Nen-Thoth - Battle 2 - Assassins!
The battle within the pyramid was but only the first of many to come in the following days. Alahel had managed to gather all of his search parties. Several of his men had been lost to ancient traps and pit-falls, but many of the best remained.

Quickly he explained of the harrowing experience within the pyramid and of what he expected of the Dirz once their scout failed to return. Since none of the other search parties had encountered any of the Dirz other than his own, Alahel was certain that those he had fought were sent in advance of a much larger force. The Dirz would be cautious since their scouts would not have returned, however, they did not know what exactly to expect – therefore leaving him with the element of surprise.

Plans were made to ascertain the size of the Dirz force that was surely approaching. He sent his best marksmen and their best spyglass to the summit of the great pyramid to serve as a look out. Days passed without any notice of the expected Alchemists. The search of the ruins continued while Alahel recovered from his wounds and directed search parties from a tent at the base of the great pyramid.

Their chief linguist had difficulty rebuilding the language of Nen-Thoth and so much of the hidden meanings of their writings were lost which made their artifact search more tiresome and prone to error. The searchers had recovered many precious jewels, amulets, brooches and ancient weapons, but none of which seemed to fit the description of what they were so desperately searching. A great heap of weapons, armor and several chests of treasures were arrayed under and near the tent of Alahel.

Suddenly the watchmen from far above landed hard on the drift of sand that lay at the side of the pyramid. Shocked, Alahel went to check on the man, but he was passed all hope and prayer alike – his heart had been cleaved by a poisoned metal bolt that still dripped of Black Death. A flicker from his right eye brought his attention back in time to dodge the scything attack of the scorpion warrior. The metal scythe had plunged deeply into the body of the look-out with a resounding thump. Alahel dove for his weapons inside of the tent, but fell several feet short. He grabbed whatever was first at hand – a set of ancient bent swords, stacked on the pile of other weapons returned from the tombs. The scorpion was on him almost immediately.

The scribe, who had been cataloging the findings of the searchers, looked up from his work under the open tent to see the scorpion move to strike once again. He grasped the alarm bell and began to ring it as he ran forth from the tent to raise the alarm. Alahel stepped to his right and out of the tent, spinning with a parry of the scorpions’ slashing mechanical scythe, he brought up the ancient sword in his right hand and brought it down hard on the thick armor of the scorpions’ shoulder. The hilt sang and vibrated as the ceremonial blade shattered sending glittering shards of metal flying in all directions.

The force of the blow was enough to put the scorpion on his guard for just a moment. The brief respite allowed Alahel to move back under the tent and grab his trustworthy long sword. Thus armed – his own sword and the ancient scimitar were all that he needed to defeat the scorpion now standing before him. His armor lay but a foot away, but there was no time to pause to don the armor, nor would his wound allow such a feat. He faced his adversary that had now recovered from the stunning blow.

A bolt flew past Alahels’ ear as the crossbowman stepped out from behind the cover of the side of the pyramid. His shot had gone wide but it left a vicious fume in its wake – undoubtedly a potent toxin. Alahel charged towards the scorpion warrior – the ancient sword ringing out as it clanged on the armored hide. He continued his charge past and directly into the crossbowman. Caught cranking the crossbow into the firing position again, Alahel’s long sword plunged deeply into the chest of the weakling clone. The body crumpled and slid off of the sword with little effort, the sand quickly soaked its blood and viscous fluids.

The scorpion charged towards Alahel once again, this time his alchemical fluids coursing through his veins brought down a tremendous attack. Alahel attempted to parry the blow, but the morning star wielded by the scorpion wrapped around the ancient sword and wrenched it from his hand. The scythes bit deep into Alahel’s shoulder driving him to the ground with such force that he almost lost consciousness. Alahel brought his long sword up again feebly. The blow was not even noticed by the brooding warrior. It withdrew his scything talons and reared for a second attack.

A shot rang from somewhere seemingly far off. The scorpion was jerked to his left. A second shot brought the creature to its knees. A third and final shot brought the monster to an utter and final death right next to where Alahel lay in the hot Aarklash sun. Three more crossbowmen stepped out from behind the pyramid and moved into the now vacant tent. They gave Alahel no notice, thinking he was finished already, they had begun to fire on the three reapers who were hurriedly reloading their sacred pistols. One of the bolts passed through the meaty part of a reapers’ thigh. A second bolt passed through the arm of another. The third bowman failed to find his mark and was hit by the flying shot of his own target. The reapers advanced as they reloaded – their blades would bring about the retribution the Dirz deserved.

The Dirz crossbowmen had still taken no notice to Alahel since their backs were turned to the seemingly dead body. Alahel managed to stand and make his way behind the bowmen. The first bowmans’ head was split like a ripe melon almost down to its pulsating neck. It fell lifeless while he turned his attention to the others. Before he could land another blow, his strength failed and he collapsed to the hot sand. The bowmen let off one last volley of bolts before they felt the cold hard steel of the reapers’ blades. The last battle was short lived but vicious. The reapers dispatched the Dirz bowmen quickly and with a fury that would be difficult to best.

The battle had almost taken Alahel. However, the lions had been expectant on the need of the healing and mending ways of the clerics and magicians of Alahan. Within days, Alahel was once again directing the actions of his men and defending the necropolis of Nen-Thoth as the full weight of the Dirz force crashed upon them…