Hey, guys! This is, what, chapter six? Well, I haven't recieved a single review. So, not to sound greedy or anything, but I don't know if anyone's even reading this! Just drop an "It's good" or an "It's bad", or something! Of course, longer, more helpful reviews are more appreciated. There's my allotted rant. Enjoy! Also; this is a short one, but I didn't want to commit to an Interlude, a Briefing, and a Mission each time, so I just kinda winged it here. Next one should be about twice as long.
Altaϊr awoke from a deep sleep and a troubled dream, in which he was being surrounded by the men he had killed. The warm, comforting blanket of his conviction, of his Order, kept the evil spirits at bay, and that kept him safe. He awoke from that dream each night, and then prayed for his safe deliverance. This morning was no different.
He lifted himself off of his knees and stepped away from his bedside. Cracking his neck and wrists, he donned his wrist gauntlets, making sure his hidden blade was clean and sharp. He then pulled on his robes, attaching the ornate silver belt and his sword. He also pulled his shoulder-strap on, sliding his short blade into it. Finally, he attached his throwing knives to his belt. He was ready for the day- or, more accurately, the mission.
Stepping out of the diner thirty minutes later, with just enough fruit in him to keep away the pangs of hunger, he walked into Al Mualim's office. He stood in front of his desk and the man who led his noble order turned to face him. A small smile danced across his lips. "Ah, Altaϊr! Good to see you. You are prepared, I assume, for the task at hand?" Without waiting for an answer, he plowed on to finish his speech.
"The man that you are hunting today has sinned against us in many ways. His name is Pietr Pamun, and he has openly insulted our way of life. He is the owner of a large city, one south of Jerusalem called Arcilah. When I say owner, I mean that it is he who holds the most sway over the people there. Our bureau in the area has suffered, for someone discovered its location and vandalized it before sending city guards to arrest Pomon, our agent there. Pomon managed to escape, and is staying at an allied inn. You will meet him there, a place called The Haven for All- appropriate, in this case. Speak to him, and receive the rest of your instruction. Go swiftly, my friend."
With that, he turned to his books and began to study one in particular, although Altaϊr felt that eavesdropping would be rude. The Assassin turned and walked quickly down the stairs, heading out the front door. At the city's limits, he took a horse and rode to Arcilah, following the signposts when necessary. Once at the outskirts, he left his horse at a pile of hay and proceeded to the poor district, where he could pass unmolested through the streets to the inn.
He stepped through the large, wooden doors and saw the man at the desk look up. "Are you here for a room or for food and drink? Or, perhaps, both?" He looked hopeful, as if he didn't get many customers. What a shame.
"Neither, friend. I am here to see a man named Pomon. Can you direct me to his room?" The man was disappointed, glancing at his shoes before looking back up at Altaϊr.
"Ah, yes, of course. Go up the stairs to your left and head to the end of the hall- you'll walk right into it." Altaϊr thanked the man and left a few coins on the desk. "Ah- ah, thank you, kind sir!" Altaϊr nodded and followed the man's directions, heading upstairs and straight down the corridor, knocking thrice on the door there. A man opened it, and the first thing Altaϊr noted was that this man was in bad condition. It looked as though he had been beaten, and several spots on his face were purple and swollen. Other than that, Altaϊr noted that he was in very good physical shape- dressed in homely peasant's attire of ragged pants and a tattered shirt, he probably could have given the guards a run for their money.
Pomon scratched at his scraggly black beard and urged Altaϊr into a nearby chair. "Please, excuse my appearance- I assume you know my story." After Altaϊr had spoken in the affirmative, he continued. "This man, Pietr Pamun, is giving a small address to his people today- one that is about my escape, no doubt. He will be sending out the hounds, so I need you to kill him after he has mentioned me, and then warn the people to stay away." He gazed into Altaϊr's eyes intently. "Please- my life, and, perhaps, the safety of our great Order, depends on this. Do not let them kill me, I beg of you."
"Indeed, I can see that your words are true. When does this speech begin?"
"In thirty minutes exactly. Go with haste, my friend, please!"
"Indeed. One last question; is he giving the address from the balcony of his palace?"
"Yes, he never ventures outside anymore. He's always under heavy guard."
"Understood. I'll handle it."