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/Sequence 5, Memory 2

July 1798 - Demenhour, Egypt

Arno rode blindly towards the sound of gunfire, the sand gunking up in his eyes and mouth despite the presence of his scarf. He saw the first signs of hard structures through the sand. He dismounted his camel and tied it off to a fence post.

He moved slowly throughout the sand to the first building and kicked open the door. He stepped inside and quickly threw the door back shut, which silenced the roaring winds to Arno's ears. The house was an empty one room shack, Arno shook the sand off of himself and began to consider how to approach this problem.

'Utilize my Eagle Sense from house to house and see if there are enemies around?' He thought to himself as he continues to brush himself off, realizing he would never again be un-dusty.

Arno closed his eyes for a moment and opened them slowly, the world around him was suddenly blue in hue and red figures adorned the distance, through the wall he was just looking at. Then, an idea struck him.

'I can't say I've ever tried it...but when have I ever needed to...'

He slowly closed his eyes and the blue hue of the world got slightly darker, but the red figures and the walls and doors of other buildings were still discernible. Arno reached down to the end of his jacket and tore off a ribbon of fabric. He placed it over his eyes and tied it as tight as he could muster.

He was going to fight with his eyes closed.

Arno drew his scimitar and walked back towards the door. Taking a deep breath through his scarf he threw it back open and moved toward the red figures in the distance. The howling wind was aggravating to his ears, but it concealed his quick moving foot steps in the sand.

As he closed in on his targets he looked over their armaments.

'Just muskets' Arno thought to himself. 'They stand no chance against Napoleon and his men.'

While Arno wanted to get to Cairo there was no need for these men to die, but due to the language barrier and the sandstorm getting the message across would be impossible.

Arno thought for a moment crouched in the open watching the men of the unit occupying the village lobbing fire out at the French Fleet. He wasn't sure what to do, but staying in the line of fire certainly wasn't it. Arno glanced around and decided he would get a birds eye view to avoid being on the ground level when the French Army arrived.

He moved to the mosque minaret that was a few hundred feet away, sheathed his sword,and quickly scaled it, it was almost a fourth of the height of the Alexandria minaret. Then and idea crossed Arno's mind.

He reached back and touched one of his belt pouches, it was full. He could cause some in-fighting in the ranks and when the French arrived the local army might rout back to prevent the unnecessary deaths.

It was a dangerous strategy, but it made the choice of retreat and easier option for a competent general. Arno removed the Berserk Darts from his pouch and lined them up on the railing in front of him.

He adjusted his blindfold down slightly and sand had been slipping underneath and then grabbed the first dart, loaded it, and aimed down at the ranks with his Phantom Blade Nicholas had gifted him.

He selected his target wisely, the largest man he could find. With a loud 'chunk' sound the dart like blade when flying through the air and pierced the mans side. He slowed down for a moment exhibiting signs of exhaustion then suddenly began wildly swinging his pole arm about.

The men around him fled, some tried to fight back, but it could not be argued that Arno had just broken unit cohesion.

Arno sighted up large fighters 4 more times and sent the ranks of the local force into disarray, men striking the fighters he had poisoned, some men fighting among themselves.

Then the unmistakable sound of musket fire rang out once again. The group of fighting local soldiers screamed and began to scatter into the surrounding houses. Arno looked up and a huge flank for green figures had fired in on the village.

The attack had officially started.

Two hours later

The storm had finally subsided and the fighting was resolved

Arno watched, un-blindfolded, from his perch atop the mosque, as what was left of the local army was forced out of their hiding places and into the desert. The French had inflicted quite a number of casualties, however many of the men had been able to flee the site.

Arno liked to think he had saved some lives, but if tensions escalated and larger forces closed with Napoleons army he wouldn't have much choice, but to take lives out of necessity of self defense.

"You up there." Napoleons voice called from below him. Arno looked down to see Napoleon, looking as clean as ever on his horse at the base of the mosque.

"They had no cannons I see." He added.

"Decided to stay out of your men's way and sow some ideas of retreat into the rear ranks." Arno said justifying his position.

"Seems to have worked." Napoleon yelled up "Come down, we're going to have dinner prepared soon...we'll be staying the night here to tend the wounded and make sure the storm winds have fully passed."

Arno climbed up onto the ledge of the balcony spread his arm and executed the Leap of Faith into a hay cart below. He hopped up and looked at Napoleon.

"How are you so damn clean...was was quite literally just raining sand." Arno said further brushing off his now tan looking blue coat.

"I have my methods, looking presentable is one of my many strong suits." Napoleon said in return.

/End Sequence 5, Memory 2