Other Fan Fiction ❯ Assassin's Creed Walkthrough ❯ Chapter 2
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: marriedmiko 
Altaïr reports back to Masyaf.
Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 06.20.2012 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 245 | Status: Completed
Altaïr reports back to Masyaf.
Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 06.20.2012 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 245 | Status: Completed
Story and characters are property of Ubisoft. I’m not using this to make money, just to help explain the story to my non-gamer friends and family.
Altaïr stood in a public square with a tree and a fountain at its center. People bustled about their business, and a man sat on the fountain's edge, watching. When he caught sight of Altaïr, he jumped up.
"Altaïr, you've returned!" he called.
"Raouf." Altaïr was considerably less enthusiastic in his greeting.
"It is good to see you unharmed," Raouf said seriously. "I trust your mission was a success?"
Altaïr looked away. "Is the Master in his tower?" he asked instead.
"Yes, yes, buried in his books, as always," Raouf joked. "No doubt he expects you."
"My thanks, brother." Altaïr bowed briefly.
"Safety and peace, Altaïr." Raouf offered.
"And you as well," Altaïr returned, and then went on his way. He passed through the square and then up a steep roadway, passing many people on his way. A few of them gave him curious looks, but most seemed accustomed to the sight of assassins running about.
As he reached the top of the hill, he looked up at the massive structure crowning it: Masyaf. It was an impressive collection of towers, crenellations, and domed tops, banners flying from every peak. Three sides of the mountain fell away in steep cliffs, and the fourth held only this narrow switchback road, easily defensible and constantly guarded. The approach made many feel small and insignificant. This effect was lost on Altaïr. To him it was home.
At the gates, a man stood leaning against the wall, waiting for him. "Ah," he said when Altaïr arrived, and stood up straight. "He returns at last."
"Abbas," Altaïr said darkly.
Abbas glanced over Altaïr's shoulder meaningfully. "Where are the others? Did you ride ahead hoping to be the first one back?"
Altaïr tried to move past him, but Abbas moved to block his way.
"I know you loathe to share the glory," he continued.
Altaïr merely stared at him, waiting for him to be done.
"Silence is just another form of assent," Abbas sneered.
"Have you nothing better to do?" Altaïr tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice.
Abbas smiled a little, unkindly. "I bring word from the Master. He waits for you in the library. Best hurry," he leaned forward, "no doubt you're eager to put your tongue to his boot!"
"Another word and I'll put my blade to your throat," warned Altaïr.
Abbas rolled his eyes. "There'll be plenty of time for that later," he assured him, and went back to leaning against the massive base of the gate.
Altaïr continued on hurriedly. Abbas never failed to get a rise out of him. He passed into the main courtyard and up the ramps to the side. Once inside the majestic great hall, the air cooled noticeably. It was a place of beauty, with wide sturdy square pillars and a grand staircase that led up to a door flanked by two windows. All three were decorated with wrought iron scrollwork. There, the staircase split in two and continued up to two parallel galleries. There were shelves with books, and desks with writing tools, and Persian rugs scattered around on the floor. At the front of the building, the two galleries rejoined, forming a large study directly above the entrance. The space was illuminated by another peaked window filled with beautifully worked leaded clear glass.
Here Altaïr found the master, perusing one of the two tall bookshelves that flanked his desk.
He turned as soon as Altaïr approached. He may be old, Altaïr thought, but he's still an assassin.
"Altaïr," the Master walked to his desk.
"Master," Altaïr bowed deferentially.
"Come forward," he ordered kindly. "Tell me of your mission."
Altaïr stayed where he was, unsure of how to explain this. It was rare that he felt embarrassed, but faced with the stern presence of the Master, he felt at a loss for words.
"I trust you recovered the Templars' treasure." It was not a question.
"There was some trouble, Master," Altaïr began uncertainly. "Robert de Sablé was not alone."
"When does our work ever go as expected?" the Master said kindly. "It's our ability to adapt that makes us who we are."
"This time it was not enough." Altaïr began to pace in front of the desk.
The Master frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I have failed you." Altair could not meet the Master's gaze, and instead studied one of the banners that hung from the bookshelves.
"The treasure?" The Master sounded concerned for the first time. He left his post behind his desk and came to face Altaïr.
"Lost to us."
"And Robert?"
"Escaped." Altaïr pronounced the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
The Master's voice dropped in quiet anger. "I send you, my best man, to complete a mission more important than any that has come before, and you return to me with nothing but apologies and excuses!" His voice began to grow in volume and acidity.
"I did--"
"Do not speak!" The Master raised a hand to silence him. "Not another word!" He breathed heavily for a moment, but then seemed to deflate. He paced away and spoke quietly. "This is not what I expected. We'll need to mount another force." He turned to face Altaïr again.
"I swear to you I'll find him!" Altaïr said with renewed conviction. "I'll go and--"
"No! You'll do nothing," the Master chided. "You've done enough!"
Altaïr stayed put, cowed, while the Master seemed to think of something. "Where are Malek and Kedarr?"
"Dead," Altaïr said quietly.
"No!" Called a voice from behind. The tall assassin, his robe stained with blood, climbed the stairs while clutching his injured side. "Not dead."
"Malek," the Master was aghast to see him in this condition.
"I still live at least!" Malek was clearly angry as he limped down the gallery.
"And your brother?" the Master asked.
"Gone. Because of you!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger in Altaïr's face.
"Robert threw me from the room!" Altaïr argued. "There was no way back, nothing I could do!"
"Because you would not heed my warnings!" Malek shouted. "All of this could have been avoided! And my brother... my brother would still be alive!" He breathed deeply, and seemed to calm to a seething anger. "Your arrogance nearly cost us a victory today."
"Nearly?" The master was surprised.
"I've what your favored failed to find," Malek sneered. "Here, take it."
He gestured, and an assassin with a veiled face came forward with the sphere from atop the chest cradled in an ornate base.
"Though it seems I've returned with more than just their treasure," Malek said ruefully.
"Master!" Another masked assassin bolted up the stairs and down the gallery towards them. "We are under attack! Robert de Sable has sieged Masyaf's village."
"So, he seeks a battle," the Master crowed. "Well, I'll not deny him. Go, inform the others," he instructed the messenger. "The fortress must be prepared."
The messenger left, and the Master turned slowly to face Altaïr, who was trying unsuccessfully to leave without being noticed.
"As for you, Altaïr, our discussion will have to wait. You must make for the village. Destroy these invaders. Drive them from our home!" It was clear that he held Altaïr responsible for their presence.
Outside the fortress, chaos reigned. Assassins ran down the road, hurrying into position, as frightened villagers clambered up in the opposite direction, seeking shelter.
Raouf met Altaïr as he passed through the gates. "Altaïr, it's good you've come. We need your help," He gestured to a couple young assassins who had followed him.
"What's happened?"
"Templars." The word alone spoke volumes. "They attacked the village," Raouf pointed back down the road. "Most of our people were able to get away. Most, but not all."
"What do you need me to do?" Altaïr asked quickly.
"Distract the Templars," Raouf offered. "Keep them occupied while I rescue those still trapped inside.
"As you wish," he said with a certain relish, and ran to do just that.
END NOTES:
Slightly longer chapter today. Not the best stopping point, but didn't want it to drag on too long, and that's where the walkthrough video from the series I'm using ended, so it seems as good as any other.
A note on names: I have never seen this game played before, and I'm not terribly familiar with all of the names. The walkthrough I'm watching doesn't use subtitles, so I have to guess by the sound as to the spelling; thus my major fail of calling Robert de Sable "Robert de Salle." I really should know better, since I speak French, but whatever. If you see that I have misspelled a name (or got it completely wrong) please tell me. I'll be more than happy to fix it.
Altaïr stood in a public square with a tree and a fountain at its center. People bustled about their business, and a man sat on the fountain's edge, watching. When he caught sight of Altaïr, he jumped up.
"Altaïr, you've returned!" he called.
"Raouf." Altaïr was considerably less enthusiastic in his greeting.
"It is good to see you unharmed," Raouf said seriously. "I trust your mission was a success?"
Altaïr looked away. "Is the Master in his tower?" he asked instead.
"Yes, yes, buried in his books, as always," Raouf joked. "No doubt he expects you."
"My thanks, brother." Altaïr bowed briefly.
"Safety and peace, Altaïr." Raouf offered.
"And you as well," Altaïr returned, and then went on his way. He passed through the square and then up a steep roadway, passing many people on his way. A few of them gave him curious looks, but most seemed accustomed to the sight of assassins running about.
As he reached the top of the hill, he looked up at the massive structure crowning it: Masyaf. It was an impressive collection of towers, crenellations, and domed tops, banners flying from every peak. Three sides of the mountain fell away in steep cliffs, and the fourth held only this narrow switchback road, easily defensible and constantly guarded. The approach made many feel small and insignificant. This effect was lost on Altaïr. To him it was home.
At the gates, a man stood leaning against the wall, waiting for him. "Ah," he said when Altaïr arrived, and stood up straight. "He returns at last."
"Abbas," Altaïr said darkly.
Abbas glanced over Altaïr's shoulder meaningfully. "Where are the others? Did you ride ahead hoping to be the first one back?"
Altaïr tried to move past him, but Abbas moved to block his way.
"I know you loathe to share the glory," he continued.
Altaïr merely stared at him, waiting for him to be done.
"Silence is just another form of assent," Abbas sneered.
"Have you nothing better to do?" Altaïr tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice.
Abbas smiled a little, unkindly. "I bring word from the Master. He waits for you in the library. Best hurry," he leaned forward, "no doubt you're eager to put your tongue to his boot!"
"Another word and I'll put my blade to your throat," warned Altaïr.
Abbas rolled his eyes. "There'll be plenty of time for that later," he assured him, and went back to leaning against the massive base of the gate.
Altaïr continued on hurriedly. Abbas never failed to get a rise out of him. He passed into the main courtyard and up the ramps to the side. Once inside the majestic great hall, the air cooled noticeably. It was a place of beauty, with wide sturdy square pillars and a grand staircase that led up to a door flanked by two windows. All three were decorated with wrought iron scrollwork. There, the staircase split in two and continued up to two parallel galleries. There were shelves with books, and desks with writing tools, and Persian rugs scattered around on the floor. At the front of the building, the two galleries rejoined, forming a large study directly above the entrance. The space was illuminated by another peaked window filled with beautifully worked leaded clear glass.
Here Altaïr found the master, perusing one of the two tall bookshelves that flanked his desk.
He turned as soon as Altaïr approached. He may be old, Altaïr thought, but he's still an assassin.
"Altaïr," the Master walked to his desk.
"Master," Altaïr bowed deferentially.
"Come forward," he ordered kindly. "Tell me of your mission."
Altaïr stayed where he was, unsure of how to explain this. It was rare that he felt embarrassed, but faced with the stern presence of the Master, he felt at a loss for words.
"I trust you recovered the Templars' treasure." It was not a question.
"There was some trouble, Master," Altaïr began uncertainly. "Robert de Sablé was not alone."
"When does our work ever go as expected?" the Master said kindly. "It's our ability to adapt that makes us who we are."
"This time it was not enough." Altaïr began to pace in front of the desk.
The Master frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I have failed you." Altair could not meet the Master's gaze, and instead studied one of the banners that hung from the bookshelves.
"The treasure?" The Master sounded concerned for the first time. He left his post behind his desk and came to face Altaïr.
"Lost to us."
"And Robert?"
"Escaped." Altaïr pronounced the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
The Master's voice dropped in quiet anger. "I send you, my best man, to complete a mission more important than any that has come before, and you return to me with nothing but apologies and excuses!" His voice began to grow in volume and acidity.
"I did--"
"Do not speak!" The Master raised a hand to silence him. "Not another word!" He breathed heavily for a moment, but then seemed to deflate. He paced away and spoke quietly. "This is not what I expected. We'll need to mount another force." He turned to face Altaïr again.
"I swear to you I'll find him!" Altaïr said with renewed conviction. "I'll go and--"
"No! You'll do nothing," the Master chided. "You've done enough!"
Altaïr stayed put, cowed, while the Master seemed to think of something. "Where are Malek and Kedarr?"
"Dead," Altaïr said quietly.
"No!" Called a voice from behind. The tall assassin, his robe stained with blood, climbed the stairs while clutching his injured side. "Not dead."
"Malek," the Master was aghast to see him in this condition.
"I still live at least!" Malek was clearly angry as he limped down the gallery.
"And your brother?" the Master asked.
"Gone. Because of you!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger in Altaïr's face.
"Robert threw me from the room!" Altaïr argued. "There was no way back, nothing I could do!"
"Because you would not heed my warnings!" Malek shouted. "All of this could have been avoided! And my brother... my brother would still be alive!" He breathed deeply, and seemed to calm to a seething anger. "Your arrogance nearly cost us a victory today."
"Nearly?" The master was surprised.
"I've what your favored failed to find," Malek sneered. "Here, take it."
He gestured, and an assassin with a veiled face came forward with the sphere from atop the chest cradled in an ornate base.
"Though it seems I've returned with more than just their treasure," Malek said ruefully.
"Master!" Another masked assassin bolted up the stairs and down the gallery towards them. "We are under attack! Robert de Sable has sieged Masyaf's village."
"So, he seeks a battle," the Master crowed. "Well, I'll not deny him. Go, inform the others," he instructed the messenger. "The fortress must be prepared."
The messenger left, and the Master turned slowly to face Altaïr, who was trying unsuccessfully to leave without being noticed.
"As for you, Altaïr, our discussion will have to wait. You must make for the village. Destroy these invaders. Drive them from our home!" It was clear that he held Altaïr responsible for their presence.
Outside the fortress, chaos reigned. Assassins ran down the road, hurrying into position, as frightened villagers clambered up in the opposite direction, seeking shelter.
Raouf met Altaïr as he passed through the gates. "Altaïr, it's good you've come. We need your help," He gestured to a couple young assassins who had followed him.
"What's happened?"
"Templars." The word alone spoke volumes. "They attacked the village," Raouf pointed back down the road. "Most of our people were able to get away. Most, but not all."
"What do you need me to do?" Altaïr asked quickly.
"Distract the Templars," Raouf offered. "Keep them occupied while I rescue those still trapped inside.
"As you wish," he said with a certain relish, and ran to do just that.
END NOTES:
Slightly longer chapter today. Not the best stopping point, but didn't want it to drag on too long, and that's where the walkthrough video from the series I'm using ended, so it seems as good as any other.
A note on names: I have never seen this game played before, and I'm not terribly familiar with all of the names. The walkthrough I'm watching doesn't use subtitles, so I have to guess by the sound as to the spelling; thus my major fail of calling Robert de Sable "Robert de Salle." I really should know better, since I speak French, but whatever. If you see that I have misspelled a name (or got it completely wrong) please tell me. I'll be more than happy to fix it.