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Description
Altair whirled, unleashing his hidden blade into the base of a Templar's skull. The rain poured down as if the very heavens were mourning those that had been killed in a riot earlier that day. More of the guards were closing in after hearing the commotion from the fight; apparently they had increased patrols because of the riot. Damn them, damn the fucking bastardos that were ganging up on him. He threw a smoke bomb, hoping to have a screen of protection against the swarming Templars. However, he would have to work quickly before the wind and rain destroyed his cover.

The Templars coughed, the smoke blinding them and choking their lungs. Another man died from the bite of the assassin's blade, dropping to the ground as blood spurted from his throat. The soldiers slashed blindly, trying to wound the assassin and mostly succeeding in only blocking one another's swords. A flash of lightning was Altair's downfall; it illuminated his silhouette against the cloud of smoke.

A sharp burning pain shot through the assassin's side, a heavily armored Templar wielding an axe had opened a wound just above his hip. He turned to attack, then stumbled as the injury burned white hot from the movement. The foe struck again, ripping open a cut on his thigh, the blade nipping deep into the muscle. Altair crumpled to the dock's roughly hewn planks, his sword clattering against the wood beside him as he clutched the bleeding cuts.

The guard slashed at his fallen victim, ripping open lacerations on the man's chest and back, wherever he could reach, while another pair of Templars came to help. The axe man used his boot to roughly kick the assassin over in a more vulnerable position, pressing his boot against Altair's throat and effectively cut off his air while the other two jabbed at their prey with swords. Choking, the assassin clawed at the boot of the soldier in vain, trying to find a weak point to force the man off of him. The world was starting to turn fuzzy at the edges, the colors blurring together as his scrabbling weakened.

Suddenly, the two sword carrying Templars dropped to the ground, clutching at their throats as their breaths gurgled from the holes, bloody bubbles emerging as they took their dying gasps. The axe man looked at his dying companions, eyes widening in fear, then swung the axe high to deliver the final blow to the assassin and flee. The weapon came down, Altair closed his eyes and waited to feel the pain that would never come. A figure had leapt from the rooftops, shoving the Templar back and shielding the assassin, the blade only cut into the flesh of the stranger instead of committing a death blow to Altair. Both men looked at the stranger who was kneeling, bleeding, over Altair in a protective stance. Lightning flashed, showing a pair of cold, dark eyes glaring warningly at the Templar, metal gleamed from the knife that the stranger carried.

The blade flew through the air, sticking between the plates of armor that the Templar wore. He laughed cruelly when he saw his new opponent was armed only with knives, but the attack had just been a distraction. Drawing another knife, the figure lunged, tackling the Templar instead of wounding him. Altair gulped air into his lungs, coughing violently as the two wrestled for control, then broke apart. The stranger stood in front of the assassin, protective, as the Templar swung his axe towards them with a malicious grin. The weapon was disturbingly close to what could have been a nasty blow when the stranger blocked it with a chunk of rock and sank a hidden blade into the Templar's unprotected neck.

Description
Altair whirled, unleashing his hidden blade into the base of a Templar's skull. The rain poured down as if the very heavens were mourning those that had been killed in a riot earlier that day. More of the guards were closing in after hearing the commotion from the fight; apparently they had increased patrols because of the riot. Damn them, damn the fucking bastardos that were ganging up on him. He threw a smoke bomb, hoping to have a screen of protection against the swarming Templars. However, he would have to work quickly before the wind and rain destroyed his cover.

The Templars coughed, the smoke blinding them and choking their lungs. Another man died from the bite of the assassin's blade, dropping to the ground as blood spurted from his throat. The soldiers slashed blindly, trying to wound the assassin and mostly succeeding in only blocking one another's swords. A flash of lightning was Altair's downfall; it illuminated his silhouette against the cloud of smoke.

A sharp burning pain shot through the assassin's side, a heavily armored Templar wielding an axe had opened a wound just above his hip. He turned to attack, then stumbled as the injury burned white hot from the movement. The foe struck again, ripping open a cut on his thigh, the blade nipping deep into the muscle. Altair crumpled to the dock's roughly hewn planks, his sword clattering against the wood beside him as he clutched the bleeding cuts.

The guard slashed at his fallen victim, ripping open lacerations on the man's chest and back, wherever he could reach, while another pair of Templars came to help. The axe man used his boot to roughly kick the assassin over in a more vulnerable position, pressing his boot against Altair's throat and effectively cut off his air while the other two jabbed at their prey with swords. Choking, the assassin clawed at the boot of the soldier in vain, trying to find a weak point to force the man off of him. The world was starting to turn fuzzy at the edges, the colors blurring together as his scrabbling weakened.

Suddenly, the two sword carrying Templars dropped to the ground, clutching at their throats as their breaths gurgled from the holes, bloody bubbles emerging as they took their dying gasps. The axe man looked at his dying companions, eyes widening in fear, then swung the axe high to deliver the final blow to the assassin and flee. The weapon came down, Altair closed his eyes and waited to feel the pain that would never come. A figure had leapt from the rooftops, shoving the Templar back and shielding the assassin, the blade only cut into the flesh of the stranger instead of committing a death blow to Altair. Both men looked at the stranger who was kneeling, bleeding, over Altair in a protective stance. Lightning flashed, showing a pair of cold, dark eyes glaring warningly at the Templar, metal gleamed from the knife that the stranger carried.

The blade flew through the air, sticking between the plates of armor that the Templar wore. He laughed cruelly when he saw his new opponent was armed only with knives, but the attack had just been a distraction. Drawing another knife, the figure lunged, tackling the Templar instead of wounding him. Altair gulped air into his lungs, coughing violently as the two wrestled for control, then broke apart. The stranger stood in front of the assassin, protective, as the Templar swung his axe towards them with a malicious grin. The weapon was disturbingly close to what could have been a nasty blow when the stranger blocked it with a chunk of rock and sank a hidden blade into the Templar's unprotected neck.