Assassin's creed Stagnation

If I were to tell you my story, I will have to delve into the life that I had lived before. Through this you can understand the circumstances of my membership.

I was around sixteen when my parents separated. They were divorced on the grounds of a really bad relationship that had persisted since the latter half of my childhood, an unhappy pair with numerous relationships behind the vows of marriage. They were the first traitors I knew, a traitor in regards to their vows and promises, and a traitor to one another for wealth, sex and boredom. The reason as I found out from the servants who walked through the halls of my parents' manor was that over time marriage, and the decision to have a lack of commitment, overtook their minds. Soon they were having numerous affairs, writing letters to lovers, and handing it down to me to pass it on when I was on visits, sneaking into offices and planting keepsakes in desks.

But the worst of it was not the affairs themselves, it was that both my parents were aware of their sortied activities upon leaving the house, checking on useless trivial tasks around the house outside of their normal behaviors. They shot knowing glances, exchanged glares and anything they did together was poisonous to me, so I was taught my lessons with one parent who avoided the other.

Eventually my father left for his mistress while my mother agreed to leave for hers, a strange respect existed between them I couldn't figure out. I was left alone in that house, the new master to a house of servants with the responsibilities left to my aunt. She was a widow, split from her husband who out of concern for his lack of love towards her and damaging their relationship further broke the news. I remember her greying hair and dull eyes as she watched me stride into my father's office, shock and trauma afflicting my senses while she knelt beside me wiping my tears. And why wouldn't I? I was an adult who was to lead the manor without assistance, my parents' contacts and friends cut all ties with us, we faced the threat of poverty as I was too young as well as the abandonment of my father meant many of the breweries and farms shifted their control.

It was there that my aunt told me of a way. She said if I committed myself to them as she had, we would be able to hold onto our remaining farms and brewery. She also promised that should I accept, I was entitled to seek out and find my missing parents with the resources necessary to grant me peace. I accepted her offer out of anger and determination, there was no other way to impose my authority despite being named heir and leave those people without money and livelihood.

That night, I was introduced to them, heard of their purpose and accepted their rite.

That night, I became a Templar.

Things looked up after that, Crawford Starrick saw to it that I was taught the ways of the Templar by tutors in history, economics and business management. I soon became a banker four years later with the right paperwork while my farms and breweries fell under a distasteful man named Rupert Ferris, who I learned after his death and Starrick handing me back my resources mistreated my workers, causing some to flock to the side of the Rooks after learning of Rupert's death. I was blamed for Ferris' carelessness and profits dropped of course despite my protest, Twopenny continued to rob the bank I worked in during that time by legal methods of withdrawing from his 'personal savings'.

Out of all of them, I remember David Brewster the most, a man most interested in science. He fascinated me with manifests of various theories, but disputed with Charles Darwin…I could never tell when he spoke of his theoretical rival if he respected the man and hated his ideals, or simply detested both but he would always speak of the debates with wistful melancholy. A man of some if somewhat questionable sense of irritancy, Brewster served as a relative in our family though my aunt remained the 'motherly' figure in my life.

That all changed for my family when we were introduced to a man I would grow to hate until his eventual death. He took my aunt, left me alone and isolated me from the only family I had besides Brewster, I will always remember that sinister smile and the scarred left of his face.

His name was Maxwell Roth.


Westminster Borough

Jacob Frye was pissed. Sure it was an easy thing to piss off Jacob Frye, but this was one of those days that his anger was reaching past its limits than the jovial cheekiness in his usual fights in the streets. As the crowd of jeers and several rotten apples were thrown at him, Jacob fended off a punch as he sidestepped out of the way, his jaw slack as dull pain coursed through the bone and veins. His coat was torn, cuts and lines of blood covered the length of his arms, while a bruise on his left cheek was visible only by the cuts over his skin, while his top hat was discarded lying somewhere a few blocks back from chasing his target. Jacob's neck snapped to attention when he saw the knife close in on his person, the Assassin grabbing the wrist that held the weapon twisting it while he brought his right gauntlet in a jab against the elbow hearing a satisfying crack as the knife fell to the ground, Jacob throwing a straight to bash against his attacker's face sending the man to the ground.

"I'm going to gut you!" Another voice, female from his left as Jacob reacted, dodging from another knife before he noticed the female thug reach into her coat. Quick on his feet, Jacob drew a throwing knife and threw it embedding itself into her leg causing her to stumble on her knee, Jacob grabbing her head and smashed it against his knee, blood spraying onto his pants as black stains. Punching her for good measure, Jacob looked around the ring his eyes gazing upon their green outfits and yellow scarves with the heraldry of a rook piece stained by red.

"I'm going to punch your teeth in!" A male voice roared, almost thunderous above the circle of men and women who surrounded Jacob cheering for either contender, Jacob feeling a rise in his throat as he faced off against the large muscled bruiser towering over him menacingly, the Assassin punching his palm with his fist while he readied his stance. His target, the one he came to hunt was coming to him now, standing proud observing the loss of his two henchmen muscled hands wrapped in blood-stained bandages wearing a white shirt with green suspenders and pants complete with the rook piece scarf around his neck shaking his head.

"You just don't know when to give up, Jacob Frye." The man growled, rolling his shoulders as he cracked his knuckles Jacob feeling rage boiling in the back of his throat.

"First you try to stab me in the back, after all we did for you?!"

The man remained impassive, his eyes narrowed in disgust belitting Jacob. "You gave us nothing than turn us into the villains we stopped."

"I had enough of your bullshit, come and get it you wrinkled bald wank!"

The man in front of him swung a heavy right in retaliation, Jacob ducking below as he moved into his opponent's body, slamming his elbow against the rough cheekbone of his face stunning him before Jacob pushed his advantage, a combo of three straight jabs to the eyes and nose followed by clapping his hands against the man's ears. Roaring, the brute grabbed Jacob into a bear hug ignoring the ringing in his ears as he threw Jacob aside, the latter crashing into the wooden wall behind him. Jacob reared himself on his hind legs, crouching as he glared at his opponent rolling the sleeve of his right arm ready to pounce as the man came thundering against him. Rolling aside to avoid the brute's swings, Jacob raised his left hand the familiar click of the hidden blade sliding out from its sheath as it reached towards the man's back.

"Enough!" The fight circle stopped abruptly amongst the jeers of the crowd, a figure pushing themselves to the center of the ring distracting Jacob who turned around to identify the intruder, his earlier anger forgotten upon seeing no one other than a familiar female wearing a buttoned leather coat with her hood drawn back to show her short black hair. Coming to a halt, the woman glanced in shock at the two men, both of who were worse for wear, her eyes seeing bruises and cuts on their face and muddied blots of water and dirt clumps.

"Sister!" Jacob said out of relief, his wrist retracting the hidden blade before anyone could notice the weapon, the crowd distracted by the new arrival wearing a black coat with an arm cape draped over her left shoulder, her brown eyes glaring at the sight.

"Miss Frye, this is between me and your brother. Stay out of this!" The bruiser spat at the newcomer, the dark haired woman turning to regard the burly man with a glare, rounding on the man as she jabbed a finger at his stomach. "And just what are you doing? There is no need to fight amongst ourselves!"

"You hear that lads and ladies? She says we have no reason or need to fight!" The brute was answered by the laughter of the crowd, the man wiped his nose with his thumb as he paced his knuckles bruised and carried a bit of blood. "You are the reason and the need that we must fight, Dame. You and your brother have given us hopes for a change, only to dash it again onto the rocks!"

"Whatever reason do you mean? If this is about Starrick-"

"You claim to free us from the powers of Starrick and the businesses, when we are enslaved to society in return! Five months, we waited. Many of us have families to feed, jobs that require hands and employers who favor machines over bodies! And you came in, preaching about working for us when you simultaneously break the industry."

"We have control over some businesses where you can find jobs!" Evie shot back, the man raising a brow of doubt folding his arms. "Can you admit that you have enough space for the hundreds to thousands, to the hundred thousands of men and women who risk our livelihoods to follow and support you, Dame?" Seeing Evie fall silent, the man knew that they were stumped, this did not go unnoticed by the crowd who began to murmur amongst themselves, Evie taking control of the situation as she glared at the brute. "If that is true, then maybe you should be off finding work than waste your day with pointless arguing!"

"See how they deflect and mislead us, trying to garner loyalty! Their promises are empty, nothing but hot air! They know nothing of the poverty that we face, not matter how we look at it, our lives won't change!" The man announced before he glared at Evie and Jacob, the latter being held back by Evie spitting on the ground at the brute. Knowing that he won, the muscular tower turned on his heel and left leaving the battle ring.

Once the crowd had dispersed and went their ways along with the protestor did Evie turn to regard her brother with a fiery stare, grabbing the collar of Jacob's coat as she turned his cheek seeing the large bloodied bruise of torn skin and blood streaks covering the slightly black circle. Jacob hissed, shifting his eyes away from his sibling as his mind dulled the pain consciously, resisting the grip of Evie's palm on his cheek.

"I didn't need your help, I had him."

"You were about to kill him!" Evie protested, using her grip on his collar to shake him as she saw Jacob's face clench, the expression telling her of his intention as she sighed, returning to the cut above Jacob's right eye her left hand removing itself from his collar. Reaching into her coat, she retrieved a small white handkerchief to wipe the wound, the rough silk itching against Jacob's skin. "Those are some serious scars, what exactly happened between the two of you?"

"I heard of a bloke stirring dissent at Westminster, so I went to sort him out. Turns out he was more resourceful than I thought, and tougher. Bald wank-ow," Jacob flinched as Evie dug the handkerchief against his bloodied lip, Evie giving him a raised brow as Jacob glared at her.

"Anyways, the bloke had some of the Rooks waiting outside to escort me inside a factory. Suffice to say I was lured into a trap. I beat them back, chased after him into an alley before I was grabbed by the crowd, stripped of my cane sword and thrown to the ground. We then brawled 'till you showed up," Jacob replied wincing as Evie removed her handkerchief removing her hand from his cheek, Jacob feeling his sore jaw while Evie addressed him sternly. "This is no time for games, Jacob. Since Starrick fell these signs of indignation have been occurring over the past three months. As leader of the Rooks, I thought you might have some form of control."

Jacob snorted, gesturing to his face notably the bruise on his cheek. "Well, looks like the disagreement runs deeper than I thought. That bloke in that factory was going on and on about the lack of changes, and that Starrick was a distraction for the Rooks. I had half a mind to beat him senseless, but…"

"We can worry about that later, Jacob."

"No, sister it is not some worry we can postpone." Jacob insisted, his carefree demeanor disappeared as a serious glance told her he was genuinely concerned. "I was the one who wanted this, I made the Rooks what they are when we came to London and it is my responsibility that I keep them in line." Jacob sighed, rubbing the back of his neck while his sister watched him fret over his gang finding herself smile thinly despite the severity of the situation. Ever since Starrick's defeat and their connection established with the Queen, Evie and Jacob were facing an air of change however the past five months have shown both twins that if anything their position was weaker than before. Starrick was killed, his workers were however displaced and Starrick's company was being fought over by greedy stockholders, something that they had not anticipated. To make things worse, Starrick's collapse of his industries and investments in other factories had failed forcing many more into poverty and bankruptcy. All the while this happened around them, the nobility had suffered drawbacks as shares dissolved leaving the major business tycoons in temporary jeopardy forcing more workers to be retrenched.

And while this happened, capitalism had not grown weaker but stronger than before, and none felt more of that so than the Rooks. Made up of the working class and disgruntled unemployed who wanted change, the Rooks were shocked to find that instead of bringing change to the streets they were being blamed for many of their misdeeds that collapsed various aspects of Templar controlled resources. This in turn had caused words of dissenters to spread, the people were not satisfied and were worse off than before even without a tyrant tycoon to control the strings of society, this realization brought the borough leaders to question both Evie and Jacob's true intentions in London. One thing led to another, and soon talks of resentment towards Evie and Jacob became prominent amongst the leaders. It has gotten to the point that Jacob regularly clashed with angry Rooks on the streets, and Evie knew they were not satisfied.

"Well, either way, I am with you brother. We'll handle the Rooks together."

"Except when you went to Paris with Greenie for your vacation, I can't believe you just left me here for almost four months!" Jacob said in exasperation as he looked at Evie who rolled her eyes, used to her brother's complaining about her fiancée. "Oh grow up dear brother you're a grown up not fifteen, you had us for a few weeks to sort everything out for you and a list of chores to do."

"Yes, you even gave me a to-do list in the form of Agnes reminding me incessantly about behaving."

"Agnes is the best woman for the job." Evie replied as Jacob clutched his chest over his heart, appearing hurt as he looked at her back through narrowed eyes. "I hate you sometimes, you know that right?"

"I love you too, brother." Evie smiled with a light hint of mischief as she mentally noted to have Agnes continue the disciplining of her brother, her thoughts returning to the words of the brute. Much as she hated to admit it, the following months this far was not what she had anticipated and it was true. While she had handled several matters dealing with Jacob's careless spree of destruction during Starrick's rule, they found nothing but poverty.

Evie could only hope that the situation will subside.


Bank of England

"That is it for the meeting, we thank you gentlemen for your participation with the board," the chorus of moving chairs skidding against the floor filled the small secluded room as Aatto himself remained confined to his chair, closing his eyes as the rest of the shareholders filed out removing himself only when he was the last person in the room, ignoring the glares and whispers of the remaining managers as they left. Closing the door behind him, Aatto made his way to the door opposite the meeting room, fishing out a key when he stopped by a single door in front of him. Aatto took in the words painted on the glass, snorting in disgust.

"Banker Aatto Bonhem, what a joke this is." He muttered opening the door allowing himself passage to the interior, a dull wooden walled office with no windows save for a large wide expanse to the roof acting as the ceiling far above his head. From where he stood, the glass windows allowing light through their transparent barriers, the glowing light inversely reflected the anger and resignation he felt now. Once, he had been one of the high rolling bankers given dirty money by Twopenny the late Governor of the Bank of England (title self-proclaimed), all of which to oppress the members of society by charging high interests and manipulating records for Twopenny's own benefits. That time Aatto worked for him with a barrel of a gun at the back of his head, keeping his head down forced to ignore those who would be robbed of their hard earned savings and their money swapping hands. Now he was going to be retrenched, but for all the wrong reasons behind it.

His quiet contemplation was interrupted at the thumping of the door, Aatto walking toward the door and opened it, relaxing once he identified the visitor. "Roderick, it's good to see you."

"Likewise Aatto," Roderick replied shaking his hand. Roderick was one of the bankers who worked in the Bank of England, a talent for numbers and an amateur business sense. He was dressed in a white shirt with black pants complete with suspenders, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up while blonde hair and blue eyes defined his face. Aatto had not known him well despite them being neighbours, he was either busy with the workload he had or the women who drop by his office for outings, after a few visits Aatto knew when to exit the office space and come back leaving Roderick to his fun. He of course would not tell him that.

"So what are you doing here, Roderick?"

"Is that any way to greet a fellow banker? I was just checking up on you before your resignation." Aatto only nodded in understanding. Of course Roderick was here to see him off on his way today. Aatto had worked in the banking business at the age of twenty since his initial induction to the Order, providing the finances and handling the pockets of the rich and Templar alike. Roderick was one such rich man who Twopenny accepted into the Bank of England's ranks out of Roderick's status, belonging to Twopenny's relative who bribed him with an amount of money to turn a blind eye to the forged paperwork. Roderick was no Templar however, Twopenny confided once to Aatto that he did not want more competition. Of what Aatto didn't know but suspected for the longest time that it was mostly to do with money hoarding.

"I will manage myself without your worry Roderick however those missing records from two months ago are still on my mind. I can't believe this happened on my watch."

Roderick nodded, his face normally cheerful and jolly allowed for a slight grimace. "Indeed, the loss of those records to several nobles and the money are a very large responsibility to lose. I can't imagine you being responsible for it." Aatto gave a soft 'thanks' for his concern, even if it were false, the banker knew for a fact that Roderick if anything was not so sympathetic in comparison to his competitive ambition to own the Bank of England. He made it no secret that he saw other bankers as opponents to be defeated on the financial chessboard, Aatto was chided by him before about what he saw as 'lacking in spirit'. A strange imposed rivalry even when he never asked for it, the world was strange. "Well, look on the bright side Roderick, you always did say I was lacking in spirit to be at the top."

Roderick laughed in recollection, the man patting Aatto on the shoulder. "Well now, I may have criticized your lack of conviction and ambition but that does not mean you were by any means incompetent. Perhaps the world of banking was simply not for you."

"I think you're missing the point." Aatto muttered before a knock at the door alerted both men, their attentions turned to the newcomer. Standing at the doorway was a meek skinny gentleman of age 20, wearing a pair of spectacles too small for his face, the man pushing the frame upwards as he walked into the office holding a stack of papers under the crook of his left arm.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bonhem? You have one last customer before your shift ends." He spoke with a little jitter, Roderick patting Aatto's shoulder once more before he left without a word, leaving Aatto with his task.

"What is it?"

"Well, the customer wants to make…a bank account, with Roderick having his break I was thinking you could attend to the matter." Aatto kept silent, his face taunt as he looked over the man's shoulder, noticing the lack of another person before he turned to the spectacled man standing at his desk. "Is that so? So why hasn't the customer been shown into my office by your escort? Isn't that our procedure?" Aatto inquired noticing an obvious shade of hesitance from the spectacled man, shifting his feet awkwardly in Aatto's presence.

"Well…he is a foreigner, from the Indies."

"And, why isn't he escorted to me directly? Is there a problem with our customer?" Aatto asked, lacing his tone with slight irritation in his voice before the man straightened his back. "I-I will see to it that he's escorted to your door, Mr. Bonhem." The man scurried away as he noticed Aatto's expression become unreadable, the tension forcing him to fast walk out of the office under the narrowed eyes of his superior, taking one more look behind as he gripped the doorknob at Aatto.

"What are you waiting for? Leave the door open and attend to them, quickly!" Aatto raised his voice, the man scrambling to push the door against the wall as he scampered to the front desk. Once the man had fled, Aatto rubbed the bridge of his nose clenching his fists on the armrests of his leather chair. Even when the Templars aim to lead the nations under one order, there still exist the society's prejudice of race and self-promotion of European culture that could never be fully forgotten.

"Mr. Bonhem?" A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts before Aatto raised his head. As he did so, he came face to face with an unusual sight contrary to what he was expecting. Standing at the doorway was an Indian man with jet black wavy hair, his skin color matching that of raw umber, dressed in white robes with various layers of colored clothing within it, all tied together by a sash of scarlet red with gold embroidery depicting patterns of vines, the exotic patterns caught his intrigue the most. At his side, Aatto could make out a book hanging from the sash in an attached buckle holding it in place, the title obscure to him though he focused on the present obligation at hand.

"I apologize for the untimely and incompetent handling of our secretary," Aatto stood to his feet as his visitor walked inside Aatto shaking his hand. "I am Aatto Bonhem, and you are?"

"Green, but you may call me Henry." The man in robes spoke in fluent English, Aatto making a mental note to chew out the secretary for such an insolent attitude towards the man's race. Gesturing to the seat, both men settled in as Aatto drew out a form from his drawer.

"I am to understand that you decided to open up a bank account within the Bank of England?"

"That is correct." Henry affirmed, Aatto nodding as he pushed the form across with a fountain pen at the side towards Henry. "Well then, fill out this form for your details and I will begin preparations to open a ledger for your person." Leaving Henry to complete the task, Aatto opened another drawer where within lay a stack of blank ledgers the man placing one on the table before he filled out the name of his client, his attention shifting to open a right drawer picking up some documents which consisted of letters spreading three onto the table. Opening one of them, Aatto's expression became solemn, stuffing it in the drawer again as his letter opener slid across the top flaps of the letters for the other pair reading the content with disdain. The letters that he read contained names he recognized as lawyers, the names of the noble houses dampening his spirits as he read the lines frowning with every word, the banker laying them on the table while he held the urge to sigh.

"So uh, about the address…" Henry spoke up as Aatto acknowledged him by raising his head from his task, noticing a look of inquiry from the man as he quickly stuffed the letters into their place with the rest of his correspondences, not wanting to spoil Henry's day with his sour mood. "Yes, the address, what about it?"

"I reside in a mobile home. A train to be more specific is where I am staying for the duration in London."

"…Did you just say it was a train? I'm afraid, Henry that you've officially lost me. You said that your home, the place that you live currently, is in a train?" Aatto asked incredulously as Henry nodded, his posture tensing a little from what Aatto can tell. "Is that an issue if my address is mobile?"

"If you said it to any other banking employees or banks, it would be counted as a problem with a lack of address yes," Aatto admitted to him, not wanting to put any false hopes as he tapped the table. "However so long as it is within the vicinity of England's borders I can try to arrange a workaround, though I must warn you first that such circumstances will garner…unwanted criticism of your character, if by some luck they haven't already." Aatto confided the detail, watching Henry sink into thought over his options. As much as Aatto hated to admit in his line of work Aatto had been witness to several instances where colonial migrants to England were turned away from many jobs, as a banker he saw more migrants turned away from creating an account especially with the opinion colonial natives were unable to comprehend European society. Painful as it was, his position among the elite due to his status as Templar forced him to remain silent throughout their discussions.

"That will not be a problem with me."

"Oh?"

"My full title is Sir Henry Green."

"The Indian knighted by a queen…this dismisses all doubt and prejudice against you I'm sure."

"Not for the last few banks, they were rather adamant about me staying out of their grounds before." Henry replied in hindsight as Aatto leaned forward his gaze determined. "Then know that I am more adamant than they to make sure you have an account with your name and entitlement all over it."

"I will be waiting for it." Henry couldn't help but smile, pushing the completed form back with the fountain pen as Aatto looked over the paperwork. Reading over the details twice, Aatto stood up with the ledger and the form in hand. "Wait here, I will see to it that you are properly passed through."

It did not take long, Aatto returned ten minutes after to his office smiling at his efforts. As he entered, he noticed Henry crouched over his desk the man clearing his throat at the doorway while he knocked against the wood, startling Henry who turned his back to Aatto.

"Having fun, are we?"

"Oh, no I was being curious." Henry spoke as he immediately retracted from the desk, Aatto giving an amused snort shaking his head before he held up a formal document in his hand. "I have your prize, a document that recognizes you as a valid candidate for a bank account. All we need is your signature and we're good." At that, Henry's expression seemed to lighten, whatever invisible tension between the two had dissipated as Henry grabbed the document, reading over the content for a few seconds before he signed Aatto using a stamp to imprint the name of the bank over it.

"With that, congratulations Sir Henry on creating an account with the Bank of England, I hope you will continue to be a valued customer than those who turned you away," Aatto said as Henry nodded, the Indian taking his leave closing the office door behind him. Once Henry had disappeared, Aatto immediately moved his hand to the right top drawer, opening to find an empty space.

"Well I be damned, he fell for the lure." Aatto muttered in surprise, chuckling as he reached into the drawer, his index slipping into a small hole pulling until he heard a satisfied 'pop' from the base of the drawer. Removing the false bottom, Aatto retrieving the contents consisting of a box in his hand, Aatto closing the drawer replacing the false bottom compartment before sliding it back in.

"Time to let Lupin know that his plan is in motion," Aatto moved the chair back as he stuffed the documents into his bag, Aatto exited the office sliding his key into the lock of the office as he threw his shoulders forward to straighten the frock coat, checking that his bag was secure the banker left the workplace for the last time.


Night time, Bonhem estate office

For the night Aatto had invited Lupin to his estate to stay the night, discussing the plans that have been drawn into place. Both men sat on either end of the desk in the office, left mostly undecorated save for an azure dyed carpet, a small fireplace neatly tucked away to the east wall, and two bookshelves worth of a library. Aatto after taking a drink of his tea was the first to speak, placing his cup on the table with a clink. "Lupin, it is done. The Assassins have taken the bait, just as you suspected. They know who I am."

"My contacts on the street reported this too, they saw that Henry Green did not enter any other bank since his migration to London. He had left for close to four months with his fiancée to India, and that he targeted the bank you reside in specifically asking for you by name." Lupin replied as he drank his own cup, holding it by his index and thumb.

"Then how did Henry survive this long without an account? You can't tell me that he carried a portable chest containing wealth in his hideout, stored on a train somewhere on the tracks of London going through the boroughs, where they can finance the funds to fight Starrick. That is ridiculous," Aatto mockingly insulted the possibility. That couldn't be how an Assassin honestly gains their funds so easily, right?

Lupin remained unamused by his ridicule, the old man patiently tapping his finger. "How they carried and gained the wealth is secondary now. As to the bait left in that drawer it is no surprise you are easy to locate, your predecessor Starrick would have had some record of correspondences between our allies, including business dealings with fellow members. Such a tactic is nothing new in the line of Assassin information gathering, and they are validating you as a person, scouring your potential."

"They want to see if I am a threat to them, to their control."

"Yes, that is the idea though from past experience, a Templar is a Templar…a threat they are compelled to extinguish. Which is why I planted something else to ensure attention is diverted from you for a short time."

"That is no small comfort to me." Aatto answered wearily, rubbing the dark circle under his right eye as he swept his hand over the table. "To dismiss me from the position of banker, they are convinced that I am indirectly responsible for the missing documents, the ledgers and fifteen thousand pounds short in the vaults. In fact, I'm greatly surprised that they did not fire me over the course of my three weeks of court lawsuits and imprisonment for corruption charges." Aatto snorted, the memories of nobles battering down on his manor through their lawyers were a headache. "I know it myself, someone was planning on removing me from the banking industry for access to the Bank's funds, and my position to be Grandmaster was strong according to your council."

Lupin sighed as he took a while to respond. "Power is easily consolidated and lost, Grandmaster. You still have the remaining farms and breweries to make up for your lost position."

"But their income is not enough!" Aatto hissed, gazing at the window seeing the dots of electric lights in the distance from the manor. "I had Starrick's shares to empower my influence in the Bank of England and counter Twopenny's selfish swindling from our vaults and my personal wealth, I sent him business deals to secure myself as Starrick's supplier for cattle, poultry and spirits to advance his industry's borders. All for my workforce and my business partners, to be screwed by Twopenny and Starrick's indifference," Aatto paced his office feeling his head spin.

"All of that to ensure your hold on power and the workers were satisfied."

"You sound displeased." Aatto noted the disapproval in Lupin's voice sourly, the latter acknowledging him with a nod. "Yes, I am displeased. You may have cooperated with Starrick and avoided Twopenny like the plague to protect your vested interests, but you suffered control by not taking opportunities and giving your workforce advantages."

"Consolidation of power is first empowered by the will of the people, not always by single thought."

"Yet those who appeal and prostrate themselves to the people become nothing more than a puppet whose will is cast to the winds of speech, and thoughts once sharp become that of the uneducated." Lupin countered with ease, allowing himself a smile at Aatto's expense. "You are still thinking with the mind of a dreamer, not an intellect young Grandmaster."

"Hmph…back to our discussion Lupin, what did you put in that drawer?" Aatto asked curiously, Lupin sipping more of his tea before he placed his cup on the table, grabbing the teapot by the handle tipping it over the cup. "That is connected to the case surrounding your lost reputation, my dear Grandmaster. To be more specific, I had the Assassins chase a false lead on your movements to apprehend the men responsible for the false accusations against you."

Aatto's face darkened when he heard this, his earlier calm replaced by a glare as he tented his fingers, the Grandmaster looking at his empty tea cup which was being filled by Lupin's hands, grasping the handle with his ring finger, while his other hand touched the ring on his index, eyes focused on the ruby red cross. Gulping the warm beverage down his throat, Aatto coughed as his throat contracted unused to the surge of heat feeling a slight burn on his tongue covering his mouth. "I see."

"Those men, whoever they are, performed this deed without my knowledge. We hunt them, only to find they cannot be located by normal means, by the system of society implanted, much as I know you would like the information as quickly as possible. However we must acknowledge that my network has to deal with two other factions on two fronts, the Assassins may have better luck and focus to see this through."

"So we're using the Assassins to rid ourselves of individual or individuals standing in our way. But by any chance, would they be involved with any of the other Templar factions?" Lupin paused, certainty dispersed from Aatto's suspicions as he sighed staring at the murky reflected light from the tea. "I have considered that, I acknowledge the risk and knowledge its benefits will give the Assassins an edge should they wipe out these men. I may have considerable influence in the Templar Order, the majority of our members have sided with either side leaving us mostly powerless, and any move I make in our channels will be detectable by them and ruin any long term goals. No, we are fractured Aatto. Broken. The Assassins are a united force that will be able to spare the resources on this chase, their connection with royalty has assured me of it."

"And what then when the Assassins catch on to our men, Lupin? If by the smallest chance that information leading to the Templar factions is being traced back to me, what will become of me? After all, it is my desk and I am coincidentally the Grandmaster of this Fractured Order!" Aatto exclaimed thumping his fist on the desk, incensed that Lupin committed to the decision without him. "You speak of necessity, but you lack the trust to inform me of the full extent of your plans."

"Is that not what we do? We are Templars; pragmatic, logical, and the men willing to do what is necessary to root out our enemies and cast their lies into the light."

"For personal gain it seems! I am Grandmaster of the Templar Order. I should have an authority to speak for myself when it comes to such matters, especially when they involve my life as a personal stake." Aatto protested, his gaze steeled with anger at the callousness of the older Templar. Lupin drank his tea unfazed by the Grandmaster's concern as he calmly replied to the concerned man to reassure him, his eyes regarding Aatto condescendingly. "I knew the risks when I considered them with you in my mind; I know that I am gambling with your life. But what choice would you have done? It is clear that any movement within the police will alert these men, they have the same level of connections that my faction has within the city, we share our contacts! We are currently in a situation where we cannot trust the safety of our own to anyone outside of our circles, and our agents are not loyal to purpose as we are."

"…" Aatto fell silent, inwardly aware that there was a time he could not argue with that. Even with the title of Grandmaster, the name felt hollow when Lupin spoke of him as such, devoid of authority. The support of old men and loyalists, few in number compared to the comprehension of ambition and expansion meant nothing to him if it did not establish him as someone who has complete control. His removal from power within the banking business was simply a reminder of that, even now he was forced to turn to Lupin and the traditionalist faction for support that he once had than implementing his own methodology.

"Aatto, there is another reason why I chose this approach." Lupin interrupted his conflicted thoughts, bringing him to the present as the old Templar drank his tea. "The Templars in the opposing factions outside of London may not send us help, but the chaos within London has opened up a gap of power with no one to fill it."

Aatto blinked, confused by his words as he furrowed his brows. "Wasn't that what you chose me for? To act as the stability and control over the factions?" He replied, Lupin giving the Grandmaster a worried glance. "That was part of the reason. See, without Starrick who kept London in place certain aspects of society have not changed at all even with his passing. For one, the working class is experiencing poverty the disease still persistent when the Assassins took over, and that gang of theirs the Rooks has only earned their territory from the Blighters only to realize they're filling the shoes of their oppressors. So, with that realization, what do you think would happen?"

"Doesn't that mean illegal operations that the Assassins will accept as part of it?" Aatto suggested, it was the only plausible thing he could come up with and with good reason. Assassins worked in the underworld, any means of smuggling and illegal trade was acceptable under their 'everything is permitted' ruling. Lupin however seemed dissatisfied with his answer shaking his head.

"That is small scale, not what I was thinking of. The people who joined them want change, proper change in their foreseeable future. The Assassins promised the end of Starrick, but by doing so they were asked to fill another obligation."

"You mean their standard of living?" Aatto asked seeing Lupin nod, finally reaching an understanding of what his mentor was getting at, the Grandmaster shaking his head in disbelief overcome with apprehension as he found himself at a loss before he found his voice. "But that is practically impossible! People without capitalism have accepted the existence of social class gaps long before it came into power!"

"And with it comes the crux of the problem, no matter what the Assassins said the people interpret it as such: 'Join us in the fight with Starrick, and our problems will be over. Our families will have more income, our jobs will be secure, we the people will be available for jobs since Starrick's workforce is crippled, Starrick's workers are to blame for working under Starrick. If we cannot satisfy our needs, we need to take it.' Look at our city now. Do you still think that will happen?" Lupin questioned Aatto, the old Templar seeing Aatto slanting his eyes to the ground unable to speak. After a moment, Aatto spoke.

"The Assassins have given the Rooks an opportunity for power, and the scorn of the public. They'll spiral out of control." Aatto finished his thoughts, his eyes widening further when he realized a hidden detail within the train of logic. "But wait a minute, if that's the case then that means…"

"It is as you may suspect Grandmaster, the reason why our position is beneficial to the Templar factions and to those outside London. It is also the reason why help will never arrive to London."

"Sons of bitches, they saw the opportunity to correct Starrick's mistake." Aatto clenched his fists. Was that truly their intent? To wait out such a storm rather than throw their men and resources to curb it, that would mean starving the people of the working class out. That meant feeding the very dissent that Starrick feared in his philosophy of maintaining the current order. "But at such a high cost…"

"And so the Lord said in Scripture, you reap what you have sown. The Assassins sowed unknown promises to the people their ignorance cannot keep, and now the people are beginning to realize how flawed their masters truly are...and they will respond in the only way they can." Lupin quoted stoically as he drummed his fingertips against the sides of the teacup, though the scowling of his mouth being the only sign that he was troubled.

"Revolution." Aatto gazed at Lupin's sorrowful nod, confirming his suspicions. "Exactly, Aatto. The Assassins are failing, and is the real reason why you must unite the Templars in London quickly. I fear if we do not act or formulate a strategy to deal with this soon, London's Rooks face the possibility of becoming the new revolutionists of the state. And even the Assassins will not stop them."

Aatto did not hesitate when he glared at Lupin, his face contorted with discomfort and anger, laying his hands on the table. "…These Assassins, these Fryes, must pay for what they have done in their ignorance. I will not question you any further on your plans regarding the Bank and whoever is out there trying to claim it, Lupin, I want the Assassins followed and our enemies found. And should the Assassins find me, I want them to know just how badly they have failed this city, one step at a time."

"All in good time, Aatto…you must not let your righteous anger against the Fryes blind you to seeking vengeance for the mistakes of children," Lupin advised sternly in a light reprimand Aatto feeling his mouth dry from anger.

"They know nothing, Lupin. Nothing at all."

"Of that, we can both agree."

End

Memory Two synch complete