It was very peaceful, working for the Finnegans. Something had drawn Connor to the two of them, a couple of months ago. It was a similar sensation that had drawn him to find the Assassin called Shay. He had been out hunting – they had asked for a dozen rabbits, as well as a couple of elk or deer if he could find them. Given that the seasons were starting to get colder, it made sense that at least the larger animals' meat would be salted and preserved for winter, when it was much more difficult to hunt game.

It had taken Connor a couple of days to find all of the requested quarry – as well as cure the hides and to sell them at the market. He was a little concerned, as the gangs who had stolen the Assassins' symbol were growing bolder and bolder as time went on. From what the time traveler had been able to tell, there was little if any organized Templar activity… Then again, according to his father's journal entries while Haytham had been in the colonies a couple of years earlier, the man who would become the first Grandmaster of the Colonial Rite was currently in Europe with one Jim Holden, searching for his sister.

Connor's heart ached, as he realized that it was possible that his father was still unaware of the deep betrayal that Birch had committed against him – against the entire Kenway family. That the English Grandmaster had led the attack with paid mercenaries to kill Edward, and had intended on selling both Haytham and Jenny into slavery. That it had only been the secret training that the former Pirate-Assassin had given Haytham in secret that peaked Birch's greed and realization that his father could be a useful tool against the English Brotherhood, if trained properly. The entire mess and the darkness that was soon to claim and harden his father was not something Connor wished on his worst enemy. But if he tried to interfere at best he would sound like a madman… At worst, he could change things for the detriment of many others.

Still, a small, selfish voice whispered in the back of his mind, that he could track down one of the members of his father's inner circle. With his golden eyes, his father's journal and the Piece Of Eden he held, it probably would not take a great deal of convincing on his part that he held news of great import. That he might deflect some of the bitterness that had left his beloved so hardened and calloused towards the world was a temptation that Connor did not realize would tease him so mercilessly.

His thoughts jumbled chaotically through his mind as he entered through the Finnegans' main tavern door, unsurprised to find the place largely empty as it was early morning. There were about four or five red coats – something that made him shift and tense a little, but Cassidy seemed calm as she bustled about the bar.

She called out to him cheerfully "Ah, there you are Connor! Barry and I were getting a little concerned that a bear or a wildcat might have gotten you out there, while you were hunting."

"I am honored by your concern, Mrs. Finnegan. I am fine. I was able to successfully hunt everything you sent me for. How are you?" He responded quietly, bringing his hands up to his chest, one forming a loose fist, the other gently massaging the knuckles of the closed hand as he moved towards her. Connor's chin dropped a little towards his chest as he deliberately walked so that he would avoid the couple of tables that the redcoats were sitting and chatting, keeping a couple of tables' distance between himself and them at all times. His eyes were mainly on Cassidy, but every so often, his eyes would dart towards the soldiers.

"I am glad that you are well. I am doing well and so is Barry. That's wonderful! The fresh meat will make the stew I have been tending to all day very delicious. We have a guest who will be staying with us for a while. Colonel Monro found the poor boy half drowned and frozen to death in the river outside of New York! He is badly injured and sick, but with luck he will heal. George and Barry are upstairs, making sure that the man is comfortable." Cassidy answered, a concerned frown appearing on her face as she talked about the poor lad that the Colonel had brought in. He would be about the age that their son would have been, had he not been killed. Barry was hesitant in taking care of the young man, grumbling that the other was probably a drunken deckhand who had been clumsy enough to fall from his ship, but Cassidy was unconvinced.

Connor tensed a little at that. He knew that name – Colonel George Monro had been the military commander of New York for years. He had been a very popular leader among the red coats and had been mourned when he died to the injuries he had sustained in the Great Fire of New York. Monro had been briefly mentioned several times in his father's journal as well, as a good friend. The likelihood of the colonel being a Templar was fairly high. "I see. Is the Colonel's presence the reason why you are playing hosts to soldiers at this time of the day?" Connor asked softly, moving closer and carefully setting the carefully wrapped and butchered rabbits on the counter where Cassidy had motioned for them to go.

"Yes, and the colonel is a good friend of ours. We met him through our son, who had been in training years ago." She responded, a sad expression flashing across her face for a few moments as the bittersweet memories of her son coming home one day in a fine uniform, eyes bright with a fierce joy and determination as he had talked about finding a purpose greater than himself to serve.

Connor nodded once, eyes softening a little as he pulled the salted and wrapped cuts of meat from the two elk he had hunted from his pack, knowing to set them in the drying area of the back pantry. The Finnegans' son had died a few years ago, killed under mysterious circumstances, and both of them missed him dearly. "I see. Do you want me to find medicine or healing tinctures for the injured guest, or has the Colonel left such things? Will he need fresh bandages?"

"We have everything we need to take care of our injured and ill guest." Barry called from the stairs. "You seem to know a lot about what a person might need when unwell."

Connor shrugged a little. "It comes in handy to know what you might need. I have been hunting since I was a child and it is a largely solitary business. If one gets injured on the Frontier, it is wise to be carrying such things in your back as aid is hard to come by and often quite costly, otherwise." He had been taught some Colonial healing methods by Achilles during his training.

"You have a good point there. If you would not mind assisting us with the clumsy deckhand, we would be very grateful." Barry asked. He was entirely unconvinced about the young man that Colonel Monro had brought in, but he wo

uld try to help the poor idiot heal up as much as he could.

"I do not mind helping with injured person." Connor responded truthfully, noting the well dressed older man who had appeared on the stairs behind Barry. The time traveler shifted around a little, so that Cassidy could move around him a bit more easily.

As Barry and the man who was probably Colonel Monro walked down the stairs, Connor noted that the stranger was wearing a Templar Cross- and a few bandits could be seen in their greenish-black and orange uniforms through a couple of windows.

"Connor, what do you see?" Cassidy asked quietly, as the utter and sudden stillness within the young man usually heralded what might become troublesome… or a large guard patrol moving through the area.

"More of those uniform-wearing gang members." Connor answered softly back. "They are by one of the windows and appear to be lurking. One of them has a rifle and a bayonet."

"That could be a bit dangerous. I wonder why they've chosen to loiter around my tavern." Barry complained as a surly expression appeared on his face.

"They are climbing up the side of the other building and I do not see them any longer. I do hope that they are not planning on causing more trouble for others, but it is likely that they are… Ah- they're being chased by guardsmen." Connor remarked as several red coats scrambled up the same building after the bandits. He might be able to track them longer if he had used his second sight… but had no real reason to do so.

"Is there a particular reason for why you were concerned about the movements of the bandits?" Monro asked curiously, carefully watching the young man. There was something strangely familiar about Connor, although what it might be, the Templar could only guess.

"Several weeks ago four members of the same gang were in here, threatening the Finnegans. They wanted protection money. I stepped in and convinced them to leave. They have yet to return, however such people can become… Troublesome to deal with if one goes against what they wish. But they are twice the bother if one gives into their demands." The native answered quietly.

Monro nodded in agreement, "It is unfortunate that some resort to such methods in an attempt to gain what they want in

life. I would like to know the name of the young man who has been helping a couple of dear friends of mine."

"You may call me Connor, if you wish." The time-traveling Assassin responded uncertain as to what to do. The older man had a stern but compassionate air about him. It was oddly distracting.

"Is Connor a trade name?" The colonel asked curiously. They had recently gotten a missive from the French Rite. There was a time-displaced person in the English Colonies, brought there by a Piece of Eden. They knew that such a thing occurred as the Sword of Eden had lit up, showing the ghostly form of a man. The second image that had been seen was a map of the colonies, a shimmering spot for several moments. From the English Rite- Grandmaster Birch had an Apple in his possession- they had contact from a spirit, telling of a traveler from another time. The spirit- Juno as she had named herself - spoke in warning, that this traveler might come to harm the balance of things. Additionally the traveler was an Assassin- a powerful and clever one who had the Piece of Eden that brought him back in time.

It was one of the reasons why Monro had save the life other Assassin currently badly injured and resting in one of the Finnegan's rooms. George had principally rescued the young man as if they could turn the Assassin to the Templar cause, he would be incredibly useful. If the Assassin did turn he may have had contact with the time-traveler and might give them a better identification and what it was that the traveler was trying to accomplish.

"It is the name I go by." The young man answered, raising an eyebrow a little at the response, "Do you think I Have another? At least… One you might have a chance to pronounce…"

Both Cassidy and Barry blinked a little in surprise, it seemed as though Connor was almost… challenging the Colonel? The young man did not seem to like his presence at all. Then again, Connor general did not like dealing with guards and soldiers. While it was not overtly hostile, Connor would be highly sarcastic and passive aggressive. He would additionally leave their presence as soon as he was relatively certain that the British Guards would not cause trouble.

"I see, if you wish to be known by Connor it is your choice." Monro answered mildly, not the least bit of-put by the suspicion and not quite hostility coming from the younger man. They had little to show the native peoples of these lands but broken promises and dead loved ones and allies. "I will come by to check on the inured guest when I am able to do so. If you need anything for his care or treatment do not hesitate to reach out to me."

Barry nodded in acknowledgement as Cassidy gently coaxed the disgruntled Connor upstairs to see the new guest.

Connor's eyes widened in shock and dismay as he recognized the prone figure. He was fairly certain- and a closer look at the battered and bandaged face- as well as the weapons that were set on the bedside table. "I recognize this man. His name is Shay." Connor knew that the Finnegans were neutral and unaware of the centuries long secret war. The Colonel on the other hand wore a Templar cross and

clothes similar to his father's Templar uniform. Why the Templar might wish to save the life of an Assassin, Connor could only guess. The Templar probably wanted something from Shay- information about the Colonial Brotherhood? Given how widespread the Assassins were at this point in time- far from the truth of the Creed they were supposed to uphold…

"When and how did you meet Shay?" Cassidy asked curiously. It was a strange if fortuitous coincidence that the two of them had met before. She wondered how well Connor knew this mysterious and well armed stranger.

Connor carefully and with a surprising about of practice, checked the stranger's bandages and injuries. "Several months ago- before I met the two of you. I was hunting, deep in the frontier. I nearly bumped into him. He told me that I was private property and the small valley I had stumbled across was owned by someone he knew, so I left."

"Ah, what was your impression of him?" Cassidy inquired. "I did not know that you had training as a physician, Connor."

"He was friendly, if a bit cautious." Connor responded, a small smile appearing on his face as he thought of the older Assassin. There had been something genuinely approachable about Shay and Connor would have liked to speak with him longer – and might have, had the French Assassin not gone looking for Shay. He wondered if the battered state Shay was currently in had anything to do with the mission that the other had been sent on… Or if Templars were to blame for Shay's current state. "I am no physician, but I did learn a few ways to bandage up others as well as myself. Among a few other things. It comes in handy, if one gets injured out in the frontier, to know how to put oneself back together again."

"That does make sense. We have been wanting for you to meet Colonel Monro for a few weeks now. He is a busy man, but I think he does have time for a bit of talk." She murmured.

"I… I suppose I will speak with him, if you truly wish me to. I am uncertain as to why you would wish me to do so." Connor responded, shifting a little. He was hesitant to speak with the Templar, but perhaps this was part of what the spirit wanted him to learn. The second encounter he had with a spirit in conjunction with a Piece of Eden, Ratonhnhake:ton had decided to drop the Apple into the bottom of the ocean so that no one would be tempted by Its' power.

"I would like you to talk to him, but if you do not want to, or are not feeling up to it, I understand. You have been out hunting for a while." Cassidy responded, knowing well that Connor was very wary of the British soldiers and was unsurprised by his reticence.

"Very well. I will see if he wishes to speak with me. Whether or not he will…" Connor shrugged a little. His gaze lingered on Shay if he wondered if he should try to contact the Colonial Brotherhood, to inform them of Shay's injured but currently living state. However the actions of those who wore the symbol within New York concerned Connor greatly.