1. Stay your blade from the flesh of a innocent
2. Remain Subtle
3. Never compromise the Brotherhood
Crimson Blade Chapter 3Altair watched from the shadows as Quamir al sahd, a slave trader, examined his latest import of slaves. Now was the time to strike! Altair quickly checked his weapons one last time. When Quamir turned to gaze into the shadows where his death awaited he saw nothing of the assassin hiding there, only shadows. Perhaps he had heard the slight intake of breath or the barely audible click of Altairs' blade as it slid into the base of his glove. Whatever had caused Quamirs' paranoia quickly passed as he shrugged and turned to finish his examination.
" Take this one out." He snapped at one of his guards. they bowed and pulled a struggling woman out of a cage to Altairs' left. Altair silently assessed the woman in the dim candle light. Black, no brown hair. Her face was covered in grime and her large eyes told him that she was scared beyond wits end. She was tantalizingly familiar. A spark lit a fire in his mind and Altair gasped. He recognized her alright, she was Ahda, his wife.
" Such a bea
Crimson Blade Chapter 2Altair slowly walked through the streets of Jerusalem. The guards were being particularly nosey, or more than usual anyway. That ass Merrick didn't think he had enough information. So hard to reason with him, that man can hold a grudge. He sighed and cursed when he heard the "pleasant" shouts from the guards behind him.
He turned around to see what all the shouts were about. He already knew, it was all to obvious. The sword on his hip and blade on his back were just screaming Assassin. Luckily some of the guards were either too stupid enough or slow enough to think he was a well armed monk. Some not all. Like these ones for example. Altair burst into a sprint and knocked down some stalls, ran down a few beggars, until he decided that he'd been leading them on long enough.
Altair whirled around. The guards were still there, albeit all the way ay the end of the street. He sighed, exasperated.
Do these guys ever give up, he thought as he rushed into a back alley.
He could still hear the c
Assassins CreedGone forever, Lost in thought.
To be with you forever not.
King and Queen sit on their throne,
staring down at all they own.
Spreading sorrow and regret,
all the lost we shall never forget.
Hard we work for our fair share,
to ask for more one will never dare.
Fight to save our lives we must,
to kill the evil they think is just.
They plauge the land with the plight,
taking away our will to fight.
Sucking away our strength and desire,
and burning them all in their fire.
The shadows protect me from their heed,
I am forever the assasins creed.
This lacks a title.The Tank let out a final enraged, gargling roar, before falling off of the roof of the car and flat onto the ground. After fighting for so long and so hard, it was finally dead.
Nick slowly, warily, crawled out of his hiding place and inched his way to the hulking body. The raw muscle rippled beneath its bloody, torn flesh, almost like gelatin, as he poked at it with the barrel of his Magnum. The Infected thankfully gave no response. With a sneer, Nick lowered the weapon and planted as many bullets into its head as he could, unloading a whole clip. Pieces and chunks of Tank brain oozed and splattered out onto the road with each bullet, ensuring its death. It was a necessity, because having it suddenly throw a car at them from behind as it had done only minutes earlier would have surely killed them.
A few feet away, a young man lie motionless on the ground, blood slowly pouring from a large, gaping wound in his leg and staining the pavement a deep scarlet. He was completely covered in b
Assassins Creed Jingle BellsWhat the hell
What the hell
On the roof tops and in the boats,
Wait here comes Altair!
What the hell,
What the hell,
The master is a fraud;
Kick his ass and take the staff,
and then go make a spawn!
Dashin' 'cross the lake,
Upon only the planks,
Must get to Malik,
Before I get flanked.
Take down an archer,
Jump into the hay,
Climb another building,
AND THERE'S THE BUEARU, HEY!
What the hell,
What the hell,
Flags are everywhere,
Collect them all and have a ball,
Cuz' AlMualm ain't there.
Nothing is True: The CreedNothing is True:
If nothing is True then what can I believe in?
If nothing is True then who can I trust?
If nothing is True then where do I put my faith?
The answers are simple:
If nothing is True then what can I believe in? My hard work and my Blade
If nothing is True then who can I trust? Only myself
If nothing is True then where do I put my faith? On the tip of my Blade
Trust no one but yourself, the brotherhood, and your blade. In those three things can you only rely, if you cannot rely on those three things then you do not know the meaning of the word Assassin.
Where nothing is True, yet Everything is permitted.
Addicted to Assassin's Creed?Signs you're addicted to Assassin's Creed:
1. When asked what your dream job is, you say "I wanna be an assassin!"
2. You can usually be found wearing a white hoodie, or white cloak with a hood sewn on.
3. You've made your own hidden blade.
4. You've chopped off your ring finger in order to use said hidden blade.
5. You were smart and made the sequel version of the hidden blade in order to keep your ring finger.
6. You smear blood on the feather of a bird and claim you just succeeded in an assassination.
7. You try to swing from planters hanging on porches, streetlights, etc.
8. You hop from roof to roof.
9. You climb onto your town's watertower and attempt to "Synchronize"
10. You address those you don't like as "Templars"
11. When you don't want to do something, you say "VIVA LE RESISTANCE!"
12. You have recently gotten into free-running or cross-country
13. Whenever you see an oddly-shaped metal bench or table, you lay on it and ask "Why isn't the Animus working...?"
14. When listen
Ezio: FamilyRoma 1502 CE
Stefano put the leather piece between Ezio's teeth.
"Here, bite for me, my friend."
The Master Assassin was sweating and shivering. His chest had been laid bare so Stefano could remove the bullet. His eyes followed every move the condotierro made.
Stefano examined his implements of surgery. Knives, scalpels, a bowl for water and bandages. The only thing he really needed now was Ezio unconscious. But that was not likely. His friend was holding on to awareness like a lifeline. Reluctant at best, Stefano thought, to relinquish his control on his life.
He bent low over Ezio.
"Your sister is going to take my head off probably a piece at a time."
His friend's hand closed around his own. Humour lines crinkled at the corner of the Assassin's mouth.
"Bastardo," Stefano muttered. "You find that funny do you?"
Ezio's face became a fixed mask of humour that slipped badly as unconsciousness loomed. He was pale, his skin was clammy, hair plastered to his forehead.