Please forgive me for any geographical inaccuracies that may occur. I'm not English or Welsh ;)


The cold, harsh climate of the Welsh mountains bit into Evie's skin. She wrapped the heavy cloak around herself more tightly to no avail. The wind was howling in her ears as she struggled through the deserted land. The snow was thickly laid and her boots slipped and sunk constantly. She had been trekking through the snow for hours now. On top of that, the backpack she carried was slowing her progress. The pale evening sun was about to set and Evie knew the mountains were dangerous during nights. Wolves and snow leopards made their homes in these lands and the blasts of icy winds alone could kill a person without shelter.

Luck was on her side, Evie found a small cove that was sheltered from the wind. A rivulet flowed a few meters from the cove entrance and the old bones and banana peels made it obvious that this cove had been used before by men seeking shelter. She gathered some dry branches and started a small fire. It took only a few tries before Evie caught a fairly large salmon which she roasted over the fire. Wary of bandits and wild animals, she tied a string to two posts and strung about small scraps of metal on the string. The enclosed cove magnified even the tiniest sounds. If the string was tripped, the metal scraps would clink together and sound an alarm. She reached into her backpack and laid out a thick fur mat on the floor and covered herself with a fur blanket. With her belly full and a dying fire to keep her warm, Evie fell to a light and troubled sleep.

She awoke the next morning to loud noises. It took her mere seconds to reach from a state of sleep to battle ready. Such was the training of an assassin of her skill. Carefully, she peered out of the cove and listened for the source of the disturbance. It was a caravan passing through the mountains. She checked her weapons and packed her sleeping gear and carefully made her way to the caravan. Two armed men were driving it. They wore heavy cloaks and a cape. On the cape was a logo. It was a silver dagger with a bloodied handle.

So these are the Silver-Bloods.

Two months ago, the Assassin spy network had intercepted a letter on a Templar courier. It had instructions from a mysterious benefactor and proof of payments made to a Mercenary faction named the Silver-Bloods. The letter hadn't revealed much, except that the Silver-Bloods were to provide their services to a group of historians, archeologists and miners that the Templars had sent on an operation in the Welsh mountains. Since the assassination of Crawford Starrick, the Assassins of London had been keeping a close eye for any Templar activity inside England or near her territories. The Templars had all been wiped out of London and Jacob and Evie wanted to use this momentum to drive the Templars away from England for good. Immediately after the letter had been interpreted, Jacob had wanted to travel to Wales. However it was George Westhouse who had volunteered for a reconnaissance mission. Evie and Jacob had both voiced their concerns to George that he was getting old for such a dangerous mission. George had laughed off their concerns and after promising to write as quickly as he could, he had left for Wales. It had been three weeks since George's last letter. The last time he wrote, George had mentioned a small fishing village at the foot of the mountains that the Silver-Bloods were stationed in. He wrote that the path to the village was heavily guarded and that it was almost impossible to determine what the Templars were searching for.

Evie was worried that the Silver-Bloods had captured George. After losing their father, George was the closest thing they had to a guardian and Evie would not let him suffer under the Templars. Keeping low, Evie followed the caravan as it made its descent towards a makeshift road down the mountain. The drivers made small talk and made boring remarks about the weather. But to Evie, who was always perceptive and resourceful, their conversation gave her plenty of useful information.

She now knew how the weather changed in these parts and when snow storms were most likely to hit. She knew how often the caravans brought supplies and which roads were usually overrun with bandits. Jacob would just have killed these men and proceeded towards the village blindly. The thought brought a grin to her face and she realized how stiff her facial muscles had become due to the cold. She followed the caravan for the better part of the morning and stopped when she spotted the village from afar. She debated about entering the village and decided not to. Until she knew how closely the Silver-Bloods monitored the village, she would not risk exposing herself. So she waited for a few hours. Just like the men in the caravan had predicted, a snow storm began at around 4 in the evening. Using the heavy storm as cover, Evie approached the edge of the village. She layed low and took shelter at a clump of bushes and fished out her spy-glass.

These are no ordinary mercenaries. The men were still actively patrolling the streets, braving the heavy snow without complaint. She noticed that they had built small watch posts on every turn. The small roads were always covered by the watch posts when the patrols weren't. They had powerful rifles strung on their shoulders and revolvers on their belt buckles. For practicality, they even carried swords and cutlasses, which she knew were in case the snow dampened the gunpowder and the mercenaries had to engage in melee combat. The men were powerfully built and Evie knew that despite their size, they could move like dancers. These weren't London thugs who relied on savagery and brute force. These were battle-hardened soldiers who had had years of training and experience. The men carried out regular patrols and walked in tight formations. Evie knew that she couldn't take on all these men in direct combat. She would have to careful while infiltrating their main camp. A large makeshift wooden house had been built along the edges of the small, frozen pond. It must have been recently made since part of the roof was covered by a tarp. The walls were compact and the little holes had been stuffed with fur and twigs. The house itself was like a large hall. It could easily accommodate 20 men. Carefully, Evie drew out a small piece of paper and began sketching a rough map of the village. She marked the guard posts and the patrol routes. She would return later tonight and look for clues about George.

With her approach planned out, Evie hiked back up. She found a small cave up in the mountains and proceeded to apply the measures she had taken the night before. She would sleep for a couple hours and enter the village at night. There would be no moon tonight and she would sneak through the patrols. With this thought in her mind she fell asleep.


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