A/N: This is a short start to a, hopefully, great story. I love Assassin's Creed and I'm excited to be writing about it. I'd like to dedicate this story to Sparkly-elf, who inspired me with her fantastic story, A Stab in the Dark, which I am still reading. :P Please leave reviews! I welcome them with open arms! But no flaming please, even though I love support and constructive criticism! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I OWN ALTAIR! He is mine I tell you, MIIIIINE! Ahhhh! -runs away from the assassins- Okay okay! He's not mine! And neither is the game, Assassin's Creed, DAMN YOU ALL! -pouts- I want Altair...

Those Less Fortunate

I tried to hurry down the street discreetly, but I was sure I failed miserably. Damn the guards and their perversion. Why did I have to come into the poor district? Oh yeah, because I have a heart, unlike my pig of a father and all his friends. I hate them all.

I turned down a busier street and slowed my pace, hoping to get lost in the ever growing crowd. I didn't dare glance behind me. Not yet. I clutched my dark brown shemgah close to me, making sure nothing but my eyes were visible. Nobody could know who I was. I stopped at a vendor selling cheap jewelry, pretending to browse when I was really looking back the way I came. I stiffened when the five guards who had been following me walked slowly closer, scrutinizing the crowd. They're still looking for me, I realized with a jolt of fear. I was about to turn and leave when one of the sneering guards looked at me and then grinned. Damn. I turned and walked off, my anger slowly rising to cover my fear. The injustice of this city! A lone woman should be able to walk the streets and not worry about being molested by guards. I turned down an alley and, once out of the guards' line of sight, sprinted to the end. No ladder. I ran from one side of the alley to the other and began to scale the wall. A hand grabbed my ankle. Hm. They're faster than I thought.

I landed on the ground with and 'ompf' before jumping to my feet. One of the guards grabbed my arm and tried to throw me against the wall, but I thwarted him by grabbing his wrist and twisting it painfully. Then I decked him. He stumbled back and almost fell into one of the three guards that had formed a human wall to keep me from escaping the alley. I'm much stronger than I look.

"HEY!" he exclaimed roughly. The three standing watch turned to face me and drew their swords. I cursed myself silently. Of all the days to not bring a dagger, this had to be it. I wasn't very good at swordplay, but I was decent enough to protect myself. If there had been one or two less men and none of them had swords, I could take them in hand to hand. But…well, you get the picture. This was not going to end well.

The guard I had punched rubbed his jaw and sauntered towards me, "Well, well, well, aren't you the feisty one?"

"Well, well, well," I sneered back, "aren't you the ugly one?"

His eyes bulged angrily and his breathing became ragged. Stupid stupid stupid. I just couldn't keep my big mouth shut. Enraging a half-drunk guard with a sword was not the smartest thing to do. My head suddenly jerked back as the fifth guard grabbed my shemgah. I shrieked, frightened they would see my face, and clutched the cloth to me. I'd forgotten about the one behind me, a potentially fatal mistake. I was getting rusty. I reached back and grabbed his wrist, hoping to swing him around into the other man, but the one I'd hit grabbed my free hand and laughed. All fear washed out of me as boiling anger filled my body and mind.

"DAMMIT!" I screamed. The guards blinked at me in shock. "How DARE you men do this! THIS is EXACTLY what is wrong with this God forsaken city! A woman should be able to walk through ANY street, regardless of the District, and not have to worry about being assaulted! This is foolish and MUST be stopped! Do you men have no respect! I swear to all of you, this will stop! I will see to it!" I think I may have stomped my foot. I'm not sure; I was mentally and physically blinded by rage. Yes, that really happens.

"What are you going to do about it, girlie?" One of the guards asked with a chuckle as he grabbed me around the waist.

I seriously thought about ripping off my shemgah then and there, to let them see who they were touching. To let them know how deep in shit they were. I knew their faces. I knew their posts. They were dead meat when I got out of this.

But.

If I showed them who I was, everything would be ruined. I could never visit the children at the orphanage or the women at the bazaar.

So instead, I screamed wordlessly in frustration. Screw the fact that they have swords, I decided, and swiftly kicked the guard I had punched. I caught him square in the groin, causing him to double over. I tried to turn to the other guard but the three keeping watch stepped forward and placed the tips of their blades against my throat. Well, this can't get any worse. A sharp poke in my back told me the guard behind me had his sword out. Scratch that, now it can't get any worse.

"You. Are. Coming. With. Us." The guard, whom I had deemed their leader, literally spat in my face. I glared daggers at him and hoped he rotted in hell. He smirked at me, "I'll gladly go to hell, if you're there with me, sweet-thang."

Oops. I hadn't meant to say that aloud. Stupid again. I was in the midst of trying to figure out what I was going to do when what appeared to be a scholar came down the alley. That's funny, I thought. Why would a scholar be coming down here? I didn't say anything about him, though. I didn't want to speak at all, so I just watched him slowly approach as four of the guards spat profanities at me. I ignored them and watched as the scholar knelt beside the guard still writhing on the floor from my kick to the family jewels. I almost gasped when a blade appeared in his left hand…no, on his wrist and he stabbed the guard in the neck, covering his mouth to keep him silent. I feuded with myself on alerting the guards. What the hell, let him kill them. They deserved it. I just prayed he didn't come after me later on. Strange scholar.

The cloaked man, which I was soon positive wasn't a scholar, stood and walked up silently behind the 'leader of the pack' that was harassing me. I didn't see what he did, but the guard stiffened and dropped his sword. The remaining guards looked at him curiously as the man slipped behind another of the guards and before the leader fell to the ground, and stabbed him. At least I think that's what he did. I couldn't see.

The two remaining guards exclaimed and whirled on the cloaked man, who drew out a short sword. This should be interesting. When they were slowly approaching my supposed savior, I grabbed a dagger off one of the dead guards' belts, gripped the hair of a live guard, jerked his head back, and slit hit throat. The white-cloaked man turned to look at me, I think. I couldn't quite tell where he looked; his hood prevented anything but his mouth from being seen. Very suspicious, hm? He turned back to the final guard, who had attempted to take advantage of the cloaked man's temporary distraction by taking a swing. Key word 'attempted'.

The cloaked man ducked under the sword, punched the man in the gut, and then brought his own blade down in a swinging arch, slicing into the base of the guard's neck. He collapsed in a spray of blood, which the 'scholar' easily dodged, keeping his robes immaculate. He bent and cleaned the bloodied blade on one of the guards shirt and then turned to me.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, husky voice. I looked the fallen guards and then the dagger in my hand, crestfallen. More lives lost because of stupidity.

"Yes, I suppose." I sighed and dropped the dagger. The man waited a moment and I blinked at him.

"I'm waiting for you to go into shock, or something." He stated bluntly. I smiled and shook my head.

"No, sir, I won't be going into shock. I've seen a lot worse than this. I'm mostly…disappointed with the system here in the Poor District." I sighed again and stepped away from the bodies and closer to the man, "Thank you very much for saving me."

"Of course." He said and nodded, "Though you seemed to handle this very well."

I opened my mouth to respond but he cocked his head and then ran over and up the side of the building. I stared after him and felt my anger returning. Following, I quickly scaled the wall and saw him running to the end of the building. "HEY!" I called after him, "Get back here!"

He stopped at the edge of the roof and turned to me. I stormed over to him. How rude can you get? "What is your problem?" I demanded, while internally cursing my tongue. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. Mother always said that I need to learn to think before speaking. "You just walk away when I'm in the middle of conversing with you?"

"You scaled that wall very well…" he murmured, completely ignoring my questions, "And you speak as if you belong to a higher class than that of the poor district. But your clothes indicate you are not wealthy."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, sir." I hissed, "Who are you?"

He didn't say anything. Just stared, I think, at me. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to respond. For about a minute we stood and just stared at each other. Eventually, however, I grew weary of his game and I rolled my eyes, turning to leave, "Forget it, I'm leaving. You're probably insane, anyway." I began to walk away, mumbling to myself, "Who runs around on rooftops anyway?"

"Indeed. I was going to ask you the same." His husky voice floated over to me. I turned sharply and glared at him, almost jumping in surprise when I noticed he had moved up next to me, silently.

"Oh, now you'll talk." I laughed bitterly. "Will you also give me your name?"

"No." he said simply, his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. I sighed angrily and turned to go again, my anger slowly fading and a twinge of fear beginning to grow. This man was dangerous and I need to get away. My anger had clouded my judgment, as usual. I nodded curtly and turned away, marching proudly across the roof to where I could see a ladder. Ladders are a girl's best friend.

"So." The man said, suddenly beside me. I couldn't help but jump this time. He smiled and I shot him a glare that said 'if looks could kill'. His smile faded, though there was still a trace of it on his dark, full lips, "Will you give me your name?"

I laughed at him, "Of course not! You would not give me yours."

It was chance that I happened to look past him and into the streets, where I saw a parade of guards and livery. In the center, was a tall, aging man on a bay gelding, dressed in the finest of clothes. He was scrutinizing the crowds, as were the guards surrounding him. I swore loudly and turned away from the cloaked man, not waiting for him to say more. I had to get away from there. I sprinted to the edge of the roof and leapt across the dark alley to the next roof. I didn't look back to see if the man on the horse had seen me. I didn't look back to see if the cloaked man followed. I didn't look back for anything. For if I was caught in the poor district by Muhammed Afzal I'timad, the current ruler of Jerusalem, I would most definitely suffer a fate worse than death.