Ziio; 15 November 1754, Lexington, Massachusetts

The weather was beginning to get cold and the sun was setting; snow had begun to fall as well. Ziio pulled her furskin tighter around her shoulders as she trudged up the soft white hill. Once she reached the top, she looked down at the vast expense bellow her. Everywhere was covered in sheets of pure white snow. It was quite beautiful in her eyes, actually. Ziio had always had history with snow, well... her Kanien'kehá:ka name meant "Beautiful Snow" in the first place! Her mother taught her that snow, though alluring, was deadly. It killed slowly, putting its victims to sleep, then lowering their body temperatures until it became low… too low. Once they fell asleep, it seeped the life from their bodies. Because of the delicacy and horror of the almost seemingly magical snow, the tribe had taught Ziio how to survive in cold and harsh weathers. Always wear or bring extra furs and protection, wear proper snow shoes, have weapons ready.

Looking downward, Ziio saw that several meters ahead on the ground level was a small town, which housed a pub called "The Wright Tavern." Ziio knew that this joint was a common place for British soldiers to converse, drink, and share information. It was the perfect place for her plan!

She pointed down and said, "That town hosts soldiers who seek to drive my people from these lands. They're led by a man known as 'The Bulldog.'"

"Edward Braddock..." Haytham answered with a longing and slightly venomous tone.

Ziio already felt uncomfortable standing next to Haytham, let alone having allied with him on this "mission." She felt a surge of annoyance and meager anger through her body after hearing THAT name and knowing that this man next to her knows and possibly has been associated with The Bulldog.

Defensively, she said, "You know him?"

"He is no friend of mine," Haytham said, looking at Ziio with a shared hatred for Braddock. This did help calm down Ziio's nerves, if only for a little bit. At least this man dislikes him, too, she thought.

"Every day, more and more of my people are lost to men like him," she explained, with malice dripping in her voice.

Haytham made a suggestion, "Then I suggest we put an end to it. Together."

Ziio was a bit unsure at the last part of his idea, but she decided that if it benefited her people, then she would work with him.

"What do you propose?" she inquired.

"That we kill Edward Braddock. But first, we have to find him."

The snow was starting to pick up its speed. Ziio took a couple steps forward, close to the overhang of the hill. She glanced downward. Below, there was a conveniently placed haystack, covered in snow. Holding her arms out spread and closing her eyes, she leaped. The wind and snow rushed against her face. Ziio's mother had told her about this move called the "Leap of Faith." Though the other tribespeople, taught her how to hunt, the Clan Mother was the only person that taught her how to perform this useful little tactic.

She landed with a THUMP! into the haystack. When Ziio opened her eyes, there was darkness. She always loved the adrenaline and excitement of a Leap of Faith. Ziio hoisted herself out of the cart and jumped onto the ground. She then proceeded towards the tavern. Right as she took her first step, she heard the familiar thumping sound again. Turning around, she saw Haytham get out of the haystack, adjusting his hat. She almost wanted to laugh at how the tricorn never got lost. When he stood up, he gave her a smirk. Immediately the humor stopped and she bore a frown upon her face. What does he want? Does he think that he can challenge her?

"I don't trust you," Ziio said plainly.

"I know," he responded.

This made her blood boil. He was way too laid back. But she didn't show it.

She tried to counter him, "Yet you remain."

"That I might prove you wrong."

Prove her wrong? What did he mean by that? Though she was willing to work with him, she would stay by her word and NEVER trust him or ANY other Englishman, even if he helped the tribe.

"It will not happen."

"So you say."

"So I know."

"Yet… I remain," Haytham said.

Ziio gave him a strong, spiteful glare. This man was seriously pushing her buttons right now, and she did not like it one bit. She knew that it was better to keep her anger at a minimum for now, because the two of them were about to enter the bar.

Haytham spoke, "Wait here. A Mohawk woman is likely to raise suspicions - if not muskets."

Ziio scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes, "This is hardly the first time I've been amongst your people. I can handle myself." She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle shove, entering the tavern. Honestly, she thought, why did he even care so much? The only contact they had had was at Southgate Fort and a couple minutes ago on top of the hill. Ziio heard a soft "I hope so," right as she entered the pub. What she also heard was the sound of voices dropping as the men glared right at her. A Mohawk woman in a tavern filled with men and English soldiers. What a sight.

As she got herself fixated at the bar table, the conversation and voices resumed once more. She scanned the room, and spotted three cliques of Redcoats. One group was to her left, another behind her, and one across the room near the window. The doors of the tavern opened and Haytham stepped in. He decided to go to the bar table as well, and eavesdropped on the soldiers' conversation.

Ziio ordered a drink, then got up and sat at the table behind her. She could hear every word the Redcoats were saying.

"Ugh, I can't stand being quartered there. The endless crashing of the waves. The sting of the salt in my eyes. And the goddamn gulls shrieking and shitting everywhere!" one soldier complained.

Another one of his friends asked, "You're sure that's where we're going?"

"Aye. The Bulldog's putting together another 'expedition.'"

After listening to the men's talk, Ziio walked over the bar table again, asking for another drink to not seem suspicious. She looked behind her across the room and saw Haytham leaning silently against the window between two men. To his right were another group of British soldiers. Over the loud tavern, she was only able to catch a few words about how the French were preparing to move onto British positions and that Braddock had already left for the advancement camp. Haytham left his place by the window and looked over to Ziio. He motioned for her to join him, as they finally got all the intelligence they needed. She stood up to walk to him.

"Oi! Where you goin', cully?!" a voice angrily called out, right as Haytham was about to place his hand on the handle.

"Me?" he asked cluelessly.

The voice, who belonged to one of the English soldiers, said, "No, the other cock robin."

Haytham cleared his throat, "Well, I was leaving."

"Oh, and now?" the man taunted.

"Well now… I'm going to feed you your teeth," he said in an extremely dark and hate-filled voice.

Ziio was shocked, to say the least. She never knew Haytham had such sass in him! The least she could do now was to stay out of sight and lend him moral support. She had a slight feeling that he might actually win this fight against six other soldiers.

"And you were worried I was going to be the problem?" Ziio asked coyly with a smirk on her face as she left the vicinity and headed for shelter at the bar table once again.

She watched as Haytham readied for the brawl. The first soldier charged at him, only to be sucker punched in the gut. The Brit clutched his abdomen, only to have his head grabbed by Haytham and slammed into his knee. Said soldier let out a loud yell and fell to the ground in fetal position. Haytham was panting and held up his arms to block an incoming attack. Another soldier threw another punch again, hoping to break the barrier. Haytham used this opportunity to counter and break the man's arm. He let out an anguished scream as the breaking of bones could be heard. Haytham then threw him on the ground violently.

Ziio watched in fascination at Haytham's fighting techniques. They were so clean and flowed nicely together… almost like a type of dance. Each punch thrown by a soldier was elegantly blocked by Haytham, and each attack was either parried or countered. She saw that two men in red decided to fight Haytham at the same time. The first Redcoat attempted to kick him in the knee. Haytham took a step back, as the other soldier behind him was about to put him in a headlock. He quickly glanced around, and stepped away from the man. The two men were now in front of him, where he could perfectly see and sense their next moves. The soldier that tried to kick him made the same mistake as the first man, and charged towards him. Right as the soldier reached Haytham, he parried and shoved the man into one of the tables, breaking the wooden furniture.

Splinters and drinks were in the air, as the soldier lied on the ground groaning in pain. Ziio continued to cheer him on on the sidelines. She took a sip from her tankard and watched him fight with such skill. Haytham stood his ground proudly. What he didn't notice was when one of the men on the ground grabbed his leg, pulling him down sharply. Haytham grunted as he fell down. He kicked the man's arm roughly and looked up. The soldier standing above him was about to stomp right onto his face! Haytham quickly rolled to the left and stood up. The soldier missed and stumbled. Haytham took his chance to push against him hard against a table.

There were two Redcoats remaining, and both of them knew that the only way to beat Haytham was to attack at once together. They both ran at him with great speed. Using what Reginald taught him, he slipped one of the soldier's feet and caused him to fall backwards. The other Redcoat was able to punch Haytham on the side of his face, leaving an already purple bruise. The bastard was also apparently holding a half broken rum bottle, which cut the side of Haytham's face a little. With rage, Haytham punched the soldier hard across the face, and kicked him hard in the groin where it would hurt.

The man let out an extremely loud yell and crumpled to the floor in agony. There was cheering and roaring in the background, as well as broken tables and groaning British soldiers. The Wright Tavern was a mess, to say the least. Some spectators were helping the incapacitated men up, and Haytham took his seat next to Ziio. She looked at him and saw the blood dripping down the side of his face. Though she knew this man wasn't to be trusted, she all of a sudden felt concern for him. The Clan Mother had taught Ziio that she had to be caring and kind, especially when one was injured.

"You are hurt," she said in a soft tone with a worried face.

Haytham looked at her quickly and said, "Oh, it's nothing." She could swear that she saw his cheeks turn a little red. Ziio reached behind the counter and grabbed the bottle of beer. She pulled a white handkerchief out of her furskin coat and brought it up to the lips of the bottle. After she poured some of the alcohol onto the swab, she pressed it against Haytham's cheek. She was surprised when he gently jolted at her contact.

"Here… this should stop the bleeding," she said.

Haytham looked at her with soft eyes, "That wasn't necessary, but thank you."

Ziio gave a nod and then stood up. She looked at the door and spoke, "We should move on. Meet me at Braddock's camp when you're ready."


Haha… so ok, this scene was difficult for me to write because I have such a hard time crafting action sequences. It's so hard for me to try not to repeat words over again, thus, some aspects of the bar fight had to be changed from its canon form in Assassin's Creed 3. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter as I have many more ideas to come soon! :D