A/N: This is a new story that I will be writing. :) This is a preview of what it'll be like, so please enjoy this excerpt. :)
Here's a summary:
Years have gone by and the art of assassination has been brought to a whole new level. People train for years in order to be placed into the annual Assassin Tournament. Once in, they must fight using stealth and assassination techniques to win against their opponents. It's the fight to the death and though many find this to be an abomination, others find this as an opportunity for success, for the winner will get the wealthiest prizes known to man. And this year, everyone will flock to the registrar to sign away their lives as they will fight to gain the ultimate prize: The Apple of Eden. Altaïr, a 23-year-old man with battle scars to show for his years of training, has stepped up to win this prize. He must, or else the prize could be placed into the wrong hands.
I hope the summary wasn't too long. XD Still, please enjoy the excerpt! :D
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Assassin's Creed. :P
A tall man in a white hoodie passed silently through the crowd as he made his way to the registrar to sign up for the upcoming Assassin Tournament. The Assassin Tournament has been the main event for entertainment for decades. Many assassins train to get the chance to be placed into the Tournament and win wealthy prizes. It's the survival of the fittest in this experience. Many will die in the pursuit to win, but the hooded man intended to win. He must. There can be no mistakes.
This man is none other than Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. He is here on a mission and that is to obtain the prize of the Tournament for this year: The Apple of Eden. He knows of its true powers and he will not let it go into the wrong hands.
He stopped in front of an erected building with plain designs and white exteriors. Windows lined in columns along the building display working men and women walking to their destinations. Some were busy reading documents as they attempted in dodging others that were doing the same.
Altaïr sighed heavily as he made his way into the building. He saw a polished circular desk placed against the wall. Two men sat behind the desk, typing away excessively at their computers, most likely inputting the data of other registered members.
He walked up to the desk and waited for them to notice him. They continued to type away on their abused keyboards on Altaïr grew annoyed. He cleared his throat to get their attention. One stopped typing and sighed. The other continued as if he hadn't noticed.
Altaïr ignored the other man, who - after reading his nameplate that was set to the side of the screen - was named Shaun. He couldn't see his eyes through the glare that resided on his glasses from the bright screen in front of him.
"May I help you?" He looked at the other man who addressed him with a condescending tone. He glanced at the nameplate of the secretary.
"Yes, Malik, you could help me," Malik raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent. "Where could I possibly sign up for the Tournament?"
Without looking away, Shaun grabbed two sheets of paper stapled together and set it in front of Altaïr. Malik grabbed a pen and placed it neatly next to the papers. He stood up and leaned against the counter, he pointed at the top sheet.
"Fill in the information that it asks of you and sign at the bottom." He flipped the sheet over the other. "This is a waiver saying we are not responsible for any injury you sustain. Or you know, if you die."
Altaïr starting filling out the information. He stopped. "Why do you ask for the address of the applicant?"
Shaun pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and leaned back. "In case you were to die - which will most likely be the case - we can send information to your family about your death and your body to your hometown. If we can find it, that is."
Altaïr hesitated. "Well, I don't have a family, so should I still put in the information?"
Shaun shrugged. "No, I guess it really doesn't matter now, does it?"
Malik stared at Altaïr as he finished with the application. He knew what it was like to not have a family. He lost his years ago. He sighed. He didn't want to remember the night he slept in an empty house for the first time...
He was brought out of his thoughts when something white flashed in front of his eyes. He blinked a few times. He saw that Altaïr was holding out the paper, waiting for him to take it. He took it carefully and placed it in a folder in a small filing drawer near his right leg.
Altaïr said thank you and turned to leave. Malik stared at his back as he left. "I wonder why he wants to risk his life for this sorry excuse for fun?" He asked, turning back to the computer, thinking about how different Altaïr was compared to the other applicants. He had the aura of a serious assassin, instead of the other cocky dumbasses that just wanted to kill and win.
"Beats me. Now, let's get back to work." Shaun said, typing away yet again.
"... Yeah." Malik muttered and did the same.
Altaïr blended in with the crowd as he made his way to his hotel room. He wanted to stay away from any disturbances as much as possible. He just wanted to get back to think over some things.
All of a sudden, he could hear a man cursing from inside a alleyway. He stopped and looked and to his surprise, he saw two men standing side-by-side with metal baseball bats. He could see a man being cornered and with no means of self-defense.
Altaïr sighed. He couldn't just let the innocent man get hurt. He slowly walked into the alleyway. He could hear the two talking to the man.
"Whatcha gonna do, eh? You ain't got nothin' on us." One said.
"Yeah, just give us your money and we'll be on our way." The other sneered. Altaïr rolled his eyes. Just two gangster wannabes.
"Eh, pensi di potermi battere? Non sei altro che un paio di fighe. Vai succhiare un cazzo, bastardi!" The man stated. The two muggers were confused at what the apparent Italian had said.
Altaïr sighed quietly. Time to end this. He came closer and the hidden blade sprang out, ready to strike.
But before it could make contact, a blade was forced through each of the heads of both men. They gurgled on blood as they fell off of the blades and onto the ground. Altaïr stared at the dead bodies. He turned his gaze to the Italian.
"Chi cazzo sei?" He said, stepping forward, blades at the ready. Altaïr put his hidden blade away.
"I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian." He said, raising his hands to show he meant no harm.
The Italian glared at him, but then put his blades away as well. He smiled. He walked over the bodies and stood in front of Altaïr. "I'm sorry about that. My name is Ezio. Yours?"
Altaïr was hesitant. "... Altaïr." He said, finally.
"Sorry for the mess. What brings you into this alleyway? Not trying to mug me, I hope?" He questioned, bringing his arm up to show the bracer. He wanted to make sure Altaïr could harm him if need be.
He shook his head. "I actually was about to stop those muggers. I thought you couldn't protect yourself, so I came to help."
Ezio laughed. He let his arm fall to his side. "Well, then! Thank you for your generosity. Not many like you around." Altaïr smirked.
"Of course not." He said, then he looked at the bracers on both of Ezio's arms. "Ezio, I must ask, where did you get another hidden blade? And who forged it?"
Ezio gestured for Altaïr to follow. "That would be my friend, Leonardo. He has amazing talent for these kind of things."
"Would he be willing to forge me another as well?" He asked, hoping to increase the chances to kill his opponent in the event.
"With the right price, I'm sure." Ezio said, smirking. Altaïr chuckled.
"Naturally."
"I'll lead you to his workshop, okay?" Ezio stated.
"That would be great." Altaïr said, following closely behind Ezio.
A/N: Alright, this was the preview! :D I will be accepting all kinds of criticism, okay? :3 If you think I could improve something, let me know. :) If you didn't like how something was or loved how something was, let me know. :D I will be changing some things in the final version as well. :) I didn't like how I worded some things, but I could probably fix them at a later time with my thinking. :)
Thanks! :D