A/N: Well fuck, I've written another story, and this time I'm trying something different and hope it works well, enjoy you cunts. -Two

TangentTwo: *Gazes along the horizon*

TangentOne: Two, what the fuck are you doing up there?

Two is sat up on a perch, almost a kilometer high and supported by unseen strings.

TangentTwo: I am watching my domain. *A bird caws in the background*

TangentOne: Alright then. Honestly I've no idea how I haven't gone insane yet.

One takes his leave back to the Tangential Household.

TangentTwo: *Barely audible whisper* We will rectify that in the coming days.

Chapter I

The Order's Command

Fleet Road, home to the Order and my home ever since I was betrayed by those I thought of as family. The very fact I have been summoned sends my mind racing with anticipation, as only one thing could have them bring me from my current orders. I walk up to the mansion and knock twice on the door, waiting for the servants of the Order to answer and inform me whether the members of the Inner Sanctum are ready to see me. A man of about fifty years answers the door, opening it wide and bowing slightly towards me.

"Good morning Ser Braydon, I believe the Lord is waiting for you in the great hall along with the rest of the council." His tone is filled with respect as I pass him with only a nod.

I make my way through the main hall passing all of the other servants, each bowing as I pass. I take the grand stairs up to the great doors atop of them, flanked by two guards and a servant waiting patiently to open them. The door creaks open inch by inch as the elderly servant pushes it inwards, revealing the council all sitting in their places and their eyes focused on the door awaiting my arrival.

"Ser Braydon, the Council is glad you could make it on such a short notice. We commend you on your recent efforts for the Order, and it all but proves your worth of the very ring you wear now." An Elderly man voices from the head of the table, Grandmaster Roland Gilbert.

I bow deeply before resuming my walk into the room. "Thank you, Grandmaster, it is as always a pleasure to serve." I stop at the empty end of the table, standing with proper eloquence.

The room is the pinnacle of disparity between the rich and poor, showing off all types of ornaments and gems throughout the continents. Even one who is lucky enough to consider themselves rich would feel like a beggar in this mansion. The Orders paraphernalia was present on the large mahogany table and hanging over the large golden curtains that hung over the large windows. Each of the Lords present wore their finest formal attire, not wanting to be outdone by the room itself.

My attire is that of an assassin, but with a few changes to show my loyalty lies not with the assassins but the Order. The biggest of which was instead of the white worn by those of the Brotherhood, mine is black with red accents and a red sash across my midsection covered mostly by a dark leather sash with sheaths for throwing knives. On either of my arms were excellently crafted leather gauntlets, the same as colour as the sash, with the forearm covered by scale mail. My boats mirrored my gauntlets in colour and craftsmanship, with the same scale mail covering the front.

Sitting to the right of Grandmaster Roland is my mentor and master, Lord Rhys Moore. He brought me into the Order when I was at my lowest and gave me a purpose, to save the very world from itself.

"Well done Braydon, thanks to you the next decade is ensured to follow our plans. You have done well by me." My mentor congratulates me, letting formalities slip slightly. "Now, if Grandmaster Roland will allow me, we have a mission I'm sure you will enjoy."

The rest of the council chirps in agreement, as Grandmaster Roland sits with an ever stoic face, I can only assume contemplating my mission or how I will react to it. I have never once questioned an order or declined a mission and the sudden calling of this mission must be putting him on edge. He has put a lot of resources into my growth and if I dare decline any order by him is to jeopardise my own position in the Order.

On the left of the Grandmaster is Lord Christopher Livingston, a noble from the north of England. He has all but provided the Order with ores of all kind singlehandedly and holds a large amount of sway with the council.

"Ser Braydon, this mission will require all of your training and time to fulfil. We have most of the information you will need for it, the rest is up to you." The portly Lord Christopher adds to the conversation while stroking his mighty beard.

Again the lords all voice their agreeance of his words as finally, Grandmaster Roland holds up his hand to silence the room. A minute of silence follows once the room falls quiet, Grandmaster Roland is choosing his words and making sure the atmosphere suits them.

"You are to seek out and completely destroy the British Brotherhood of Assassins. They have posed a threat for too long to our plans and now is the time for you to deliver our justice upon them." The Grandmaster commands, his aura of authority filling the entire room placing all on edge including me. "Once the Assassins are dealt with, you will bring me the head of their Mentor or failing that Brandon Edwards. Their pesky lot will die out with either of them gone."

I bow deeply for the second time this meeting. "Yes, Grandmaster, their Brotherhood will not last past the new year, of that, I promise you and the Order."

The elder man nods sagely, as does the rest of the council present. Lord Rhys stands and makes his way around the large table to stand to the side of his apprentice.

"Of that, I have no doubt, I will escort you out and have the information we have collected on their whereabouts and their activities sent to your accommodation." His praise fills me with a sense of pride, something I had never been given by my former family.

He then extends his hand, to which I quickly mirror the gesture, turning to face him and taking hold of his hand firmly and relaxing after a swift shake.

"I understand." I then turn myself to face the rest of the council again. "Thank you for this mission, I will take my leave now unless you have further need of me, Grandmaster?"

"You may go, we have further matters to discuss and we do not wish to keep you from your orders." Grandmaster Roland confirms as he turns to start discussions with the rest of the council.

Lord Rhys and I turn and make a rather swift exit from the hall, striding down the great stairs and out of the mansion entirely. Once outside, a horse-drawn carriage appears in the busy streets, on the carriage was the crest of Lord Rhys house along with adornments of gold leaf and other fancy patterns. A servant walks up to the carriage and opens up the side doors, continually holding it open until we situate ourselves inside of it. The inside of the carriage was as luxurious as the outside, lined with red silk and plump goose feather pillows.

The ride back to my accommodations is long, as the streets of London were as busy as they had ever been, filled with peasants cleaning up their waste and merchants peddling their wares. It took longer than expected but upon arrival, Lord Rhys looks to me and hands me a sword.

"Braydon, this sword was mine as a lad, may it serve you as it had me." He articulates letting me take it from his grasp. "Above all make sure to use it to kill that damned Mentor of theirs."

"I will, Lord Rhys, if it's the last thing I do." I vow placing the sword on my belt and exiting the carriage. "Now go, the Grandmaster won't see you late."

As soon as the words leave my mouth the carriage is off again, back to the Grandmasters mansion for the rest of the council's meeting.

A few hours pass with relative ease as I wait for the information to be delivered to me. I spend the short amount of free time on a range of jobs from sharpening my daggers and throwing knives and working on repairing my armour and clothes.

After the fifth hour a knock on my door occurred, and after a moment a man walks inside. With him is two of the Order's servants with large books of information which I can only assume contains the information for my mission. The man at the head is well dressed, though not to the same degree as the council, in fine silk and velvet. Around his neck is the Order's regalia, being hit by the candlelight and showing its true beauty.

"Ser Braydon, do accept my apologies as I was ordered to come right in as this information is very sensitive and cannot be left outside of a secure place." The man bows once he arrives in front of me.

"It is okay, I understand the scope of this mission. Now, tell me what resources are at my disposal, any subordinates or am I to do this alone?" I question the man gesturing to the servants to place the books on my desk.

"The resources at your disposal are as such, you are given control over any members of the Order wherever your missions take you." He answers picking himself up from his bow. "I shall leave you to take in the information if you need anything else please don't hesitate to call, Ser Braydon."

"Good, you may leave." I encourage more than suggest as the man retreats out of the door followed by the servants.

As the wooden door closes I turn my attention to my desk, filled with both large books and many other papers and writing equipment. I stride over to in and open up the first book, its contents are names and favoured locations of every high ranking assassin in the British Brotherhood. Every assassin is detailed in full, from the weapons they favour in a battle to their family and known acquaintances. I flip through the book, taking in the names of my prey and seeing the faces of those I've encountered on my missions for the Order. After a few minutes of page turning, I stop on the page of the Brotherhood's highest ranking assassin other than the mentor himself, Brandon Edwards.

Brandon Edwards, a man who is known to do all he can to oppose the Order's growth in the British Isles, even going to such lengths as to force diplomatic breakdowns with other Rites in the Order. His page indicates that he's been in and out of the country recently, offering his assistance to other brotherhoods and singlehandedly stopping Order operations while there. Like the rest of the pages, no image or sketch showing his appearance only minor notes as to any notable feature, if there was any to list. The assassins were very good at hiding themselves, not that it will save them from my wraith.

I spend a week memorizing everything in the books given to me, looking at every major assassin, anyways to start the process of dismantling them and which ways will prove most effective. After deep contemplation, I start my journey and head for the city of Bristol, a heaven of Brotherhood activity. According to the information, I've been given the Brotherhood is planning to assassinate the currently Lord in favour of one they have sponsored, effectively cutting the Order's influence over Bristol and the county. The arrangements for the journey took less than a day to make, having access to the best methods of travel in the world really makes the difference.

I arrive at the port of London, taking in the site of one of the largest ports in all of Europe. Cranes line all of the docks, with cargo and other goods all along the piers. Ships of all types are docked, from Italian galleys to the British Carracks, most being used for trading while some belonged to the Royal Navy. Vast amounts of people fill in the cracks left vacant making it easy for anyone to become lost. I push past the crowds and make my way the only dock without any cargo or large groups of people. The only things present is the crew of the ship and the ship itself.

The ship in question was a cog, a single-masted flat bottom vessel mainly used to transport troops in war times or short trade ventures. At the top of the mast was the flag of England and below that, the symbol of the Order. I stride over to a man, stood directly in front of the ramp to the ship. The man is dressed in typical seaman attire, but on deeper inspection, an Order symbol could be spotted around his neck.

He bows, looking me directly in the eye. "The trip will take a few days, and as such a room has been prepared for you. I will alert you once we arrive in Bristol." He stands himself back upright and moves to the side, gesturing to the ramp while bowing his head.

"Have my things been placed in the room?" I query placing my left hand on my sword's hilt.

The man tilts his head before regaining his composure. "Ah, yes, the books have been placed in and two of my finest men are guarding the room."

"Good, very good. Now, I have no time to lose so I expect to see the sea by the end of the day, understood?" I order, my aura speaking volumes to my mood as my face is covered by my hood.

"Very well my Lord." He accepts, following me up the ramp and pulling it up after the last of the crew board the vessel.

On my way to the only room below deck, I pass the crew, each nodding at me with some degree of respect. Beside my door, as the man had said, is two well-built men each holding an English bill. I move past them and through the door, closing it behind me to see a modest room with a bed, desk and chair but nothing more. Space is a luxury on a cog. On the desk is the books that had been delivered to me at my accommodation, as the information will always be useful and leaving it behind would have been a waste. I sit down on the modestly sized bed, contemplating my moves once I arrive at Bristol.

On the second day at sea, a knock is heard from my door, followed by a quick shout. I stood from my chair and move to the door, unsheathing my dagger and a couple of throwing knives. I inch slowly to the door, taking each step with caution, using the time to see if I could hear anything out of ordinary. Another knock resounds through my room.

"My Lord, we have an issue, please come topside quickly." The man from before shouts with urgency.

I increase my pace and swing open the door to be greeted by an arrow, which barely misses my head. The captain in the same second ducks to the side of the doorframe, incomplete shock yet unable to inform me as to the origin of the arrow or why he disturbed me. I scout the cargo hold, my gaze analyzing everything in sight. I move out my room and into the open, as I do the trapdoor to the hold opens, followed by a man clad in white robes jumping down and standing directly opposed to me. He says nothing, he merely holds himself high.

"Well, it would seem the Brotherhood heard of my travel. Oh well, it saves me time hunting you down later, let me guess, from the discrepancy with the robes you must be a Master Assassin sent to ensure your plan in Bristol succeeds?" I rationalize to the man while relaxing my stance visibly while keeping my guard up inside.

He spits out of anger before seething. "How dare you bastardise our sacred robes! They were not meant for your kind!" He slides into a combat stance, drawing his hidden blade and a parrying dagger.

The hidden blade, an Assassin's prized weapon. The blade itself was the pinnacle of weaponry within their Brotherhood, equipping all from novices to their master assassins with it. It sits on the wearers underarm, concealed from sight but once needed unsheaths to form a dagger length blade from the wrist.

"It's not a bastardization I assure you, it's an upgrade from that pathetic gear you fools wear." I retort still standing opposite him in a casual stance letting his anger take control of him. "Now, before you die would you mind answering some questions?"

Again the man spits, this time at me hitting the ground a few feet in front of me. He begins to size me up allowing me precious moments to do the same, effectively a stalemate until one of us acts. The ship creaks continually on the waves, wood slamming into wood and the sound of more men topside. The grate above our head shows the crew on their knees and at the mercy of another assassin and a few, of what I can only assume is pirates.

In my momentary lapse of focus, the assassin ahead of me lunges at me, his parrying dagger looking to parry any counter I make, leaving an opening for his hidden blade to find my neck or stomach. I do the same, placing my dagger ahead of me, opting for a defensive stance and welcoming his assault. Once within arms reach I slash my dagger at him, for it to be caught and parried by his own dagger. In the same motion, he forces his arm forward, hoping for a quick fight.

It finds air as I contort out of its path, grabbing onto his arm once able to. He curses, bringing his dagger across my chest in an upwards diagonal slash, for it to find my own dagger in its path. I lock our daggers together, using the shape and style of each to ensure neither of us can back up.

"Now, seeing as we are at an impasse… where is the Brotherhood's base?" I demand, maintaining my grip and the control over the deadlock.

"Ha, I would never tell a Templar, especially you!" The Assassin seethes, attempting to gain an upper hand by flailing his arms.

I sigh, my tone shifting and becoming much darker. "I will ask once more if you fail to answer, you'd best pray to whatever god you worship."

A subtle laugh fills the silence left after my ultimatum, the assassin is unfazed by my words. "You Templars are all the same, acting like your words carry any weight with us. You like so many before you will fail so try your best, scum."

"Oh, I don't think my words carry any weight with you lawless assassins, I was merely giving you a chance to leave alive." As the last word leaves my lips, I twist my dagger, in turn twisting his and disarming him.

As his dagger hits the wooden floor of the ship, I release my grip on his arm in favour of counter-attacking with my hidden weapon. A hidden blade. I push forward, closing the last metre in a second, unsheathing my hidden blade and planting it firmly into his neck. He tries to move, but he is too close and has no time to act. Had he been a few feet further away and it would have been a different ending, but he isn't and such led to his death.

I keep the pressure on my right arm, pushing the blade as deep as possible ensuring his painful defeat. He tries to speak but no words find their way out, only gurgles of air escaping through his now blood-filled mouth. I relent and pull my blade from his neck, once the blade exits the wound, blood gushes from the gash staining the wooden floor and his once pristine robes.

The body hits the floor with a thud, alerting the remaining assassin and pirates topside. They look down through the grate to see me, looking up at them, only my grin on show. A volley of curses exits their mouths, as the assassin jumps down the trapdoor. Unlike the dead assassin, this one does not waste time with words immediately drawing his sword. A crude crusader blade, a remnant of the assassins of Masyaf if nothing else. He begins to circle me, his eyes never leaving my form.

"I grow bored of this game, I'll give you the same chance as the last assassin. Where is your Brotherhood's base?" I ask with great annoyance, not from their actions more their ability to be extremely stubborn until the end.

Like his companion before him, he remains silent when questioned. The only sounds that can be heard are the pirates topside keeping the crew in line and the circling assassins steps around me. The steps were heavy, those of a man with nothing to lose and a Brotherhood of fools to protect. Each step echoed around the creaking ship, all while his gaze attempted to pierce through me. A minute passes, still sizing me up, but unlike his companion, he doesn't hide his weak points. It is either from lacking any real combat experience or he's trying to lure me into attacking those points, with a plan already in his mind to counter.

"I tried to be reasonable, but alas you assassins always look a gift horse in the mouth." I groan with further annoyance, letting my hidden blade finally sheath with blood still dripping from the blade.

I place my dagger back into its sheath, ignoring the circling assassin for a moment, to plan my movements. His most glaring weakness being his open front, yet from my inspection of his robes, it looks like he's a novice, lacking all the armour and gear used by those higher up the assassin ranks. Given that his open front is more than likely something he hasn't planned and is oblivious to the very fact it's easy to exploit.

I draw my sword, the one given to me by Lord Rhys. The blade is a standard longsword, but the hilt itself is adorned with Order regalia and colouring making the blade very much unique. I hold the blade in my right hand, blood from my last kill beginning to seep into the hilts many small crevices. Within moments of me drawing the blade, from behind me the assassin strikes. The man swings his blade downwards, hoping to land a crushing blow splitting my skull. At the last moment, I dodge the attack by stepping to the side and deflecting part of the strike with my own sword. The sound of metal clashing resonates around the ship, drawing the attention of the people topside. Each watching intently.

He backs off, regaining his composure again beginning to circle me, I mirror him and lock my gaze with his. He launched again, swiping his blade horizontally at me, to which I parry and riposte with a quick stab grazing his arm. Blood begins to trickle from the graze, only noticeable because of it staining his robe. For a third time, the assassin lunges at me, this time aiming to impale his blade through my midsection. I step to the right, for him to stop and swing the blade at me, catching me off guard. The blade slices through the air, only stopping once it hits my own sword.

I see a smile creep on the hooded man's face, he thinks he's sized me up and is on top. A sentiment I allow to grow, as an overconfident enemy is more often than not, a simple one to kill. I push back against the stalemate, causing the assassin to lose his balance. In my next movement, I quickly pull out two throwing knives with my left hand and throw them at him. Both landing in his leg, forcing him to let out a shriek of pain but not deterring him from his duty.

He moves back towards the trapdoor, visually rethinking his approach to this battle. Blood from his wounds is now making its way onto the floor, even though all of them are no more than grazes or shallow wounds. His expression, or what I could see of one, is pained, another reason I believe he's a novice.

"If you answer my question, I'll let you leave." I try to reason with the stubborn assassin as I already wasted more time than I wanted to.

"You'll… you'll let me go?" The assassin queries, not letting down his guard but relaxing his expressions.

"That's what I said, now tell me, where is the Brotherhood's hideout?" I repeat the very same question from before.

"The main hideout is in Slough near London. Other small hideouts are run in Bristol, York and Cardiff. Only the Slough one has more than a couple of assassins at any time, and it's the main hideout for recruits and all other assassins not on assignment." The hooded man spills all of the information after sheathing his sword and putting pressure on his leg wounds. "So I can leave right?"

I stride over to the assassin, placing my sword into its sheath after wiping it quickly on my robe and set my hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid not, as your kind is not long for this world."

Horror overcomes the man's face as he tries to push me away, but fails as my grip proves stronger. I draw my hidden blade and swiftly slice open his throat, letting him go to slam onto the wooden floor with a bloody crunch. Blood pooling around him, inch by inch, seeping deeper into the wood. The pirates topside all look on with shock and confusion, it seems they were strung along on some petty lies by the Brotherhood or promised a great deal of gold for their assistance. The crew, however, don't react, each knowing the outcome yet still fear for their lives, something a servant of the Order shouldn't show.

I move myself to the ladder that is connected to the trapdoor, once there climbing it slowly as to let the realisation of this battle's outcome. They had lost, if two assassins couldn't put me down then how can they? Pirates were not true men, merely boys who had lost their way and ended up on the sea raiding traders who had no way to stop them. I must be their first real challenge.

As the fear continues to mount on their faces as I stand off of the ladder. Once my view settles on the pirates, I take in their numbers. Only six of them were present next to the crew, keeping them on their knees and some even bound by rope. Each of them shows differing levels of fear, from mild to complete hoping for a way to leave this encounter alive.

"You." I raise my hand and point to the pirate who stands in the middle, wearing clothes that had only minor tearing and was for the most part well kept. "I assume you are the leader of this sorry bunch?"

They all look at each other, making faces of confusion and discussing their situation in hushed tones. After a minute the one I pointed to steps forward his sword now drawn and his nerves steeled.

"Put it down, I have no intention of killing you if you untie my crew and leave." I voice while keeping my hands low.

"How the hell do you expect me to believe you when you killed that man after saying the same?" The pirate reasons, his sword now held up to defend his chest.

"You see, I gave both of them a chance to do as I asked when they decided not to listen I killed them. Now, do as I asked or I'll kill you and not stop until you all lie dead on my ship. Understood?" I threaten, unsheathing my hidden blade and two throwing knives.

He thinks for a moment, I've placed his entire crew's lives on his next action something even a hardened captain will find a hard thing to do. Another minute passes before he starts to move, edging back towards his men as he reaches them he nods to his men, each nodding back to show agreeance. I ready my weapons, planning to take out three in one swift action but as I begin to move they all lay down their arms and kneel before me with their hands on their heads.

For a moment I thought they would give me a fair fight, but they didn't they gave up like the dogs they are. The crew behind them still hold their stoic faces, the few untied standing and freeing the rest before going back about their duties. I begin to move forward, to the leader of the pirates but a sound from behind me grabs my attention. It is the captain, a little worse for wear than before but alive and able to go about his job. I let my guard down, about to turn back to the pirates, before I can a blade is shoved through the captain killing him instantly.

The captain is then pushed, slumping over and hitting the deck revealing a hooded man behind him, a third assassin. The man moves off of the ladder and stands in front of the captain's body, now drenching the deck in a thick coat of maroon blood. On his back lay a bow and quiver, the arrow of which resembling the one shot at me when I first left my room. From the man's body structure he looks like a boy, fresh into the world and ready to show his worth, much like the second assassin was. Unlike the second, he possesses an aura about him that forces me to slide into my battle stance, an aura that says he's not afraid.

"Boy, my patience is running thin when it concerns you cravens, now do what is right and gut yourself." I order him, my stare matching his through our hoods.

He shakes his head and pulls his bow off of his back, taking an arrow out of his quiver too. He places the arrow onto the bow, pulling it back and aiming it at me, not a hint of fear on his face as he does. With not a moment to lose he lets the arrow loose. The arrow glides through the air finding little to resist its power but to my amusement the arrow sails past and hits the pirate captain in the heart. I turn my head, to see the man fall and force the arrow through his chest and out of the back, spraying more blood over the deck.

For the mere second I turned away the assassin leaps at me, his hidden blade already out and sights locked onto my neck for a quick kill. I push his hand out of the way and kick him into the stomach, sending him back into the now pooled blood. He quickly jumps back to his feet, charging me again with his blade still drawn. I throw my knives at him, he dodges the first but the second found its way into the top of his right leg, not stopping his charge nor hindering it.

He pushes his charge entering my reach to which I attempt to grab his arm only to be met with air and a swift kick to the gut. His next strike I was able to stop, grabbing his hand and pulling him close to me. As we stand face to face I quickly plunge my hidden blade into his gut, the blade itself piercing his kidney and killing him. His limp body clings to me for support as the blood begins to stain our robes.

"Bastard Templar, your..." He coughs, blood leaving his mouth with spittle. "Order… will... fall."

"You were a rare case, you could have been a good Templar, but you joined the Brotherhood. A pity." I push my blade deeper as he roars in agony.

"I never… had… a choice… just like you." He manages to voice, the blood now taking full control of his mouth and he relents on his grip.

The boy falls to the ground and lands on his back, the pool of the captain's blood now merging with his. The boy's life drains into the wood and down into the cargo hold, the information he held now forever secure. Just like that of the pirate captains, his secrets now to lie in the blood covering the deck. I begin to move to the remaining pirates as I delve into my thoughts.

"That boy really knew how to keep the truth from those who sought it, a true waste indeed." I muse to myself, as I near the remaining pirates each now drenched in fear and urine.

I draw my longsword and let it bask in the sun's embrace before turning it to the first pirate's neck, severing their head clean off in one swing. Panic starts to take hold of the rest as I take the next swing, hitting the next pirate in the chest, cutting deep and releasing a spray of blood. He falls to the deck, prompting the rest to retreat to the port side of the ship, standing directly at the edge.

I slithered across the deck to them, my sword by my side as I inch closer with every step. The men now all on their knees begging for their lives, one even praying to the gods for a divine intervention, one that will never come. I hold my sword up, bringing it down crashing onto the head of the man in the centre, a thick spray of blood covers the last two remaining pirates. I yank the sword out of the head and clean it with my robes, the blood merging into the fabrics, then I sheath it on my belt.

I move both of my hands to my back, pulling out both of my daggers, they too basking in the sun's gleam. I walk forward, placing my foot on the chest of the pirate sat dead in the centre, kicking him into the sea. After the body hits the water, I turn and drop my daggers into the chest of each of the last pirates, a quick death but not a clean one.

I move myself to the centre of the ship and shout. "All of you front and centre!" The crew all move into formation in front me and stand at attention. "Which one of you sorry lot is the first mate?"

A man strides forward and reenters attention. "I am Ser, and I shall ensure we reach Bristol in record time."

"Good, now the rest of you clean this trash up and search the bodies, I want anything they have delivered to my room." I demand of the crew, turning to leave to the cargo hold and then my room.

A/N: As TangentTeam goes, we have been able to improve each other's writing by peer review and help from a beta or two. However, what we seem to lack is a reader's perspective and would like as many of you as possible to give us reviews. Positive or negative. Positive words of praise on things we've done right, or negative words of wisdom on things that could be improved. Of course, also just reading what you guys think of the story is a good boon to our spirits and helps us to continue writing the stories you like. Thanks for helping us out! - One