The Hidden Blades of Asshai

by phoenixforce50

Cristoff Malekan loses his family to his own brash foolishness, his lord father leaves him with a blade to defend himself and some gold to stay alive. Hiding in Asshai, in a city patrolled by the men who killed his family he struggles to survive without anymore bloodshed. Desperate, he turns to the Assassin brotherhood, who take him in and lead him on a path to redemption.

1. Chapter 1

The Hidden Blades of Asshai

Chapter 1: When the Walls Fall Down

Death and suffering have been my constant companions.

I have seen beggars starve while fat men laugh at them while they walk past.

I have watched, as Dothraki burned and raped women.

I have witnessed the sinking of a ship off the coast of the Iron islands, scores drowned at sea.

I wept as my family was brutally murdered because of my insolence.

Their blood is on my hands, and now I have no house, no friends and no family.

My name is Cristoff Malekan, and I am an Assassin.

"Are you Cristoff Malekan?" asked the guard as Cristoff passed him through the market.

"Yes, why?" replied Cristoff

The guard drew his shortsword in answer and made to stab Cristoff. Cristoff jumped backwards with a look of bewilderment on his face while the guard followed up with a diagonal cut from shoulder to hip, which Cristoff turned sideways to avoid.

"What have I done-" began Cristoff, but the guard lunged for him with a growl.

People in the market where now beginning to run away screaming, many leaving their goods scattered around the market. The guard made for another swipe but lost his footing as he tripped over a round fruit underfoot. The guard managed to hold on to his sword while he fell, and Cristoff weighed his options: stay and fight, or run and- the man began to get back up, so Cristoff ran, straight down the craftsman's road, barrelling through people and packhorses, vaulting over barrels and then the children rolling them. The guard was surprisingly fast, though, and he managed to keep Cristoff in sight at all times. As the crowds began to thin, Cristoff ran past another guard, who saw his companion chasing him and joined in, throwing a knife at Cristoff's head. It hit him with the end of the pommel and knocked him to the ground in front of a blacksmith's. The forge was hot and it burned Cristoff's face. He scrambled back up and found the two guards circling him like two wolves. He backed up against the anvil, where he desperately reached behind him for some kind of weapon, finished or otherwise. His fingers wrapped around two metal rods and he swung them around in front, intercepting another knife throw from the second guard and clouting the first with the follow-through. Cristoff realised he'd picked up a pair of tongs, which were already slightly dented from the superior metals. The second guard was out of knives so he drew a mace and made to bash Cristoff's head in. Cristoff held the tongs with both hands and their length gave him the advantage of reaching the guard's wrists before he was smashed by his mace. Cristoff forced the guard's arms up and squeezed with both hands on each end of the tongs, crushing the guard's wrists and breaking the bones with an audible cracks. The guard fell back cursing in a foreign accent before retreating. The first guard swung his sword at Cristoff's head. Cristoff realised just in time and only had the top of his hair cut off, and closed the tongs on the man's thick ankle. He knew he wouldn't be able to break it from the angle he was bent at, so he simply righted himself while holding on tight. The guard went down with a surprised noise, dropping his sword. Cristoff picked it up and quickly plunged it through the man's throat. The guard made gurgling noises as the blade pinned his neck into the ground and finally died, blood leaking from the wound.

"Oh gods, what have I done? I need to keep away from the markets if the guards can recognise me on sight." Mused Cristoff. He turned and saw the blacksmith walking back to his forge, noticing the dead guard and the other fleeing. Cristoff suddenly snapped back into the present and quickly scaled the two-story smithy and fled over the rooftops.

On another rooftop, a mysterious man watched him go.

"Hm, this one has talent. He is like tongs that he wields; unusual yet effective, yet easily manipulated by superior force. I will look into it further." The man pulled up the hood of his cloak and dropped into the alley behind him and blended into the crowd.

Cristoff reached his family's house in Asshai. It was old and needed repairs, but since his entire house was murdered because of his recklessness, he had no money to pay for them.

"What am I to do with myself?" he asked, as he sat himself down onto the hard stone bench in the kitchen, pondering his next move.

Meanwhile, other men prepared to watched his every move.