Assassin's Creed: Vengeance
Bitter Winter
November 24th, 2017
New York City, New York
Kristoff awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He fought through the glare that pierced the darkness of his apartment to see Lexie was calling him, he answered and responded with an extremely groggy hello.
"We have a problem." Lexie said over the phone.
Kristoff sat up, slightly more awake now. "What's going on?"
Lexie made a sound of exasperation. "I detected a breach in our servers and have been up all fucking night trying to keep them from the information you've gathered. They figured out it was censored and are looking for the real thing."
"So, they know I'm helping you?" Kristoff asked.
"Seems likely, but I don't think they know you know they know. Y'know?"
"No." Lexie's babbling lost him entirely.
"Keep sending them stuff, you're literally right on the edge of finding where the Ankh is hidden, maybe one or two Sequences away. Maybe I can hold off their dumbass eggheads long enough to give us some breathing room."
Kristoff sighed. "I guess I'm going to work early and leaving late?"
"For the next few days till the Ankh is in Assassin hands."
"Wait, wouldn't they be able to trace this call?"
"Not if I don't want them to. Now get some clothes on and get to the studio ASAP."
"How do you know I'm not wearing clothes?" Kristoff asked, rather frightened now.
"I had a camera hidden in your apartment. Don't worry, I'll have it removed when we win."
"Comforting thought."
Kristoff heard the click of the call being dropped and he hastened to get to work and find the location of the Ankh before Abstergo got into the files he'd given to the Assassins. He had maybe days to go through two Sequences which is definitely a lot but he was pretty experienced with the Animus and was confident he could pull it off.
/
December 2nd, 1796
Huningue, France
Arno and August watched as several thousands of Austrian soldiers laid siege to the town of Huningue, it had been nearly two months since Moreau was assassinated by August and he'd agreed to assist Arno with finishing the fight between him and the Brothers of the Cross. It was night and snow had begun to fall, softly at first, but soon it was coming down rather hard.
"Look." August pointed out.
Arno looked over to the far side of the rampart alongside Huningue, he saw a makeshift battering ram creating a sizeable hole in defenses.
"The soldiers will make a distraction, while we slip into the fort and find Abbatucci." Arno said.
"Sollen wir?" (Shall we?)
"Nous devons." (We shall.)
The two Assassins made their way down to the group of soldiers who were making their way through the narrow breach in the wall. The streets of Huningue were tight and narrow and combat in the streets would mean almost certain death for either of them. The Assassins in traditional fashion took to the rooftops and swiftly made their way to the fort which was a dark silhouette in the night sky.
Getting inside the fort was easy enough. The snow storm overhead was wreaking havoc on the visibility which worked towards the Assassin's advantage. Arno with his Gift and August was just a good listener. He could hear a rather annoying voice barking orders and strutting around the fort like a peacock.
"Les Autrichiens seront bientôt dans ces murs si nous ne prenons pas le rythme, regardez-vous! Vous êtes des excuses piteuses de la puissante armée française!" (The Austrians will be within these walls soon if you do not pick up the pace. Look at you! You are pitiful excuses of the mighty French army!)
It was the same voice Arno had heard while he sat in a closet in Cologne several months ago. It was easy to confirm this was Abbatucci. Suddenly, a cry came out from one of the riflemen on the roof and an explosion knocked a chunk the fort's wall.
The French soldiers rushed to meet the enemy, as Arno watched, he saw a stray musket ball fired from the rifle of a scared Frenchman hit Abbatucci square in the chest. He fell to the cold stone and laid there for several moments.
"Merde, he will die if I do nothing." Arno said to August.
Arno jumped onto the wall and quietly dispatched of a French soldier in clothes of similar size to his own. He hastily put on the uniform and slipped into the combat unrecognized. He rushed to Abbatucci's side and picked him up. Arno carried the young Templar into the depths of the fort, and located a small medical wing.
He placed Abbatucci on a surgery bed. Abbatucci grabbed the arm of what he thought was a loyal French militant.
"Thank you, my friend. I owe you a great debt." Abbatucci said weakly.
"Then you can do me a favor, monsieur Abbatucci." Arno said.
Abbatucci smiled. "Anything, mon ami."
Arno turned serious instantaneously. "Where are the Brothers of the Cross?"
Abbatucci's smile faded into a scowl. "You ask me to betray my brothers on my death bed? You must think me a fool…"
Arno grabbed the injured man's throat. "I'd think you a fool to refuse. Where are they?"
"Go to hell."
August entered the room, still dressed in his robes. "Your mistress wouldn't be pleased if you died here, would she? What would she do with those three children of her's? She cannot raise them alone."
"You stay away from her!" Abbatucci shouted before beginning to favor his abdominal wound. "Ehrenbreitstein fortress! A few hundred kilometers from here! That's where they are excavating! Damn you Assassins to hell!"
Arno smiled and stood up. "Thank you, Jean Charles. You've made the world a better place. Repose en paix."
Abbatucci laughed and shook his head as he succumbed to his wounds. Arno walked over to where August was standing.
"We're that close, are we not?" August asked.
"So close to the final goal." Arno replied.
August smiled. "Here, the Austrians have captured the fort. Can't have you parading around in French garb."
Arno nodded. "No, we cannot."
/
Christmas Day, 1796
Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, Germany
This was it, Arno was mere meters away from the goal that had eluded him for the better part of a year. The last time he had seen Shay or Iolar was back in June when he followed them to Cologne in the back of a wagon. Now, he and August were standing just half a mile from where Ehrenbreitstein sat perched on a ledge overlooking the Rhine river.
From where they stood, the two Assassins could hear the sounds of men digging and excavating, cursing, and yelling at each other. The two Assassins made their way silently into the fortress via a window along the main battery that had been left open and unguarded. Inside, the sound was even worse, piercing, like nails on a chalkboard.
"What is the plan?" August said as they crept through the narrow halls.
"You'll take Iolar, Shay is mine." Arno said with contempt.
They moved around the fortress for several more minutes. Any guards that got in their way were dispatched with ease. Soon, they found within the great hall of Ehrenbreitstein, a large hole that had been dug. The hole shrunk down to what looked like an ancient doorway. They walked through and found it was a series of chambers adorned with the symbols of the Assassin Order.
Then, blocking their path was a group of guards led by a tall young man with the signature Cormac hair, dark as night. And stoic features that could kill. A spitting image of his father, Iolar was.
"Arno. It's been a long time, and you brought a friend. Who are you?"
August sneered at the young Templar. "August Steigen, so you're the pompous brat I've heard so much about."
Iolar's stoic features turned red in embarrassment. "Your quips get you nowhere, Assassin. My father will have the Ankh, you cannot hope to stop him."
August leaned over to Arno. "Go find Cormac, I'll deal with the boy."
Arno advanced on the group and the stepped aside, including Iolar. He growled as Arno passed. "My father is going to kill you, Assassin."
Arno smiled at the boy. "Keep telling yourself that, Iolar."
Arno heard the clash of swords behind him as he advanced forward towards the central chamber. It became obvious to Arno that this place was a burial site for Assassins with all the symbols lining the walls and statues of hooded men with robes that span centuries. Coffins marked with the names of famous Assassins of the Germanic Brotherhood. In the center was the one labeled "Lukas Zurburg." It was open and nothing remained except the skeleton of Zurburg himself.
Shay's voice echoed through the chamber. "Impressive, isn't it? The fact that this place has remained hidden underneath the feet of thousands for four hundred years."
Arno whirled around but found no body to match the voice. Shay continued to speak. "This artifact, this Ankh. It is a sight to behold. But, I know the truth about these things. Machines the Precursors never meant for us to find. The Pieces of Eden."
"I've seen the power of these Pieces of Eden before. The Sword." Arno said as he remembered the burst of light killing his love… Elise…
Shay stepped from the shadows, the Ankh in his hands. It resembled a Christian cross but the top arm was a loop and it was made of gold, or a metal that resembled gold. The Ankh glowed with an intense power.
"Then, you know the hands of the Assassins aren't fit to wield them. I was at Lisbon many years ago. I saw what they did, my brothers killed thousands of innocent people. And they stood by and watched." Shay said through gritted teeth.
Arno drew his sabre. "I cannot allow you to leave here with the Ankh, Shay."
Shay drew his own sword. "Then you will die down here, Arno Victor Dorian."
The two adversaries threw themselves at each other. Arno had the advantage of youth and speed, whilst Shay used experience, insight, and technical prowess to defend against the much younger man's attacks. They moved throughout the chamber in their duel 20 years in the making.
As their swords clashed, sparks rained onto the stones above. Each combatant's guard would lower for a split second. Long enough for the other to get in a well-placed strike or knick. After what felt like an eternity of fighting, they were both bloodied and out of breath.
Arno and Shay locked swords once again. Shay twisted his own around and the outward spiralling hilt caught Arno's and sent his sword flying. Arno grabbed Shay's arm in response and gave the Templar a swift headbutt, wrenching his sword from his hands and tossing it aside. Leaving them both unarmed. Shay's hidden blade slide out and Arno's did the same.
The two warriors clashed again but with stronger, faster strokes with their short blades. Arno did a dive roll around Shay's flank and dug his blade into Shay knee. Shay cried out in pain and slashed wildly, catching Arno in his shoulder.
Arno dropped a smoke bomb; the last he had, and disappeared into the darkness of the tomb. Shay looked around, limping but still very much in the fight.
"You know my words to be true, Arno! Your Creed will betray you! They shall put their own agenda over your life and the lives of the innocents and the people you love! They are not fit to have the Ankh and will not allow them to have it! Even if I must kill you, I will do so gladly."
Arno had had enough of listening, he dropped from where he was perched on the ceiling and landed atop the Templar. Shay fell to the floor with the Assassin on top of him. Arno stomped on Shay's hidden blade, destroying it. Arno brought his own hidden blade inches from Shay's face at stayed there for several moments as both men caught their breath, Arno's once secure hood had dropped at some point in the fight, revealing his long brown hair.
"So," Shay said. "This is how it'll end for me?"
Arno tensed up but didn't reply.
"I dedicated my life to the cause that I believed in, not the one that I benefited from. Can you say the same, Arno? Can you say you truly believe in the Creed? I swore the same oath you did when I was a boy. Uphold justice, stay my blade from the flesh of the innocent... I upheld that Creed whilst those I called brothers broke it. So I made another oath, an oath to the dead men, women, and children in Lisbon. That I'd never let the Assassins do anywhere else what they did there. So go on, I know you don't want to kill me because I am an Assassin turned Templar. You want to kill me because twenty years ago, I killed someone near and dear to you. So, just do it boy. Do it!"
Arno didn't move, he thought for a long time. Then, the blade returned into Arno's gauntlet and was gone. Arno stood up from where Shay lay.
"No," Arno said. "All my life, I've hated you for killing my father. Just as I've hated Germain for killing my Elise. And while I shall never stop hating you, it is time I moved on. Forgave. My time being selfish is over."
Arno turned around and began walking out of the chamber. Shay fought to his knees and shouted at the Assassin.
"That Ankh doesn't belong to you! It belongs with the Templars!" he screame at Arno.
Arno stopped in the doorway of the chamber. He looked down at the object he'd sacrificed so much to obtain and realized it wasn't worth it. He turned and threw the ancient object at Shay's feet and left. He walked out to where August had Iolar subdued. Injured and angy, but alive.
"Let him go." Arno said.
"What?" August said.
"Let's go, we're done here." replied Arno.
August glanced down at the young Templar and let him go, he took off towards the chamber and his father.
"The Ankh?"
Arno shook his head. "Some things aren't worth sacrificing your life over."
Arno turned to leave. August turned and followed. "Wait, Arno."
Arno stopped. "Yes?"
"I still need a favor."
/
June 14th, 1800
Spinetta Marengo, Italy
I still need a favor. The words August had said to him before they parted ways in Ehrenbreitstein. Well, today Arno would uphold his word.
He stood on a rooftop overlooking a large courtyard. French soldiers were everywhere surrounded by cheering civilians. At the center of it all on a large platform was Louis Desaix. He was the leader of the French forces in Italy under Napoleon Bonaparte and the people loved him.
Desaix's death would be a major hit to his own country but the Creed was worth more to him than his country. He prepared the powder in his long musket and readied the musket ball. Slowly, he loaded it in and prepared to fire.
Down in the square, Louis Desaix noticed the hooded figure standing on the roof with a musket and realized his time had finally come. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and raised his sabre to the sky.
"There is yet time to win another battle!" Desaix shouted.
Nobody heard the musket firing over the sound of the crowd. The only thing that tipped them off was seeing Desaix's body falling to the wooden platform. Many of the soldiers, who had just witnessed their leader be shot dead, turne and fired upon the Assassin as he turned and ran off. Beginning the long journey back to Paris.
/
June 14th, 1800
Cairo, Egypt
August awaited the arrival of the Assassin who'd assist him on this mission. He had infiltrated the Palace of Alfi bik easy enough, now it was time to end the life of the final name on his list; Jean-Baptiste Kleber. He'd evaded August's blade for four years and now, he'd finally end it.
Suleiman al-Halabi came from the shadows and entered the alcove where August was hiding. "Everything is ready." Suleiman said.
August put a hand on Suleiman's shoulder. "I cannot thank you enough for this."
Suleiman smiled. "You will not have to."
Suleiman clambered over a roof and dropped down into one of the Palace's gardens. He waited for several moments before Kleber arrived in the gardens, taking an early morning walk. Suleiman approached the French general and took his hand. Acting like he was begging for food.
"Please, sir. I have a family and have not eaten in days."
"Éloignez-vous de moi, paysagain dégoûtant!" Kleber shouted at Suleiman.
August came out from nowhere and forced his hidden blade into Kleber's heart. The Templar gasped and fell to the ground. Someone must have noticed because there was a scream and guards came rushing into the gardens.
Suleiman stepped in front of August. "Get out of here!"
"Suleiman-"
"Go! Now!"
Suleiman stayed for fight off the guards as August made his escape, he watched from nearby as Suleiman was captured and dragged away by the Palace guards. Another name off the list, the warpath was over. Now, there was only one thing left to finish. August started a long journey all the way to Ireland, for he was once again going after the Cormac family.
