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Description
“There he is!”

Altair whirled around to see Templar soldiers rushing his way, weapons drawn and shining in the setting sun. He hadn’t done anything to make them want to attack him, not today anyways. Sprinting away from the oncoming enemy, he shoved his way through the crowded city, rounding a corner and taking a set of stairs two at a time. The citizens were slowing him down, the guards were gaining ground quickly so the assassin selected an open area with plenty of room to fight and drew his own sword as a man with a halberd moved in for an attack.

He dodged the initial strike, parrying it neatly with his blade as he forced the Templar back a few steps. A sharp blow across his back made him stumble; he hadn’t been expecting the other guards to catch up as fast as they had. Altair’s sword found its mark in a soldier’s chest; he pulled it out, splattering blood across the other Templars in the process, and blocked a sword attack. A throwing knife sank into a guard’s throat, another into the shoulder of yet another enemy, the assassin’s sword ripping open a man’s belly before one of the hidden blades in the gauntlet was jammed into the soft flesh under the enemy’s chin. A battle axe caught his thigh, nipping deep into the muscle, when his attention wavered momentarily from the fight to the injury one of the guards managed to get a lucky blow just beneath Altair’s ribs with something hard and blunt. The assassin dropped to the ground, winded, and struck out with his feet to kick one of the guards in the shin.

Drawing air into his aching lungs, Altair was relieved when a familiar face jumped into the fray. The man had his own weapon drawn, a sword that had spilled the blood of many Templars in the hand of its owner. But his ally didn’t attack the soldiers that surrounded them, instead he pressed the tip of the blade against the assassin’s throat. Altair’s eyes widened as he looked up at his friend, a man he trusted and would give his life for.

“Put him in shackles,” snapped the newcomer. “We don’t want him getting away now that we have him in our grasp.”

“Why are you doing this?” Altair wanted to know as the Templars roughly clamped manacles around his wrists. His mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on, this seemed like a terrible nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from.

The man looked down at him as he sheathed his weapon, Altair was dragged to his feet but firmly held in place by the enemy. “You should have known it would have come to this, Altair. Or are you so much of a fool that you were blind to it all? She doesn’t love you, it was all a lie, a ruse, to make you drop your guard. She just wants the bounty that your head will bring. You said it yourself, who could ever love an Assassin? You can’t get away with your murderous crimes forever, assassin. In the end, justice will be had.” He looked at the guards, adding, “Take him away.”

Altair struggled against his captors, fighting his bonds and causing the metal to bite into his wrists. He couldn’t believe this was happening, he had trusted them, trusted her. She had promised that she’d protect him, that she’d always be there for him no matter what, treating his wounds and caring for him. And it had all been just a hoax so they could get the bounty. A flash of white on the rooftops above made him look up, a white robed figure stood there watching the scene below. Another ally, he couldn’t see their face. A true one perhaps? This glimmer of hope soon faded as the stranger did nothing as the Templars dragged Altair away into the oncoming twilight.

Description
“There he is!”

Altair whirled around to see Templar soldiers rushing his way, weapons drawn and shining in the setting sun. He hadn’t done anything to make them want to attack him, not today anyways. Sprinting away from the oncoming enemy, he shoved his way through the crowded city, rounding a corner and taking a set of stairs two at a time. The citizens were slowing him down, the guards were gaining ground quickly so the assassin selected an open area with plenty of room to fight and drew his own sword as a man with a halberd moved in for an attack.

He dodged the initial strike, parrying it neatly with his blade as he forced the Templar back a few steps. A sharp blow across his back made him stumble; he hadn’t been expecting the other guards to catch up as fast as they had. Altair’s sword found its mark in a soldier’s chest; he pulled it out, splattering blood across the other Templars in the process, and blocked a sword attack. A throwing knife sank into a guard’s throat, another into the shoulder of yet another enemy, the assassin’s sword ripping open a man’s belly before one of the hidden blades in the gauntlet was jammed into the soft flesh under the enemy’s chin. A battle axe caught his thigh, nipping deep into the muscle, when his attention wavered momentarily from the fight to the injury one of the guards managed to get a lucky blow just beneath Altair’s ribs with something hard and blunt. The assassin dropped to the ground, winded, and struck out with his feet to kick one of the guards in the shin.

Drawing air into his aching lungs, Altair was relieved when a familiar face jumped into the fray. The man had his own weapon drawn, a sword that had spilled the blood of many Templars in the hand of its owner. But his ally didn’t attack the soldiers that surrounded them, instead he pressed the tip of the blade against the assassin’s throat. Altair’s eyes widened as he looked up at his friend, a man he trusted and would give his life for.

“Put him in shackles,” snapped the newcomer. “We don’t want him getting away now that we have him in our grasp.”

“Why are you doing this?” Altair wanted to know as the Templars roughly clamped manacles around his wrists. His mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on, this seemed like a terrible nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from.

The man looked down at him as he sheathed his weapon, Altair was dragged to his feet but firmly held in place by the enemy. “You should have known it would have come to this, Altair. Or are you so much of a fool that you were blind to it all? She doesn’t love you, it was all a lie, a ruse, to make you drop your guard. She just wants the bounty that your head will bring. You said it yourself, who could ever love an Assassin? You can’t get away with your murderous crimes forever, assassin. In the end, justice will be had.” He looked at the guards, adding, “Take him away.”

Altair struggled against his captors, fighting his bonds and causing the metal to bite into his wrists. He couldn’t believe this was happening, he had trusted them, trusted her. She had promised that she’d protect him, that she’d always be there for him no matter what, treating his wounds and caring for him. And it had all been just a hoax so they could get the bounty. A flash of white on the rooftops above made him look up, a white robed figure stood there watching the scene below. Another ally, he couldn’t see their face. A true one perhaps? This glimmer of hope soon faded as the stranger did nothing as the Templars dragged Altair away into the oncoming twilight.