He tugged quietly on the chains of the manacles, testing them. Finding weaknesses in the chain, the brace, the wall. Searching calmly, quietly. Twisting them this way and that, methodically surveying how he could see about retaining his freedom from this dungeon. He reached his right hand out, spreading his fingers wide and allowing them to stretch. Satisfied he curled his middle and index finger around the base of his thumb. He dislocated his thumb so it looked like it was based in the center of his hand. He smiled slightly as he pulled his hand out of the now to large manacle with no difficulty. Sighing he pushed the dislocated digit back to it's original position with a slight grimace. Turning his attention to the left manacle he stretched his four fingers into a straight line and then cupped the tips together, his pinky curved in farther then it normally would have had he still had his ring finger. His hand slid out with only a minor cut for his efforts. Altaïr was freed from the cold iron of his former bonds. He turned his attention to the door's old lock.
The thing most likely had not been used in a decade; it was an old style lock that was not well maintained. This likely meant that the owners of this... place had not had company down here in some time. Altaïr slipped a hand into his boot and pulled out a set of basic lock picks, he hadn't used the things in ages but still he kept them just in case. Gently inserting the picks into the lock and working them in a descending pattern he heard a satisfying click as the lock popped and he returned the picks to their place. He quielty slipped into the corridor; it extended some 100 feet before cutting a sharp right angle. Altaïr glanced down the hallway, it was long and wide, there was a door every 20 feet or so. Listening intently he heard voices behind the nearest set of doors,
"Her ladyship wishes the assassin to cooperate. We're supposed to keep a constant guard on him but I don't think that's necessary. No one's managed to escape from this place yet, don't see why she thinks he would." Another voice joined in,
"Will you stop your prattling I've got a game of dice to win." The sound of dice being rolled was the next thing Altaïr heard, followed shortly by some small cheers and a few grumbles. Altaïr began listening intently for sounds that might betray his presence. Hearing nothing he turned to continue down the hall. The farther down the corridor he crept the more he heard the sounds of sleeping. Rancorous snoring from one room, nothing from some of the others; a gentle moan of pleasure here or there, lovers apparently not wanting to wake those around them by the sounds of it. He shrugged and continued on along the winding hall. Before too long had past he heard the sound of booted feet tramping from farther up the corridor, there was no alcove to disappear into, only a medley of doors. Altaïr went for the nearest door with no sound coming from behind it and slipped in, a shadow among shadows. Again gently closing the door Altaïr turned around to see where he was.
A bedroom by all appearances, a large bed occupied much of the room, soft linen curtains hiding what lie within it. A small bureau hugged the wall, next to it a shelf wearing its share of books and scrolls. Beside that was a stack of gear piled neatly in a corner, his gear. Without a moment's hesitation he fetched the blades and armor, donning his attire and feeling the comforting weight of the blade in his gauntlet. He paused his equipping long enough to admire the cold steel. He turned the blade over, admiring the slight etchings of past battles, the gently curve of the sharpened edge. The tip was razor sharp and had many kills to its name. Altaïr glanced at the door then quickly finished reequipping himself. A slight movement drew Altaïr's eyes, his head snapped back towards the bed and he leaned in closer to see if he'd been detected. A woman moaned slightly in her sleep and rolled over, facing him.
His heart skipped a beat; it was the same woman as before. Her silver hair laying about her figure delicately in soft rivers flowing about her form. Before he could leave the room he stepped on a discarded piece of fabric and heard the broach within it shatter from his weight. He half cursed as her eyes snapped open and she started to spin for her blade laying in easy reach on the bedside table, leaping forward Altaïr caught her wrists as she started to reach for her sword. Her mouth opened and he pressed his fully against it to keep her from screaming. She was already ready to kill him, to hell with keeping him alive. Her eyes glared at him in cold fury, flashing dangerously.
If looks could kill Altaïr would have fallen to the ground dead.
She had been having a rather pleasant dream when she was awaken rather rudely and by the last person she was expecting. The assassin stood over her when she opened her eyes she had opened her mouth to scream. The Bastard had grabbed her wrists as she'd reached for the blade at her side and prevented her from screaming by forcing his tounge into her mouth. She felt his hips land hard on top of hers and she couldn't contain a sudder. Her face flushed red with embarrassment and her body went stiff with a murderous rage that could only be directed at him.
Altaïr had lept up onto the bed to reach her quickly, of course he had also landed on her to keep the volitile woman from kicking at him. Both his hands had reached out to grasp her wrists and hold them poised above her head before she could pick something up to kill him with. His legs stradled her hips as he knelt above her holding her down with the weight of his body, and jamming his mouth against hers since that was about all he could do to silence her without killing her, seeing as she apparently had all the answers the assassin needed. She seemed suddenly far more docile and he realized why within a few seconds.
The only thing between their two bodies were his white robes.
Ok so I hope this one kinda makes up for Chp. 2 not being up to snuff. But at least now I know where I'm going to take this story. Also please review and let me know what parts could use some fixing or ya'll think could be better. Thanks all for reading this story of mine!
-Shadow Master Talon
