- "It's conquer or be conquered. We decide."
- ―A short narrative by Leon Damien.
Following the death of Robert Francois, an Assassin who aimed for peace across the land of France, the journey takes us to Venice in Italy and begins to unravel the tale of Leon Damien. Unknown to Leon, his ancestry did not follow the path he was told, that path being one of travelling merchants which paraded around Italy living off scraps of coins that the people threw down, instead his ancestry delves deep into the dark path known as the secret war between the Assassins and Templars. Though this may not be the path he wishes to proceed in.
Chapter 1: The Cloaked Man
The sun had begun to rise, the glow of the sun reflecting off the Venetian rivers and the shipments arriving to docks via ships. One in particular seemed quite peculiar to the eyes of one, Leon Damien. Scanning the ship from a distance, observing the movements of a group of cloaked men. Leon leaped down from the building and kept a fairly large distance from the men, leaning eagerly so that he could here the conversation.
"We can't risk waiting for Talon any longer, the longer we hesitate, the longer we're open to an assault by Templar mercenaries," said one of the cloaked men, revealing a strange sign flashing from his buckle.
"You're right, but we need those weapons today, the Master has large plans for them, and the French Assassins cannot wait any longer!" Exclaimed another, his voice echoing. Leon leaped to the side, a small sound of his leg hitting the ground caught the attention of another one of the men.
"What are your plans for them? I think us American Assassins have earned a straight answer," asked the man, appearing as the leader of their "group."
"It's something not even I know, Jonathan. The master has been fairly quiet about this for some time, all I know of is the French Assassin plans," stated the leader of the second group.
"Then explain Roma, I think I've earned a straight answer for a change," Jonathan responded.
"They're planning to revolt against the estates or something like that, it's something regarding French politics, something which I'd rather not get into," Rome explained. Leon crept closer, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small gun. He watched as the six men did business and peered through a small gap, giving him access to one target. He fired and retreated to the left, the men were quickly startled. "What the hell was that?!" Cried Roma, the remaining five men were stumped. One by one, their numbers dwindled until only Jonathan and Roma were standing.
"Come out and show yourself you Templar scum!" Screamed Jonathan. Leon emerged from the shadows, the steel of his blade shining and his leather boots were soaked due to the water seething through the cracks of the wooden floorboard.
"No. Not Templar, you wanted me to show myself to you and here I stand," Leon said, grinning and readying his blade for a last fight. The two Assassins attack simultaneously, but despite their training and heritage, they both fall to Leon's blade. Leon soon retreated from the area and returned to a small shelter close to another port.
"Maestro, I've interrupted the Assassins weapon transportation, they won't be receiving it for awhile," Leon told an elderly man. The man grinned, his teeth seemed to have rotten overtime and his bloodshot eyes seemed to stare right into the mind of any man. He looked down at his map of Venice and moved some pieces. He pointed to a nearby Merchant stall.
"That is your next task," he said anxiously.
"Who may I ask is my foe?"
The next day at noon, Leon had left to begin his task, he paced himself as he sprinted across the rooftops. Leon crouched at the sight of the marketplace, making sure he's not detected, he scanned around slowly in search of any abnormal activity. His gaze browsed a group of men who were seemingly hiding something from the gaze of anyone and searched for a way to see what was in the Templar's possession. About to get up on his feet and move out, Leon felt two hands forcefully push his back forward. Leon stumbled down onto the ground and was nearing the edge of the building, he looked back and saw a cloaked woman watching him.
"Who are you, stranger?" The cloaked woman asked him.
"I could ask you the same thing, those cloaks don't seem like any type which I have seen," Leon responded curiously.
"My brother was found dead the other morning by the docks, would you know anything about that?" She continued to question.
"How did you know it was me?" Leon said, showing a fairly large grin.
"I saw you escaping, personally, I didn't think I'd find you, but you were my next target in accordance of my mentor, Roshi." The lady answered.
"So you're just another one of us, don't follow either two factions?"
"Yes, though blood is thicker than water and no matter how similar we are, you must pay for what you did, an eye for an eye they say."
"Indeed," Leon focused as the woman reached for her blade and began her assault. Her arsenal of knives began to drive Leon back, his foot clasping off the edge and the one final blow drove him down. Leon's back collided with the roof of a stall and it collapsed on impact. Leon got to his feet and searched for any injured civilians, relieved that nobody was hurt. The suspicious men began to scatter, only one heading north with the object. A chase ensued, the man with the object strapped to his back threw civilians backwards, hoping that they would obstruct the pathway for his foe. Leon leaped over a crate, climbed onto a street lamp and jumped to the rooftop and chased the target from there. The man stopped in his tracks and looked back for his pursuer and found no evidence. He started to walk off into the distant but as he started to look at his feet he noticed a shadow. The man looked up high into the air until he looked down.
Leon sunk his knife into the target's chest. Pushing the target to the ground, Leon looked down to find that the target had sunk his own knife into his pursuer. Sliding out of the target's jacket was a letter and a case filled with a new type of bullet. Leon took the items and returned to the "Maestro."
"Maestro, I've returned from my task and have discovered a letter and what these Templars were hiding." Leon told his "Master," gazing at the bullets curiously.
"Out with it then, Leon," Replied the "Master."
"I found a letter, take a read..."
To Fletcher Norton,
They're after you, the British Assassins are coming, I don't know why and I don't know when. Our men have tried to hold the Italian Assassins at bay but time is running short. Jean Baptiste has developed a new type of bullet and is having it sent in from France in hopes of better arming your guards. They should be arrive on the first of January at the church in Wales.
May the Father of Understanding guide you.
Dated: December 28th, 1788.
"Leon, I've seen you grow up from a boy to a man in so little time, it feels me with joy yet grief. This is our end, I've got nothing left to teach you and this letter indicates where your journey must take you. You've been given two paths," said the "Maestro" with a tear in his eye.
"Fletcher Norton needs to die, but his head is not mine, I'll leave that task to the Assassins. From what I've gathered, they're completely unaware of where Templar artillery is formed and this letter is the answer to that question, my journey is to France. Take care Joseph, you've been like a father to me, more than mine was." Leon said, putting his arms around Joseph.
"I'll get reservations and such ready for your departure, consider it a gift, but before you go, let me ask you something, do you remember what you are?" Asked Joseph calmly.
"Si, I'm neither an Assassin nor Templar, I'm neither good nor evil, I'm neither friend nor foe. I'm one of the people who strives for the best of where he is, who sees the people and everyone like them for who they truly are."
Chapter 2: The Journey
The docks were busy that day, the merchants and such crowded around the port. Leon arrived swiftly, he hid in the shadows, making sure he went by unnoticed.
"Leon Damiens?" A strange and unfamiliar voice questioned him. He didn't turn back, he just nodded quietly.
"Ah, Maestro Trueno told me you weren't much of a speaker," the man responded, his voiced croaked as he spoke. Curious as to the age of the person, Leon turned around and noticed how this person seemed to be fourteen to fifteen years old.
"How do you know Joseph?" Leon asked, gripping the boys shoulder and pulling the boy into the shadows.
"I'm a free-roamer, such as yourself," the boy told him, grinning.
"This is not for you, a boy your a--" Stopping himself in his sentence, his mind drifted to when he was a young teen.
"Maestro, this task is impossible!" Leon screamed, attempting to scale a tower.
"Keep going, just remember, if you fall, you'll die!" Joseph responded, his face showed a smile but something showed a sign of worry.
"That helps and did you know that when it rains, people get wet?" Leon murmured to himself. He continuously climbed out the lighthouse, as he progressed he proceeded to get quicker as he scoured the tower. Once he was at the top, he looked down and saw the shining blue waters sparkling in the Venetian sun. His head began to ache, instinct overcame him and he leapt without fear into the water.
"Misser, misser Leon!" The young teen clicked his fingers between Leon's eyes. Leon shook his head, taking him out of his memory-daze and nodded.
"The Maestro wanted me to tell you to head out to New Brunswick to tell fellow Free-roamer and undercover Assassin about the Assassin's plans in Europe." Leon just continued to nod, once bidding each other fair well, Leon boarded his chartered vessel and waited down in the hold whilst the journey had started.
The boat set sail the following morning, the trip was fairly quiet, Leon just stowed himself away in the cabins with the other passengers whom were just twaddling away with their families and loved ones. This came to an abrupt break when the siren of battle was raised, the children ran around the room; screaming. Leon quickly rushed through the door, sealing it shut with the closest desk; listening to the lady screaming at him to let her out.
"It's for your own good, sit tight!" Leon shouted as he rushed up the steps to the captain of the vessel hastily.
"What's happening?" Leon questioned, tugging on the captain's shirt.
"We don't know, our men are ready but are having so much trouble seeing through this fog, we need someone to climb up to the bow of the ship and be on the lookout," the captain suggested. Leon instantly swiped the Baywatch telescope off the captain's hand and made his way to the bow of the ship. The sound of gunfire was heard; along with the sound of bullets crashing into wood. The shadow of a ship caught Leon's eye, he quickly disposed of the telescope and leaped into the water. He swam for as long as he could until he reach the other ship; he slithered past the three pirates gawking at the cannons, stowing himself behind the barrels and being sure to silently throw any pirate off to sea. Leon scanned through the cargo and found a whole supply of farming equipment; axes included. He pulled out the axe and began chopping at the mast, waiting for it to collapse.
The pirates began to notice the starting tilt of the mast but before their move could be made; it came crashing into the ship. The screams of pirates was a relief to Leon's ears; the screams of civilians however, were not. Leon quickly ventured down into the chambers of the ship, gazing upon several slaves which were not all men.
"Help us please! I'll do anything, just get me out of here!" Screamed the man, he pale white skin gleaming through the midst of the fire mixing with the fog.
"I'll help you, but you people will need to do exactly as I d--" Before Leon could finish, the original ship began to smash into the pirate's. Leon tried all that he could to chop all the ropes, only managing to free around six out of ten, approaching his seventh, the man begged for Leon to save his wife. Leon nodded silently, removing the wife's shackles and grabbing her around her waist whilst flinging her above his shoulders. She kicked and screamed begging for Leon to help her husband but he did not, nor could he. The ship was nearing their location and each one latched onto the sill of the window; the screams of the remaining prisoner's bones breaking beneath the pressure. The woman and Leon went aboard the ship along with the others, she screamed in agony.
"Stop, we can still save him!" She yelled, Leon put one hand on her shoulder.
"There was nothing I could do, I'm sorry." Leon replied solemnly.
"God damnit," she responded quietly as she put her hands on her head and sunk herself into Leon's arms. The ship was in ruins and the people were battered and broken, victory they though but Leon's thought strayed to the victims of the crash.
The ship docked and Leon made his way to the Assassin contact, the fog made it difficult to navigate around the trees close by. Leon scanned around the forest for a sign of where he is, a figure caught his eye; it's large rounded figure and only a glimpse of brown could be seen. It's feet shifted towards Leon's direction and soon it came rushing, Leon stood still until he realized what he was confronting.
"Bear," he said to himself as he evaded the attack and rolled to the right. The snow on the ground made it difficult to move, his hand reached back and pulled out a blade. He swiped at the bear, shifting back as the bear quickly pressed its claws into the leg of Leon. Pressed onto the ground, Leon struggled to move back but he proved no match for the bear as it smacked its claws against the side of Leon's head. His eyes sealed shut and he entered a short slumber.
Chapter 3: The Dream
Leon awoke in a daze, his feet being dragged across the floor of the ice. A man whose hood covered his eyes was dragging him.
Chapter 4: Revolt!
Leon's eyes remained on the man, he throat feeling as if pins were poking through and his head feeling like a bottle had been bashed into it.
"Who are you?" Leon finally worked up the energy to ask.
"No time to answer questions, you're slowly dying here, my cabin is nearby and I may be able to help you," the man responded. Leon felt his forehead for a quick second, noticing the distinct feeling of wetness in his hair, pulling his hand back, he saw the blood on his hands. He eventually rested once more until they arrived at the cabin. He woke up to the sight of a beautiful woman, her eyes as green as grass and her dress as blue as sky.
"Greetings, that was quite a blow you took to the head back there," she said take the wet cloth off of Leon's head. He felt it gently, realizing that no blood was left on it.
"Thank you so much, where's the man who bought me here?" Leon asked politely, the woman looked outside.
"My father's gathering wood, he should be back in an hour or two," the young woman spoke. Leon took a moment to think, he grinned for a slight second.
The father returned and found Leon sound asleep, he clapped his hands as hard as he could. Startled, Leon woke in a daze, his feet swinging over the bed and prepping for action.
"Oh, it's you, thank you for all you've done," Leon said gratefully. The man put clothes on the bed-side table, about to leave, the man looked back quickly.
Leon decided to put on the clothes, he instantly knew what type of garment he was wearing when he noticed the insignia placed onto the buckle of a belt. His weapons had been returned to him and a bow and arrows had been added to his arsenal of weaponry.
"The note..." Leon murmured to himself, scanning around and realizing who this man was. He knew the man was whom he had been looking for all along, he just knew. Before leaving he began to converse with the woman; complimenting her body, speaking about art and talking about the finer things in life. He quickly kissed her lips, before he left he told her one thing and one thing only; "If anything happens, don't let him get involved."
The sun shined brightly, making it easy to find his way back to the docks, he stumbled across a moderately large man, well built for someone as elderly as him.
"My apologies sir," he said as his eyes returned to Leon, his hand forced upon Leon's chest; stopping him in his tracks.
"What is it?" Leon asked, the man was squinting his eyes; examining Leon fairly carefully.
"Aha! You're him, you look alot younger than you used to though!" The man yelled in excitement, raising his fists and preparing for a fight.
"Do I know you? Who do you think I am?" Leon questioned, confused.
"You don't remember me, Robert? It's Jack..." Leon continued with a confused look, shrugging his shoulders.
"Jack Broughton, you of all people should remember me, we used to fight when we were younger!"
"Oh my god, you were younger?" Leon replied, the guy prepared himself for a fist fight, smiling but he stopped in his tracks; hand clutching his heart.
"Jack!" Leon screamed in shock, holding the man up as he fell.
"You look too much like him, Robert-Francois Damiens, remember that name," Jack told Leon, Leon cupped Jack's head in his hand.
"Please, tell me who Robert-Francois is, I need to know!" Leon screamed, his hand waving in the nearest doctor. The people began to crowd around Leon and the fallen Jack.
"A French man, met him in Paris awhile back, you looked too much like him that I couldn't believe he was-- he was--" Jack finally closed his eyes, taking in one last breath.
"He was what? He was what?!" Leon screamed, shaking the dead body. The doctor placed his hands on Leon's shoulder, attempting to calm him down.
"I'm sorry this happened Jack, rest in peace," Leon said, leaving a silver coin on the dead man's heart.
Leon boarded the boat and shipped off safely, his thoughts drifted off to the lady he had met back in New Brunswick, the one name that echoed in his mind.
"Sherry." Leon smiled at the sound, he looked over at the sea and the sun setting. He heard a large clunking noise, he turned his head as he saw a man with a pale of water.
"Je suis désolé mon brave homme, ne signifiait pas pour vous distraire de vos pensées (I'm sorry my good man, didn't mean to distract you from your thoughts)," said the man, lifting up the pale once more, struggling.
"Il est tout à fait bien, avez-vous besoin d'un coup de main? (It's quite alright, do you need a hand?)" Leon replied, the man gazed at Leon with a stunned look.
"Enfin, quelqu'un qui parle français sur ce bateau, mais comment savez-vous comment? (Finally, someone who speaks French on this ship, though how do you know how to?)" The man asked curiously as Leon picked up the pale and followed man.
"Un bon ami à moi m'a appris quand j'étais jeune, a affirmé que les langues sont une des clés de la connaissance, il n'a pas tort. (A good friend of mine taught me when I was young, claimed that languages were a key to knowledge, he's not wrong.)" Leon smiled as he dropped the pale of water to where the man had asked.
"Do you need a bucket, you're looking a little pale there, err... what's your name?" the man said jokingly, chuckling at his pun.
"My name is Leon, yours?"
"My name is Georges but people call me Danton, the pleasure is mine, Leon."
Leon settled in quickly to an inn close by the French harbor, laying down his stuff and giving him a chance to relax for a brief moment. He sat on his bed, feet hanging over the side.
"Can I really make a difference? How? I need answers, but where do I start?" Leon asked himself, his hands clasping into his head.
"You can't make a difference alone, if anything that's what the Assassins and Templars have taught us that can truly see them," a familiar voice told Leon. His gaze focused to the mysterious voice.
"Danton? How do you know about the two factions?" Leon questioned, more confused than he was before.
"My brother was an Assassin, he tried to recruit me to the cause, he's not with us anymore, killed in cold blood by an unknown assailant," Danton said, pulling his head away a little.
"Well, what do you suggest we do then Danton? Two people alone can't make a difference, you know who proved opposite?" Leon asked, staring at Danton dead in the eyes.
"Whom?" He responded.
"Nobody, it hasn't been done, so answer me, what do you suggest we do?" Leon questioned, throwing his blade on the table.
"We need to establish a kind of "collective" if you will. A certain type of underground where we can keep track of people around Paris," Danton said grinning, his eyes glaring out the window.
"Hm, seems like an interesting idea, we could get new members, but how would we go by unnoticed? A large distraction would be in order. Another question is where do we start?"
"To know our enemies, we must become one with them. You'll be dealing with Assassin affairs, it's up to you on how you do it and as for myself; I'll go deal with the Templars and we'll report back here April 23rd." Danton answered, walking out of the door.
Leon had no idea on where to start, his attention focusing on shadows and his coat shrouding his blade. The crowd was loud and music was blasting from buskers on the street; his eyes focused towards a shady-looking man whose attire was a brown trench-coat and hat which, on a tilt, covered his eyes. Leon looked for any indication of an Assassin within the man, nothing. He must be good, thought Leon but he spoke too soon as an echoing sound of a pistol was heard. The supposed Assassin collapsed to the ground and the real one showed himself, his hood covering his head and shading his eyes.
"I heard you were looking for us, Leon, why?" The Assassin yelled.
"I seek answers!" Leon replied, civilians down on the ground in fear and shop-keepers hiding in their stalls.
"You shall not get what you seek, you cannot comprehend the truth, nobody can!" The Assassin proceeded to shout, reaching for his pistol and preparing to fire. Leon leaped behind an innocent bystander, reached for his blade and hurled it into the air. The knife collided with the firearm and sent it venturing out of the Assassin's hand. Breaking his arm away from blocking his face, he found Leon had disappeared until he felt two hands grab his head and forcefully snap his neck. Stripping the Assassin down to his briefs, Leon escaped the scene and returned to his home. Placing himself in the Assassin's garb. He pulled out a note hidden within a pocket of the coat, he strapped on his weapons including; the 2 Hidden Blades, a Bow and a pistol strapped to his thigh. His eye gazed upon a note, it showed him the location of a next meeting of the order within the bridge next to the Sienne River. Leon set off on his journey and had made it safely to his destination.
The sound of laughter had crowded the place, conversation and chatter could be heard from the other side of town but it all went quiet.
"Brothers and sisters, we stand together to discuss our plans for the standing months and have come to a decision on Louis' fate. He will die, though he seems to be one step ahead of us, he's gotten a list of every single one of us. Luckily we've acquired this list and would like to see if anybody has been missed. If someone has, their task will be simple. Kill the king." Said a man, appearing as their leader. They proceeded to list out names, by the end of it, only one person remained.
"You, I don't recognize you, what's your name?" Asked the leader, staring Leon right in the eye. He gazed up and quickly remembered what Jack Broughton had told him.
"Robert-Francois Damien," Leon said, pulling his hood down.
"That's impossible, you were sent away, we were not informed of your return, Robert, when did you return?" Asked the leader curiously.
"Just a couple days ago master," Leon replied, standing still.
"Please, you should not call me master, it's Pierre, things have changed since Mentor Casanova departed."
"Alright then, Pierre," Leon said, nodding in agreement. The group then dispatched into their own groups and conversed. Pierre signaled for Leon to follow him into his office, and so he followed him through a secret entrance. The two went down a flight of stairs, the dim lighting illuminating from the candles provided a good enough light source. Entering the office, Leon closed the door behind me and soon Pierre drew a gun from his coat.
"Who are you really?" He asked, frowning.
"I told you, I'm Robert," Leon replied calmly, pulling the gun out of its holder.
"Robert's gone for good, he was banished years ago, Sanson himself oversaw it," Pierre said, readying himself to pull the trigger.
"If you must know, my name is Leon Damien, I don't know if there's any connection to Robert, it's probable. Most likely actually. But that's not a concern in this case, the concern is; are you going to pull the trigger or not?" Leon said, readying to fire.
"Not yet, why are you here? Last I heard your father ditched you with an Italian man and you were never heard from again, so I'll ask you once more, why are you here?" Pierre continued, holding his gun steadily.
"I'm here seeking answers, why are you planning to kill King Louis?" Leon asked.
"He's a Templar and a tyrant, not worthy of the title, our plan is to infiltrate his home and slice him then and there!" Pierre exclaimed.
"Being a Templar should not be a valid reason, this squabble between you two is pathetic!" Leon yelled, slamming his fist down onto the table.
"If it wasn't for us Assassins, then we'd be controlled and minions to them for their goals!" Pierre tried to explain, seemingly losing belief in his words.
"But world needs some form of discipline, that's why we have leaders, you too have a leader. You two say you strive for peace but you're unintentionally leading the thing you're striving for into chaos!" Leon told him, his voice became calm as he spoke. Knowing he was winning.
"You're wrong, we can win this, we know we can! We just need to find the way to achieving this goal, it's been said that Robert's father wielding something that could help us but he was killed the night after he hid it. We don't know where he's put it!" Pierre said, his grip on the gun began to loosen.
"You have no clue where it is? That's not helping your case, you're both wrong! You're intentions are good but you're methods are immoral and wrong." Leon told Pierre, putting his gun on the table.
"We do this for the greater good!" Pierre responded throwing his firearm into the bookshelf. Luckily not triggering the pistol.
"You kill whomever you think has done wrong and speak as if it's for the greater good, what if you're wrong? This afternoon, the man who originally wore this uniform tried to shoot me down with bystanders nearby." Leon kept persisting on the argument but Pierre seemed he had finished.
"I'm done arguing, what's done is done and this is now, you may not share our motive but I know you share our goals, so what would you have us do?" Pierre said, his face red and panting heavily.
"Ideas have been running through my head all day and one struck my mind," Leon said smiling.
Chapter 5: The Attack
Leon had made a return to the Inn and discovered Danton wandering around vigorously, hands stroking through his hair. His attention averted towards Leon, grabbing a musket off the bed.
"I take it you've got bad news, you were unsuccessful?" Leon asked curiously, worried about the state of his friend.
"No, I was successful but you've got to hurry back to the Assassin hideout, they're going to slaughter them!" Danton exclaimed, tossing the musket into Leon's hand.
"A gun? I'm more accurate with a bow, Danton, throw me that also," Leon said extending his hand as Danton passed him a bow and some arrows. Leon nodded as he launched himself out of the nearby window, gripping the nearby line of clothes and gliding to the next rooftop. The sound of his feet smashing down on the ground as he sprinted echoed, drawing attention to himself and allowing him to use this to his advantage. Guards were quick to lose him among the dazed crowd and soon he continued his march. Opening the door, Leon charged around the hideout, hearing the sound of swords clashing, he looked down from the balcony area, gripping his bow and an arrow, ready to fire.
The arrow smacked into one of the enemy's chest, the force pushed him down and soon he bled to death. Leon leaped down from the balcony, unsheathing his blade; he launched it into the heart of one guard and slit the throat of another. Countering everything his opponents had on him, each one fell to their blade. Leon panted, gripping his knees and trying to gain some breath. He rushed into a nearby room, he heard sobbing and investigated. He noticed a tall dark-skinned man, moping over the body of a fallen man.
"Are you okay?" Leon asked, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.
"He died to save me, they killed my beloved!" The man shouted, reaching for his cane and picking himself up.
"I'm sorry for your loss, what's your name?" Leon asked, the man proceeded to limp to a table.
"Ezekiel, my name is Ezekiel," he said, throwing the papers off the desk.
"So this man..." Leon said, confused.
"Was my love, yes, are you one to have a problem with that?" Ezekiel asked, staring at Leon angrily.
"No, nothing's wrong with that, you're human just like the rest of us!" Leon said, his attention focused on Pierre who had walked in with 7 other Assassins, their garbs stained with blood and injured.
"How did you get that injury, Ezekiel?" Leon questioned one more time.
"I took a bullet for Boyeuir here, I guess he thought he owed me the favor," Ezekiel answered, placing the body on the table.
"Rest easy now, they're defeated this day," Leon began to face Pierre and continued, "Yous won't win, I hope you people have learned that, they've got money, resources and the law to hold against you, if you guys aren't around then this Revolution cannot go into tuition, stay in the underground areas until I signal you guys to come out of hiding once more."
"What are you planning, Leon? How did you know they were going to be here?" Pierre asked, suspiciously.
"This is one thing you need to trust me with, Pierre," Leon said, exiting the hideout.
Chapter 6: Start Of Something Special
The following weeks were restless, Danton and Leon had set up a hideout directly beneath the River Sienne which connected to the Assassins hideout and the route lead to the Bastille which allowed them to escape. Danton had focused on members, locating a few dozen people whom chose to remain, he returned one afternoon with 5 people; 3 men and 2 women.
"Leon, welcome these 5 to the collective," Danton said smiling.
"I want names before anyone joins," Leon responded harshly, glaring at the 5.
"This is Pierre Pompadu, a renowned stalker yes but he's very good with stealth and eavesdropping! He's only been caught once, do you want to know who by?" Danton asked laughing, showing off Pierre. A small figure but quick and cunning, Leon didn't let Pierre's attire of rags and scruffed brown hair fool him, he knew Pierre was somewhat wealthy.
"What for?" Leon asked prominently.
"The lady he was watching, was the wife of a Templar, the father noticed him and caught his arm and he tried to escape. Wonderful times! Now, these two ladies are Nidea and Stylo; former Assassins and beloved housew--" Danton stopped for a second to laugh, almost falling to the floor and soon continue. "Beloved neighborhood sluts is more like it, but we'll get onto that topic some other time. Now this man right here is the town-drunk, but he's loved by all and not even the strongest of machines can silence him; I'm talking about Pierre Topporse Badassau of course! Now, this silent man right here is an Italian whom moved to France in hopes of finding some mythical location or something, something to do with black people, this man is Giovanni D'Abruzzo. He used to be a Templar but then the people he thought he could trust betrayed him and now he's been on the run since."
Leon's attention drew to the two ladies; busty young red-heads whom wore skirts which showed off more leg than guys could handle. He snapped himself out of the daze and noticed Topporse whom was grinning while looking at the two ladies. Then there was Giovanni, large built man whom seemed more like a hired-thug than a brain but Leon has been wrong about these types of things before. They all dispatched and began to create maps and such, Nidea and Stylo looked at each other carefully.
"Next time you're out there be careful, you could've gotten us killed!" Stylo exclaimed, tending to Nidea's wound on her arm.
"I know I'm sorry, are you mad?" Nidea asked, gazing at Stylo warmly.
"How could I be mad at you? I love you to pieces!" Stylo said, kissing Nidea lovingly. Pierre dropped the crate he was carrying and Topporse drew all over his map; their attention gazed towards the two. Only one thing was said by the two.
"So, you're a stalker?" Leon asked, looking at Pierre.
"Not exactly, I'm a professional information seeker with time to spare so he checks on women," Pierre said sarcastically, Leon stared at Pierre cynically. "Their faults for leaving their blinds open and their doors unlocked."
"So, Danton said you've been caught only once, what happened?" Leon questioned.
"It was a load of crap, I lagged out!" Pierre exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table.
"Lag?" Leon asked confusingly.
"I spaced out."
France, Circa 1782
It was a fine sunny day, people were cheering and laughing in the marketplace. As for me; one man was in my gaze and that man was Jacque Nepol. He evacuated the premises when I threw a small smoke bomb to draw attention away before I struck but he got away. I leaped up the stalls and made my way through the smoke and jumped out. I took a left and climbed the nearest building; jumping from rooftop to rooftop and leaping through a tree which was in the shape of a capital "Y". So I continued and found him at his home, I scaled the tree and saw the most amazing sight. His wife's breasts, they were majestic-- Oh, you probably don't want to hear about that.
Anyway, I spaced out, my foot lost it's grip and I almost fell. All that stopped me was a weak branch but that's not the worst part, the woman shrieked and her husband came charging in. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up, his foot proceeded to bash into me. I got out of a small secluded prison 6 months later, I had 6 months for doing nothing except my job. What a load of shit.
Pierre stormed off and continued to focus on his work on the drawing board of Templar/Assassin locations. Leon's next stop was Topporse whom began to tell his story.
France, Circa 1776
Ah, you probably want to know who I am? Well, people call me Topporse. It's part of my name and because I'm one for prostitution, sue me. How did I get to this position? I'm a hired thug, a mercenary and so on. Nobody will ever suspect me of being apart of whatever the hell you'd call this. What got me out of thug work? This dame I laid asked me to kill her husband so we could run off together in the sunset. She'd read about this sort of stuff in a novel of sorts, said I could be her "Ezio" and she could be my "Sofia." Crazy bitch, anyway, I kill the husband but then she gets angry and tries to cut me. Turns out that was her sister and her sister's husband. I take the knife from the sister and she's impressed with my strength, she looks at my lustfull--
"I get the picture, thank you Topporse," Leon said, backing away slowly.
"I really should write a book, be better than that shit novel!" Topporse yelled. Leon approached Nidea and Stylo carefully, whom were focusing on designs for how the hideout could be improved.
"How did that happen?"
Italy, Circa 1789
We were working in a local brothel, pleasuring men, waiting for when he entered. A Templar by the name of Joseph Squile had approached us and asked for a quickie and so, we started to try and pleasure him. When he wasn't looking, Stylo reached for her knife and I kept my gun out, she ran in front of him as an attempt to kill him but she got the better of her and did some things to her. He cut her arm with her knife and made me watch, it was horrible! She was in the way and so, she got down to her knees as a ploy and I shot him. We escaped and found Danton whom took us here.
"So you're not really whores?" Leon asked curiously.
"No, we only love each other and will only touch each other, nobody else," Nidea told Leon, Topporse looked at them and grinned.
I will make them change their minds, he thought to himself as Leon visited one last member who kept laying his fists into a punching bag.
Italy, Circa 1754
The blood of my latest victim had stained my hands, my coat was drenched in his blood as my sword repeatedly smashed into his chest. I figured that would be my last target for awhile now, I was wrong! A man approached, my cousin Giordnano, he had his blade drawn. I asked him what he was doing here, but he merely responded with swipe at me with his blade. I pleaded to him to stop but he kept swinging, I reached for my blade and knocked his back and attempted for a stab at his chest but his sword pushed onto mine and his foot planted deep into my chest. I swung my foot down and dropped him to the ground, in the blink of an eye my blade was in his chest and he was coughing blood. The last words he said were:
"They betrayed you."
I returned to the meeting place, the guard at the door halting me and telling me I'm not permitted to enter. I pushed him out of the way and entered the dimly lit room anyway.
"You're still alive, Giovanni?" Asked my mentor, Semi Chi.
"So it's true! Why? I've done so much for the order yet you sold me out! What was it for? Money? Women?!" I shouted. "Answer me!"
"You're a threat to our order, on the verge of exposing it just because of how you go about. I was asked to have you killed and I agreed to the profit he would give me for your death," Semi said, knowing how infuriated I had become. I pulled my blade out of its scabbard.
"I'll kill you you fucker!" I shouted as I dueled with the one person I thought I could trust, the clash of steel blades could be heard throughout the town. Guards came rushing in, I tried to fight it but it was pointless, Semi had grabbed me by my collar and had tossed me out the window. Shattered glass delving into my skin as it went deeper while rolling down a hill, my back smacked against and stone wall. My eyes started to close but I saw a man, he looked just like you, Leon, whom dragged me somewhere. When I awoke, he was watching me and seemed relieved that I was okay. He was an Assassin who had helped me, a Templar.
"Why did you help me?" I asked him, he laughed.
"You needed help, I made a promise to myself to help when help is needed," He told me, I looked at him carefully but he didn't move. He just stared at me calmly and smiled.
"A promise?" I questioned.
"When I was young, my father was murdered my Templars like yourself, I felt so helpless I made a vow to help those in need," he replied.
"But you're an Assassin, you kill people?" I responded, it had confused me that response, I never agreed with their motives.
"I was recruited a couple months ago, I saw it as an opportunity to help others, sure it seemed far-fetched at first but it was my chance to live up to my vow and so they told me to kill a man." He answered, his face reeked of uncertainty.
"And? Do you regret it?" I asked, he pulled back abit.
"He was going to expose the order, but I can't help but think that there could have been another way, he didn't need to die but the Mentor Casanova is a bloodthirsty man and kills without hesitation," He responded, I decided to leave him alone. He had healed me and I was grateful but they were functioning over a blood-thirsty tyrant. I couldn't be apart of that.
During the midst of night, Leon found himself tossing in his sleep and soon found himself wandering the streets aimlessly. He stopped at a bridge extending over the River Seine and leaned over the railing, gazing at his reflection in the river.
"Cold night isn't it?" A man asked, standing beside Leon.
"I suppose, the people here will never change you know, all the bloodshed in the street and the murderers walking away with what they've done" Leon said.
"I know what you mean, I had a son long ago whom I had to leave," the man said.
"Father?" Leon asked turning around to find nobody beside him. "Must have been an illusion, but it seemed to real."
"We all told you our stories but you never explained yours, what's your story?" Asked Giovanni as he approached Leon.
"I guess you've earned an explanation about me, my father was murdered a long time ago but he gave me away to an Italian family when I was just a boy. I then studied the art of violence with Master Joseph who revealed to me his true intentions of my training, to turn me into someone who opposes the Assassins and Templars. That's all I'm willing to reveal at this time," Leon replied, feeling his heart beat through his chest.
"One more question, how is peace achieved through us killing others?" Giovannii asks.
"I do not believe that we kill them, I believe we're the instruments to which they kill themselves."
Chapter 7: How Is Peace Achieved Through Death?
Danton had been busy over the previous months, the Tennis Court Oath had been produced but while all this was occurring, Leon had been planning what he had to do next. A map, spread across the wall, pinpointed several camps outside of Paris where Parisian guards were located.
"Have you figured it out yet?" Topporse asked, browsing the map.
"We'll not emerge into the public just yet, for now there are several guard camps set up outside the city which need to disappear. Get it done," Leon uttered, ripping the map from the wall and handing it to Topporse.
"And what will you do?" Topporse questioned.
"I have to speak to Danton, don't question my tasks, just get it done!" Leon barked, putting on his attire and leaving the underground with haste.
"Danton," Leon yelled as he rushed up to his ally.
"Oh, hello Leon," Danton responded while gazing out at the city of Paris. "It's beautiful, is it not? It's a shame it is ruled by such a fool, what have you learned?"
"I've spent months working on out a plan of action and the pieces are finally in place. The Bastille is housing 7 civilian prisoners but little does the public know that there are 54 Assassin prisoners inside. If we storm the Bastille and take the prisoners inside back to the Assassins, the Templars will be under the belief that the Assassins are responsible which will give me time to swoop in and make a kill on Louis. This will also incite the start of a revolution should I fail." Leon said with a huge grin concealing his face.
"You've seem to have spent a fair amount of time on this plan but you have another issue with the Bastille also. We've located someone in there whom you may want to see, your father." Danton told Leon.
"That's impossible, my father's dead, I remember reading it in the papers!" Leon yelled in frustration.
"This is what my sources have told me, Leon, they may be wrong but there's a 90% chance that they're right!" Danton argued.
"And what if they are? This man abandoned me for all these years and left me to fend for myself! He gave me away, and why? Why would someone give their own flesh and blood to complete strangers?!" Leon shouted, throwing his fist into the wooden railing out of anger.
"Perhaps you could ask him," Danton calmly responded.
"He should rot in that cell, I won't do it!"
"This is not the time to be unreasonable, Leon! France will soon be in revolution and if your father was twice the man the Templars say he his then he is who we need!"
"I refuse to believe that my father, such a great man as you say, is who we need! If he was so great then why did he ditch his only child? Am I his only child is a better question!"
"You don't have to rescue him then but just remember, this may be your only chance at receiving answers, do you really want to waste that?"
"Oh, I will get my answers and if I see them unreasonable, I will kill him. I will make him pay for all the years I've wasted believing he was dead, this I swear!"
Leon browsed the stone walls of the Bastille, the elegant patterns lining the wall and the guards watching across from the walls.
"This is where it begins?" Leon asked, directing his attention to Danton.
"Yes my good friend, this is where it begins!" Danton exclaimed, his face lit with joy. The march of tens of thousands of men roared throughout the streets of Paris.
"So what happens now?" Leon questioned.
"You have a limited amount of time to go in and scan for your father, so you better get moving!" Danton responded, directing Leon to the gate.
"An easy climb," Leon grinned as he scaled the gate and entered the prison. He slid past the guards and found himself in an inner courtyard area just by the inner gate. Leon flung himself to the left and smacked his elbow into one of the windows to create an opening, lucky to have had nobody hear it. He explored the prison for a few minutes, avoiding detection but was interrupted by the sound of a triggered alarm ringing through his ears.
"The Bastille is under attack!" A guard had screamed before feeling the force of a muskets bullet strike him in between the eyes.
"Burn it!" A civilian screamed as fires broke out all over the prison. Cannons flew through the walls as Leon began to pick up the pace, charging up as many stairs as he could and leaping over railing to another. Whilst charging up to a close railing, and flinging himself over in the process, a cannon had smashed through the roof and had thrown Leon off course onto the base floor.
"Help!" A voice screamed, Leon looked to his right and found a woman pinned against the bars.
"I'm looking for a man, can you help me find him?" Leon asked, trying to grasp as much breath as he possibly could.
"If you let me out of here mister, I'll give you anything you want!" The woman exclaimed, Leon honored the agreement and freed the woman.
"Can you tell me where Robert is?" Leon requested.
"A man by that name is in Cell Block C Row F 24!" The woman answered, running out of the prison while screaming. Leon charged through the cells but not before hearing the sound of a familiar voice.
"Come on, we need to find the Assassin prisoners!" A voice had said but Leon was to content on finding his father and receiving his answers. Upon arrival at the Cell Block, he found nothing but an empty cell with markings across the walls and what appeared to be small text.
- "I never wanted to be apart of this, I just wanted to do what was right by my father but all I got was a big knife in the back but why? Why does one go ahead and do this to their own? I don't understand why a person would do such a thing to their fellow man? I just wanted to live by the vow I made when my father died, I just wanted to make him proud and avenge him but it seems I cannot, goodbye to those I had once called brothers"
- ―Robert-Francois Damiens - 1754
Leon, about to depart from the cell, had felt the smack of a blade strike his leg and a hand push him down to the ground. The figure remained to be unseen, Leon striking several blows to his head and eventually being able to see his new adversary.
"D... Danton..." Leon said slowly, spitting the blood from his mouth.
"Ah, now he gets it!" Danton exclaimed excitedly, clasping his two hands together.
"But why?" Leon asked, trying to retain his vision.
"Why? Why other than money? Do you not see a resemblance between all these people? They're criminals, they have bounties on their heads and they can make me a fortune! You've done your part, Leon. You're no longer needed in this operation and with you out of the picture, France will flourish once more!" Danton yelled.
"How do I affect France and how it flourishes?" Leon questioned in anger, his tone of voice begun to rise.
"You're opposition to the Assassins will be the downfall of the revolution my beautiful France needs! I cannot have you destroying the operation, so I leave you here to die with the rotten scoundrels of this prison," Danton replied.
"Wait, one more question, my father, is he--" Leon responded, collapsing to the ground fully.
"We're not sure whether or not your father is dead or alive, it's unsure if it has been a coverup or not," Danton answered walking away with Leon's battered on the ground of the Bastille.
Troops swarmed in on Danton's command, all that echoed through France's streets were the screams of the men who once hoped to form a collective of sorts. The idea remained in the sewers of France which Danton had planned to block up but never went to tuition.
- "In order to conquer, what we need is to dare, still to dare, and always to dare."
- ―Georges Jacques Danton