Chapter 1

Ezio stood, gazing out at the beautiful city below him. His focus, however, was not on the scenery. He had a new target, and was concentrating on surveying the ground and people below him from his perch on the building. He had to give it to them; the two Templars he was after had hidden themselves well, in the guise of a merchant family. The colours they wore were of the Medici, his allies. It was a clever ploy but his Eagle Vision had still shown them as pure gold, with their escort in red. Gold, the colour of the fabled Apple of Eden. He glanced down at his armor, that of Altair. The fabled assassin had held the Apple and Ezio hoped he had the skill to follow in his predecessor's footsteps and find the object. And even if he could not it was vital that the Templars never lay hands on it.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts the young assassin looked back at his quarry. They were almost beneath him now… one step more and… Ezio leaped, landing and killing the first man in an instant, unsheathing his hidden blade midair. He could hear the chaos around him distantly as he whipped around and threw a knife at the other target. Before it hit he knew he had thrown well, watching it find its mark in the man's chest. Then all sound faded as did his surroundings and he knelt next to the men in a dark gray void. "Where are the others in your group? Tell me now, as there is still time to clear your conscience." The words had a strong Italian accent and were clam and somber. Ezio was not shaken by seeing death or by giving it; it was a part of how he lived. He could not remember recoiling as the sight of a body in his life; death had always walked with him.

"I will tell you nothing." One man rasped. The other, clearly knowing he had nothing to lose interrupted urgently.

"Fiorentino is the man you seek. He is meeting with our allies tomorrow next to the church just north of here." The words faded as the man died, his breath leaving him for the last time. Ezio nodded and spoke in Italian, releasing the two he was speaking to. He suddenly found himself back in the city. He knew that though he had conversed with the two for a while, not a moment had passed in real time. Drawing his sword he began to fight. The guards had no chance, with the long blade scything the air and, at close quarters Ezio's hidden blade whipping out of his clothing.

…

The Doctor landed the TARDIS with surprisingly little difficulty. Amy glanced across at him. "Look at you. Finally leant how to pilot this time lord gadget did we?" He grinned at her teasing.

"Don't call her a gadget she doesn't like it. Now here we are!" The 11th Doctor strode forward throwing open the doors of the ship. "South Africa!" There was a pause. Then;

"That does not look like South Africa. Typical the one time you get the landing good the place it all messed up. I take back what I said about you being able to control where we are going." The Doctor looked puzzled.

"Yes, clearly not South Africa but where are we? It was supposed to be only 20 years in the past but by that clothing..." he broke off, gesturing at the passersby "We are very much in the past. Renaissance I would say and about-" Before he could finished there was a scream and several shouts coming from around the corner of the street they were on.

Neither of them stopped to think. Amy and the Doctor may have been at the wrong place but trouble was the same everywhere and they always wanted to know what was happening. When they turned the corner however they were met with a sight of ruthlessness that even the Doctor was shocked at. There as a man with dark red and black flowing robes with white at the base, neckline and sleeves. There were also hints of beautiful amour worn with the clothing. The man was equipped with a sword and seeped to be killing men by just thrusting his hand onto their chests. The men around him were all attacking but were obviously outmatched. In a matter of minutes all five lay dead.

"Oh my God. Did he just kill them?" Amy started forward but the Doctor held her back.

"Amy! Don't. We don't know who he is or who the ones he killed are. And I don't want to see you get hurt." The Doctor spoke urgently, clearly worried about his companion.

The man in question did not look at them, merely pulled his hood lower over his face ad ran to the side of a building. Ignoring the shouts below him he scaled the structure with deceptive ease, soon high above those who were after him. Even the Doctor was impressed, and he had seen thousands of wonders in his time. "And with barley a handhold. Whoever we are dealing with is very good Amy. I suggest we don't get involved."

"What? You of all people don't want to be caught up in some sort of trouble? No. We're staying. I want to find out what's happening. Even in the past murder like that cannot be taken lightly!"

"Which is exactly why I want to get out of here." The Doctor muttered. But he knew there was no way he would win an argument against his assistant.