The steel Broadsword partially engraved with patterns and swirls struck down against the thinner, sturdier silver long sword, causing sparks to fly within the moment of battle. Ignoring all those around them, the two men deep in survival instincts, adrenaline coursing through their veins, the loud familiar sounds of blades crossing the other, the close and distant sounds of flesh ripping from wounded men and screams of pain and death fills the air whilst echoing off the surrounding walls. Whistling arrows cut through the sky, corkscrewing towards their acquired targets, some miss, some penetrate into the hearts of doomed soldiers, their lives cut short with a single gasp as their chests bleed crimson and strike the floor. The two men stand still momentarily, blood seeking in towards where they stand, bodies engulfing the floor beneath, not even a single stone of the pebbled street lay clean let alone visible, heavy breathes escaping the warriors dry lips, not a single scratch on either of them as they are equally matched in skill.
I was brought into this world without a clue until the age of 17, my father never told me about his assassin past and the battles he fought to protect the people he cared about most and the cities he lived in. My father taught me all he knew, to become the next best assassin, he taught me the ways of his ancestors and the skills I will need to survive to the end in my time, to fight the battles for my loved ones, to teach my children the way to fight and survive in a ever changing world of power and evolution. As a child I had a good bond with my family, I had a mother and I had a father, my childhood was normal, I went to school, I played with my local friends. Our house was bigger than others from the money my father made.
Before the blades were clashing once more, the piercing sounds of muskets ricocheted off the stone walls, pellet holes left in the doors and windows of the buildings around them. The two men put their thoughts aside the battle commenced, blow by blow the steel broadsword was chipping at pace, the black leather handle vibrating by each hit it takes from the silver sword, as the blades locked for a mere 4 seconds he kicked him back and checked his sword, concerned over the jagged edges of his blade in fear it will break. Once again the silver long sword was aimed towards the others face, in hopes to clear his head from his shoulders, each violent thrash of his sword missing the opportunity by a counter attack and blocks.
I remember my first day of training, my father angry and determined when I failed, he wanted me to be perfect, every swing of a steel heavy sword made me tired, to the point I could barely hold the sword up in fighting stance, I was weak, my father knew this, his determination grew day by day to make me into a sword master, no… something more, to make me a master assassin. My father and I trained night and day, starting with the basics of just holding a sword and feeling the weight of it. Every day became more intense, minutes past like days, days past like months until I was ready to be the man I am today.
"Give up Auditore, my men maybe be falling, but my army is even greater than a mere 50 here today!" Finally words broke their fighting silence.
"Not here I wont Borgia, I wont back down to you nor surrender to your men. You may have a army of men, but I have a army of killers in the shadows." He replied back without weakness, his words alone sharp enough to pierce Borgia's armour.
"Don't you see Auditore, these pebbled stones will be your final resting place, maybe your name will be engraved in a wall to honour your stupidity for fighting me and the Papal army." attempting to get within Auditore's mind.
Tempers now provoked from both Auditore and Borgia, A final swing of Borgia's broadsword struck the silver sword, the clang of the blades sounded different, Borgia's fear became truth, his sword now broken in half. Swinging the stub of the blade he once cherished handed down by his father, the violent swings growing tedious and pathetic, Auditore now dodging with ease and without the use of his sword. Borgia realises he is prolonging the inevitable, he launches his broken sword at full force at Auditore, he dodges by a split second, but not quick enough, The broken sword cuts through the assassins pure white robes, leaving now the out of place blood patch. Auditore wore his fathers' traditional white robes with red lining inside the collar and hood, his chest was armoured with elegant silver, with engraved swirls, his shoulders armoured with the same silver but contained the upgrade of a spike on his left side, he wore both his fathers' hidden blades and gauntlets, Auditores' Silver shin guards also engraved with a familiar pattern, they came up to his knees to ensure full protection against dirty fighters, but these were also upgraded, reinforced with three kriss spikes on both knee.
There's one part of my childhood that wasn't so normal, I heard about it a lot in my small quiet village, stories that happened in the near by cites but never thought it would happen to me… The traumatic night changed my life, it was a quiet evening, my parents and I was sitting down about to eat our supper, there was knock at the door that wasn't made by hand, it was like wood knocking on wood, my mother answered the door and there stood two soldiers of the Papal army, one of the men stood with spear, the other who knocked stood with a hatchet, and that's when my life changed.
Auditore stood slightly wounded, a scratch that didn't make him flinch at all. Borgia now stood unarmed surrounded by weapons of choice, he picked up a spear as quick as possible, Auditore took a swift swipe at the spear chopping off the spear head, Borgia panicked once more, the fight was now not in his favour, noticing an axe wedged into a dead assassins back he ripped it out, the blood dripping from the blade of the curved axe. Borgia then took a swing at Auditore, the axe was much lighter than his sword, his fighting style then became weak, the sparks started once more between axe and silver sword, Borgia violently swung the axe down towards Auditore's shoulder with his right hand, a dirty trick he once learned from his father, Borgia then dropped the axe in mid air, the axe then fell into his left hand and landed a hit causing a gash in Auditores right leg, he fell to his knee in shock, Borgia had a few surprises up his sleeve but little did he know Auditore did too. Auditore pulled the axe from his leg and threw it to one side, ripping the fabric from another body's clothing and tied round his open wound, Borgia knelt in front of him to gloat about two hits to none, Auditore smirked and grabbed Borgia's shoulders, Auditore gave a agonising groan as he plummeted his right knee into Borgia's stomach, he staggered back applying pressure to his first shallow wound.
At the age of 12 I witnessed something that made me realise I had to become someone else, the men at the door was here to take my father away for some sort of crime, my mother tried to stop them at the door whilst my dad hurried me into another room, there was shouting and screaming as the two soldiers demanded my father surrenders, its all so clear in my head, something inside me decided to open the door where I was hidden, staring out of the doorway my father shouts at me "Run!" he said, this is the first time I've heard his voice fill with fear, "Get out of here, through the back just run! I will come and find you son. Don't look back just run!" his words not sinking in straight away, I didn't understand, then I was paralyzed, my legs locked in place as though fixed to the floor, my arms feeling heavy, my chest barely breathing, even my eyes couldn't blink as I watched my father get pushed to the floor as he was distracted, my mother in a panic not knowing what to do, she tried to fight back but the soldiers over powered her. A flicker of candle lights bounced of the blade of the hatchet as it was lifted into the air, the light caught my eyes but I couldn't even flinch, the blade cut through the air with such ease, the sound skin breaking, tearing upon impact, the sound of the axe connecting with the bones of my mothers rib cage, the crunching as the blade dislodged itself from within her, my mother scream so deafening to my ears it snapped me out paralysis and before I knew it my feet were running for the back door, I did as I was told and I didn't look back, the last memory of my mother was her scream and the pool of blood in which she lays.
Borgia stares down to his pierced steel armour, fear struck his face before any blade did, the silver kriss knee spikes from Auditore has pierced his armour deep enough to split the skin. The chest to stomach armour plating was thick and sturdy with nothing engraved onto it, he wore a red fabric shirt underneath this armour, his steel gauntlets and shin guards were only slightly patterned with the templar cross centred within both of them, underneath the shin guards he wore the same red fabric trousers, he wore only one shoulder guard on his right side, his armour was basic but has never failed him against any army, until today. Borgia sneakily pulled out his dagger which was sheathed on his belt, he dashed towards Auditore with to tip of the blade thrusting towards him, he blocked the dagger the best he could. Auditore sliced the back of Borgia's hand with one of his hidden blades, he yelped in pain and dropped the dagger, quickly trying to pick the dagger back up without kicking it around too much.
After my mothers death I went rogues, me and my father didn't see each other much, I became a master thief, I took precious things away from people, things they loved so much, just like those men took away someone I loved more than anything in the world. I was on the streets in a city named Tuscany, I was far from home and had no plans in returning any time soon, I sold my takings on the black market for high prices, I may have been a homeless thief but I wasn't poor nor a amateur in the profession. I had a hideout I shared with a few other homeless thieves, we looked out for each other but each kept to their own business. At the age of 16 I travelled a long road on my own back to my village in search of my father, hoping he still lived in the same house I grew up in, I took all my fortunes with me and some prize possessions too, in hopes to sell them in the nearest city to my village, I'll be coming home with more money than what I left with, just in case my father hasn't been able to cope alone. I arrived home after several days, my home looking the same as it did when I left 4 years ago, I knocked on the door with hesitation, not knowing who will be there… My father opened the door and a whirlwind of emotions built up inside me and my eyes started to fill with tears, he spoke softly, his voice so unfamiliar like a strangers, I tried to erase all memories of this place and I was successful apart from one reoccurring memory of my mother and that night.
"Son?! Is that you?" My fathers words were full of hope, full of joy.
"Yes, its me, I'm home and I'm here to stay" my response was slow and stuttered, I was overwhelmed by the site of him, how well he still looked as though nothing ever happened, like I've only been gone for a day or 2 hunting, which often I did but my mother never knew about it.
"Thank god you're OK! Where did you go? I couldn't find you, I searched and searched but you was no where to be seen? I had to stop looking when a job came up but I'm so glad you're OK and safe!" My father rambled on like I've returned from the dead, my emotions seemed to have stopped at that moment, I wasn't a scared kid any more, I've grown up and looked after myself, I did what I had to do to survive even if that meant killing to survive.
Borgia with dagger in hand once more turned to look at his opponent, Auditore's lip was bleeding from the daggers blade, Borgia's hand seeping blood but it didn't seem to concern him, once more their blade collide fast and clean, Borgia was now at a disadvantage with just a dagger but it could be used as advantage too, he was now quick and agile, his speed increased compared to Auditores' and was keeping him on his feet with endless blocks and counters. Borgia attempted another thrust with his blade, Auditore dodging the attack, locking his arm within his own whilst swinging his elbow back in full force, Borgia's nose cracks with a noise that seemed to echo off the walls the same way the death cries of the surrounding warriors did, blood gushing out from his broken nose but he didn't wipe it away, changing the stance of his body and how he now held his dagger downward he ducked and dodged Auditores silver sword as it cut through the air to impale his targeted weakening body, Borgia managed 3 more slices down the sides of Auditore's body, nothing major but still making harmful hits. Three boxes lay silent to their right, all different sizes creating giant steps, Borgia lead Auditore over to them whilst dodging the glimmer of the silver, Borgia jumped up the first two steps , Auditore went to follow but as soon as he got close enough Borgia jumped off with full impact kick with his shin, Borgia's steel shin guards connected with Auditores' head catching just under his temple, he struck the floor with thud and lay lifeless.
One year passed since I came home and I was now 17 years old, this is when my father sat me down in the sitting area to have a talk with me, it seemed serious as he never usually does this, recently he's not been here much and I've been on my own until a few days ago, he was acting different, like he wanted to say something or tell me some secret, he was on edge a lot of the time. He started talking about my mother, I wondered where the conversation was leading, but after a while he told me to follow him, it was only when we was in my parents room did I question him. He pulled a leaver by his wardrobe, instead of the usual double opening the doors on wardrobes the whole thing moved to one side, revealing a shrine if you will, there on a human shaped torso stood immaculate silver engraved armour, and pure silver weapons gently asleep on red velvet crowding the armour. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to ask I just stood there in awe, I was confused how this was kept so quiet for so long. By the age of 21 my father had taught me all he knew, and I was finally ready to become an assassin, my father was becoming ill, he was becoming weak and slowly his younger years were catching up with. Before he passed away he showed me the armour once more, I am the same build as my father and so he gave it to me, he explained about the double hidden blades which both detach into small daggers, he explained the big dagger that he had made from silver especially for him, and lastly he gave me the blade that was passed down from ancestors, the pure silver blade from handle to tip had no wrapping of leather or patterns on the blade itself, it was a simple design yet practical, the bottom of the handle was shaped into a Eagle head and the handle was horizontally lined for grip. He told me to be the greatest there is, and that's what I plan to be.
Auditores' body was limp on the floor, unconscious, Borgia took advantage of this state to get a few kicks in to his stomach and ribs. Auditore slowly waking up from his silly mistake and the kick to the head, he was out for a maximum of 5 minutes, yet wondered why Borgia didn't kill him in that time. Borgia dragged Auditore to his feet to make him stand, barely being able to stand after his concussion Auditore's vision was blurred for a few moments, suddenly a body came flying towards Borgia, one of Auditore's assassins was helping without physically getting involved himself. Borgia hit the ground with one of his dead soldiers on top of him, pushing him off ready to fight again, this gave Auditore a minute or two to regain the focus he has to win the fight against the Papal army Leader. Both Auditore and Borgia now alert and ready to end this once and for all. Dagger in hand Borgia runs towards him at full speed in hopes to shatter Auditores armour and leave his intestines on the pebbled floor, a swift jump to the side from Auditore and a clean hit to the back of Borgia's neck with the base of his silver sword, the eagle digging deep into his neck briefly and sending him to the floor again, the energy now seeping out of both men so eager to stay alive, it all comes down to one last moment. Borgia moves fast and throws the dagger at Auditore, the dagger pierces into his shoulder, blood surrounding the wound against his white robes, he pulls the dagger out and throws at the floor in front of Borgia, wanting a equal fight he will not kill Borgia unarmed, he picks up the dagger one last time. Auditore sheathed his sword and switches to his dagger, both men commence in battle, Auditore ducks under Borgia's attack and impales the dagger through his right arm, killing the nerves and deeming it useless, Borgia screams in pain yet finds the strength to switch to his left hand, Auditore unsheathed his sword so silently and forces it into Borgia's left shoulder, thus severing the nerves in his left arm, Borgia now feeling useless and begs for his life, Auditore thrusts both his arms in one swift movement to reveal the two hidden blades from the shadows, detaching the blades into small daggers, separately the tip of both blades connect to Borgias' thighs, once more killing off both nerves to his legs, Borgia now on his knees with all four major limbs useless and paralysed, begging for his life, for mercy. Auditore walk up to Borgia and whispers in his ear,
"Did your fathers' army give my mother mercy when they murdered her?" pure anger arose in his voice.
Borgia now panicked, fear was all he could feel in his lifeless body, "Please! I'm nothing like my father! Cesare Borgia was a monster."
Auditore chuckles "So are you Giovanni Borgia. Remember my name, in vengeance of my mother, I am Dante Auditore da Firenze"
Looking over towards the boxes used to knock him unconscious, he picks up a spear, Giovanni Borgia begging, pleading for his life behind him. He jumps up the two boxes, taking a deep breathe in he jumps off towards his limp body, in mid-air he releases the spear with all his strength towards him, the spear ripping through his throat, impaling the floor behind him.