teleport, holding his hands high. The world of Harda’s simple tent vanished and was replaced with a white nothingness. The party appeared on a small, rocky peninsula jutting out from the coast. In front of them, they saw eight defenders fighting off Ir-Sir soldiers, who had to move double-file across a thin land bridge. Thankfully, the party had all appeared behind rocks, giving them shelter from the clouds of Ir-Sir arrows. The defenders aimed at side of the line of soldiers crossing from the wider part of their peninsula that they occupied. They then ducked away to avoid the heavy return fire. In addition to the arrows, there was also the occasional spell, cast by rank and file Ir-Sir wizards. “We’re here to reinforce you,” yelled Jacai over the noise. The nearest member of the group of original defenders, a lightly armored human fighting with what appeared to be a wand of magic missile from its effect turned at the source of the noise. “Reinforcements, five of them, he called out. They told us you’d be coming.” “Good,” called another defender, a half-elf who carried a shortbow that fired glowing blue arrows that seemed to unerringly strike their targets even around cover. Shade made a soft, birdlike noise that seemed to be her equivalent of a laugh. Over the sound of the pitched battle, it was hardly possible to hear her loading her immense crossbow. Selavel, Tiavin, and Vex all drew their longbows from behind the cover of the stones. Hennet and Jacai both drew their light crossbows. “I don’t know why I bother with this damn thing,” grumbled Hennet, flicking the safety he had built for his crossbow off. “If I can’t cook, Hennet, you can’t shoot, it’s only fair.” “Our lives don’t depend on your ability as a cook.” “If I’m cooking meat they do.” “Let’s shoot them already,” said Hennet. “Why didn’t I bring my plate warriors?” “Yeah, they would help, wouldn’t they,” said Vex, who fired, the arrow bouncing harmlessly off a shield. Vex growled an obscure orcish curse and drew another barbed arrow from his quiver. Tiavin leaned out to take a shot. Her aim was good, and she struck the back of one of the Ir-Sir’s knees. He tumbled off the thin pass onto the jagged rocks below. Tiavin however was too slow to take cover, and several Ir-Sir marksmen fired at her. One arrow struck her lower arm. She pulled the arrow out of the wound and snapped it. Seconds later, a fireball detonated in the middle of the group of marksmen who had been responsible for her injury. The arrow fire let up somewhat at this reduction in numbers. [/QUOTE]
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