Cappadocia, Turkey
1511
A city in the ground, embellished by lanterns and flames of the brightest sort. No light from the sun penetrated the natural fortress that was Cappadocia, but despite this, it was a sight to behold. No matter how bright the lights, everything seemed so somber- so tenebrous. There would be no solace in the fire for these people, no matter how intensely they wished for it.
The citizens of the hidden city had formed an uneasy and silent truce with the Templar faction bunking there- they would not lock eyes with one another, nor speak with one another. The people continued their lives and the Templars continued their activities.
And the silence remained unshattered by anyone.
Until a raid had captured a single Assassin.
When news of this capture had reached Shahkulu's ears, a dark smile had plastered itself to his face beneath the heavy-duty Turkish helmet he wore at all times.
At long last, a piece of worthy flesh to wring information from.
Attentive as his soldiers dragged in the battered and bruised body of their prisoner, the Turk stepped down from the rocky platform upon which the prison cells surrounded them in a dark and ill-lighted cavern. The Assassin was clad in Ottoman robes, hood up, head hanging, and not a word escaped his mouth, nor a movement of his bones.
Perfect.
Shahkulu hissed in his mind bitterly, advancing towards the restrained vigilante.
Crouching, he dipped a hand down to grab the scum by the face, lifting the head to get a better look-
And he immediately drew back in surprise.
A woman.