Disclaimer: I still don't own Assassin's Creed. Yeah, this isn't for profit, just enjoyment.

Chapter 1

I could feel a soft, sea breeze as I opened my eyes slowly. Sleep still clung to the edges of my consciousness as I blinked several times, my vision slowly becoming clearer as my brain began to wake up. There was the cry of a seagull from outside as I sat up, rubbing my forehead tenderly. Mornings just weren't my thing. Why? Besides the fact that I looked like Crusader who had been in the field for a year without bathing, I could barely stand, and my hair reminded me of a wet mop…morning's were also the time when I had to do the most work. Sighing, I swung my bare legs over the edge of my small bed, stretching my arms above me head. My room was small, lacked furniture of almost every sort, smelled unpleasant, but as I told myself day after day, it was better than the street. I stood, cracking my neck on both sides. It was a disgusting habit, my mother always told me, and it revolted her. Probably why I tried to do it only whenever she was around. My linen bed-robe clung to my figure as I moved to the open window, bare feet padding softly across the wooden floorboards. Resting my arms on the windowsill, I leaned over and stuck my head out into the relatively fresh morning air. I'd gotten up late it seemed; the merchants below had already opened shop and were shouting out their prices to the growing crowds. Guards marched through the throngs of peasants, hands always hovering over the handles of their swords. I gazed over the city of Acre, holding my chin in the palm of my hand. Ships could be seen sailing in and out of port in the distance, no doubt filled with either goods or troops. The smell of the sea drifted all across the city, though for the most part the smell of shit and decay covered it up. Shaking my head, I pulled myself back into the room, closing the shutters of the window.

Opening my wardrobe, I took out a simple dress and laid it across my bed. Reaching down to grasp the lower hem of my bed-robe, I lifted it over me head, shrugging out of the fabric before tossing it into a corner of the room. Standing for a minute, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the air on my bare skin. I have a nice body, though that might just be selfish opinion in my case. But I'm telling you, I notice those stares I get when I'm walking through the market. Shaking my head, I quickly grabbed the dress on my mattress, slipping into it. I would hardly be surprised if some street urchin decided to open my shutters and gape in at any second. It'd happened in the past, usually when I was dressed though. That was the downside of having your bedroom adjoining the roof of the next house over. Doing up the bindings of the dress along my back, I quickly straightened up, running my hands gently along the linen clothing to smooth out any creases. Going to the counter, I picked up a small comb and started evening out my hair. It was taut and knotted, not to mention overly greasy. My weekly trip to the bathhouse was tomorrow, though, so I tried not dwell on the fact that my hair felt how it did. In this city, bathing once a week was a blessing from God himself. Besides, next to the other girls around, I looked pretty good even without a bath. At least, that's what it seemed like to me. Finishing with my hair, I took a few last moments to check that my dress covered my body properly, my breasts weren't lopsided, and that my face was mostly free of odd bumps. Glancing to the counter, I picked up the small carrying-pouch and fastened it around my waist. It held any money I might need, a few odds and ends, and a small knife. In this town…safe was better than sorry in most cases. Content with my appearance, I quickly slipped on a pair of shoes and hurried downstairs. The steps groaned with each step I took, the old wood protesting any weight put upon it. Reaching the bottom, I turned and headed for the kitchen. The smell of vegetables and bread filled the room as I quickly picked up a knife, beginning to slice a carrot into smaller pieces.

"You slept in." My mother beside me skinned a potato as she spoke. It was a statement, not a question, as were most sentences with that woman. "Your father already left for the docks." I nodded, cutting quickly with the small kitchen knife. My father loaded and unloaded cargo onto or from the ships down at the port with the other dockhands. I was happy he found such a good job. Usually, he was gone before I got up, and back after I was asleep. Since my father is a vulgar, easily irritated bastard, I think it's a great thing if I see as little of him as possible. Plus, the bruises he tends to gift me with take forever to go away.

"I need you to go get another dozen eggs from the market today, Sara. We're out again." Groaning, I stopped slicing to regard my mother with annoyed disbelief.

"I just went and got some for you less than a few days ago, how can we possibly be out already?" Not answering, my mother continued to skin the potato. Finishing, she tossed it into a small basket and picked up another. Shrugging, I went back to cutting.

"Ah, never mind. No doubt that pig ate all of them within a matter of hou…" I was cut off by my mother whirling about as she slapped me across the face, causing me to drop the knife and cry out slightly. Glaring, she went back to slicing the vegetables.

"I told you never to refer to your father as such. You're sixteen, learn to show some respect." I glared right back at her, rubbing my face. Turning, I stormed out of the kitchen, heading for the door.

"There are a few schillings on the table. Pick up more fish on your way back as well, please." Snatching the money from the small, wooden table, I stuffed it into my pouch and marched briskly out of the house, slamming the door behind me. Why she even cared for the stinking husk that I called 'father' was beyond me, especially since it was not only I who received bruises when he was at home. Sighing, I tilted my head back and breathed slowly to calm myself. Getting upset helped no one, and the scene that just played inside the house wasn't rare in the least. Tipping my head back down, I brushed a few strands of loose hair from my face and began to walk. The sky was a light shade of blue, the smoke from the city adding a grey overtone to the color. Clouds dotted the sky, appearing sparsely high above. The masses of peasants that populated the city streets hustled and bustled as I headed towards the market, joining the throng. A man bumped into me, mumbling something as he passed. I barely noticed, and continued walking. In the crowded, narrow streets, it was a true miracle if you weren't jostled by passer-byes at least a few dozen times a day. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I passed by a pile of human waste that had accumulated in the streets, hurrying past it. Pushing my way around several women in front of me, I made my way for the market area. But quickly, I stopped dead in my tracks, thinking. There was no real hurry to get the things my mother had asked of me; especially since that meant coming home as soon as I'd bought them. I had all day…why not use it? Smiling to myself, I nodded. There was a cry of complaint from a man behind me, as he roughly shoved me to the side.

"Ge' out of my way, ya stinkin' whore." Glaring after him, I spit to the side before turning, ducking quickly into a nearby alleyway. The street was far too slow for my taste, and while the back alleys tended to be slightly more… 'dangerous' …they certainly were much quicker. My strides quickened and grew in length as I moved past old crates and crumbling buildings, heading towards the upper district. This part of the city was in such poor condition it was pathetic. Several attacks on the city by the heathen Saracens had left many houses destroyed, and many missing walls or roofs. With most of the damage being done to those with little to no money, the owners of say houses simply chose to abandon their former homes, rather than pay for repairs. I breezed my hand over the cold stone of one such building, looking up at it. The side of the second floor that faced towards the walls of the city ad a gaping hole in it, a large boulder still lodged within its walls. Stones and rubble littered the ground around the building, and I absent-mindedly kicked some smaller pieces of stone to the side of the alley. Resuming my walk, I trailed my hand along the wall before letting it fall to my side. Outside the alley, the sounds of the city continued to ring; a horse trotting across the cobblestones, a merchant shouting his wares. Smiling, I turned a corner, heading deeper into the city. Movement caught my eye, and I turned around just as a pair of hands shoved me back, knocking me flat on my rear. Gasping with shock and mild pain, I looked up to find my attacker.

A shirtless, half-naked man stood above me, holding his hands around his head. His eyes looked about wildly as he played with a handful of ragged hair. Mumbling and giggling, he moved towards me once again as he reached out a dirty, grime-covered hand. I slid back away from the man, quickly rising to my feet as my eyes widened with shock. The man was obviously infected with some sort of sickness, be it in mind or body. Turning, I fled in the opposite direction, wanting to be as far from the man as possible. Dashing through the twisting back-alley, I panted heavily as my feet flew across the ground. Rounding a bend, I burst back into the main street, breathing heavily. I placed a hand over my heart, feeling the rapid pulse against my chest. Several citizens looked at me with amused curiosity as they passed. Sure, it was funny for them. They weren't just confronted with a sick, no doubt insane man who wanted to kill them. Straightening up, I brushed the dirt off my dress and ran a hand through my hair, regaining my composure. I turned my head, checking my surroundings. Amazingly, the alley had led out right where I needed to go; the gate to the upper-district of Acre. A large fountain sat in the center of the square, the water bubbling pleasantly from the stone. Statues decorated the area about the gate, with guards posted every few paces. Snide bastards, even the entrance to the district of the rich made the rest of the city pale in comparison. Shrugging, I headed to a nearby bench, taking a seat carefully on one edge. Another plump woman sat on the other side of the stone bench, humming to herself as he rocked a small baby in her arms. Leaning back against the wall behind me, I closed my eyes; waiting for the friend I knew would emerge from the gates sooner or later.

Authors Notes: God those insane guys irritated me in the game.. For future referance, pfennigs and schillings were the currency used during the Crusades, and the names will pop up frequently during the story. I'm trying to keep things as realistic to the middle-ages as possible, which is why greasy hair and not bathing for up to weeks on end don't seem like such a big deal to the main character. Back then, heck, it was socially acceptable to smell like human-produce, remember.