The sun beat down on the rooftops, and heated the cobblestone steets. The architechture easily revealed it, it was the renaissance. maybe a few years after or at the start, but it was the renaissance. The age of technology, art, exploration... and assassins.
Deep in the heart of the city something was happening. The crowds were gathered, the bands were playing, and a silent eagle soared overhead.
In the center of a large square was a building, a massive building. In front of that building were fifty guards, at least, and on the steps stood a man. He paced back and forth, his voice booming over the crowd. He spoke of war, peace, rule, and famine. He spoke... lies. Yet, the people believed him, all but one.
In the center of the crowd stood a man. His black cowl raised onto his head. He satred up at the man. He sat in silence, and then began to slowly move forward. He gently brushed people out of his way, as they cheered for the man in front of them. Cheered for the Templar.
The war had been going on for longer than anyone could remember. Longer than anyone could comprehend. The war to end all wars... and no one even knew it was happening. It was silence. Battles for relifgion, lies, simply another ploy to strike at the other side. A leader being murdered, not a random act of violance... retaliation.
The two sides were not known by many, and those who did figure out the truth usually didn't live long enough to say much. The sides battled against each other in the underground. their conflict written between the lines of human history. it is what drives development... the two trying to best each other.
On one side the Templars. A group of cruel corrupt leaders, who's only goal is to gain control. They have existed since civilization. wherever there was corrupt politics, there was a templar. They're willing to kill anyone to get what they want... dominion. They want nothing more than to rule over humankind, with no resistance.
That is were the second side comes in. They have existed since before civilization. They battle the templars in secret, you won't find their names in a history book. They work in the dark to serve the light... they are assassins.
There are very few of them. wheras the templars raise armies, they raise warriors. living weapons. a person who can slaughter hundreds without being seen. They are the apex of human evolution. thay are few and far between, and one of them was walking through the crowd.
The man approached the base of the steps. He stood in silence watching the templar. He waited until the templar saw him. Waited for him to make eye contact. He watched as the color drained from the man's face, as he realized the truth. His life was over.
A flick of the wrist, and a leap, was all it took. the templar lay on the ground blood dripping from his neck as he stared up at the assassin. His eyes lost there light, and he went limp. The assassin closed his eyes, and the words "Be Silenci en Requiesta" were spoken. Then he was gone.
The guards swarmed the area, shoving screaming citizens aside as they searched through the crowd. They pushed every single person out of the way. Grabbing anyone in black to check their identities, but they were to late. The man was already half a mile away.
He smiled as he heard the screaming crowd from where he was. He walked into a small building with a square courtyard. His eyes flashed gold, and then he walked to a stone, and pulled it aside. Beneath it was a hole, and he quickly looked back and forth to make sure no one was watching. Then he dropped into it.
Two minutes later he walked into the assassins hideout quietly. The Assassins Hideout was a home base of sorts. It rested beneath the city streets, and was unbeknownst to the thousands who walked above it. It was connected to every part of the city by a network of tunnels. Someone who could navigate them could be anywhere in minutes, and someone who didn't would easily become lost.
Luckily, the man knew every inch of the tunnel and traveled them daily. He clicked the door closed, and moved into the Hideout. He walked into the common room, and was blocked by a throwing knife flying into the wall next to him. He smiled at the blade's owner.
"Great way to say welcome home." He spoke with an italian accent, as he pulled the small dirk out of the wall.
"Well I try." The sensual femine voice cooed back to him. He smiled, and tossed the blade back to the woman relaxing in an armchair. She shot her hand up, and caught the weapon in between two fingers. The female assassin stood up, and dropped her cowl, letting her long black hair fall loose. Her assassins robes clung tightly to her, and she smiled at the assassin.
"So," A voice said from a corner, "I take it he's dead?"
"Yes." The Assassin responded "My blade had finished him off before the guards had realized i was there, and by the time they got to him it was to late."
"Perfect." A third Assassin stood, the owner of the voice "That means we're done. the last of the templars is dead." He smiled as he walked out his friend. He wore the usual assassin's robes, but in a dark blue. On his back rested a long gun, and a sword. Just as he said these words, a large bang was heard, and the room shook.
"I wouldn't be so sure." The female Assassin said.
"Sirs!" A voice yelled from one of the upper rooms "There are templ- Ahh" Another bang silenced the voice.
"Bartimeaus, get the recruits out of here!" The black clad assassin yelled at his blue counterpart "Issabelle, and I will hold off the templars."
"Of course." Bartimeaus dipped his head, and ran off into another room, as the other two ran up the stairs.
They ran up many flights, and ended up at the top of the roofs. The jumped up to the highest rooftop, and looked down at the scene before them.
There were streets lined with templar soldiers. Some on horse back, others clad in heavy armor. In the far back was a cannon, and next to it stood a man.
He stood next to the cannon, and walked in a silver and golden armor. His black hair was trimmed short, and the scar running down the left side of his face simply added to his raged appearance. He pointed at the building, and the cannon fired again. It struck home, and a precipice fell.
"Demitri Servioni da Venicia! I have found your hiding place little bird, and now I'll send my dogs in to flush you out!" He screamed to the building "If you give yourself up now, I'll make your death swift... But if you resist me, I'll tear every brick of this city apart to find you, and then I'll make sure you know pain before you die!"
"He just loves the sound of his own voice." Issabelle chuckled "There must be at least 200 of them down there."
"Two hundred, and fifty by my count..." Demitri said, pulling his black hood up "They should've brought more." He smiled at her, and she nodded. He ran forward, and she started after him. They ran out onto a small strut of wood, and then they both leapt into the crowd below.
Venice, Italy.
September 10, 1540
...Ten Years Prior.
"Demitri!" Mira Servioni called to her son "Could you come down here, please?"
"Of course, Mother." Demitri's voice came from the upper landing of the family's small home. Demitri ran out, and jumped off the landing, landing in front of his mother.
"Oh! Would you not do that around me?" Mira chuckled "You know I worry."
"Sorry Mama." Demitri shrugged "I need to stay in practice." He stood a few inches taller than his mother. At sixteen he was rather mature for his age, and was easily as intelligent as any grown man. His silver hair was cut short, and he wore clothes made of cotton died black and venetian teal.
"Look," She said, "Put your jumping to use, and go pickup a package for me. Go to the hearth district, and find a shop called eagle's nest. Talk to the man named Solim. Tell him I sent you."
"Of course." He said "I will return with your package, but then i've got to be on my way. Bartimeaus and I are planning on enjoying the Cruz's festivales."
"Oh Basto Cruz, and his parties." She rolled her eyes "Alright, but that just means you'll have to get that package even quicker."
"So off I go." He chuckled, and ran up the side of the courtyard. He dissapeared over the rooftops, and his mother rolled her eyes.