Sorry about not updating for a while...a LONG while...here is the latest update, anyway. Enjoy!

Ezio awoke in a dark chamber, with a few other men on cots similar to the one he was on. He sat up, and rubbed his head; in his mind, he pictured what happened the day before; the Emperor's death, the bandits, the guards…

Their faces, as life drained from their eyes. The image was burned into Ezio's mind, he couldn't get it out. It was there, as if he was cursed with this pain. Perhaps guilt and morality finally caught up with him. His thoughts from Skingrad rang in his mind…he wanted all those people dead, and by his hand, too. Now he merely wished not to shed any more blood. He saw the uselessness of taking a man's life; the vanity of such a sacrifice.

But now, here he was. His mind was set on one word: Assassin. Ezio could never return to his old life, the life of a Skingrad Nobleman, that was for sure. His conscience would get to him too quickly, he would be found out. He couldn't stay in Cheydinhal, too obvious. He had, after all, only narrowly escaped the guards. What other cities could he ever hide in?

The image remained in his mind, he couldn't rid himself of it. Their eyes, rolling back as their souls left this world prematurely. Was it necessary? Perhaps. Was it right? It could never be justified. Ezio was a cold-blooded killer now, and had to act like one. Or so he would like to think; it would certainly make life easier if that was as easily said as done. Before this, he never really put himself in the situation of a murderer, never read past the lines of any of the stories. What happens after the murder? Your life is ruined as well. Stained with the blood of another man.

This "Assassin Order" they called themselves, are nothing more than a band of eccentric murderers. His father and brother were members of this band, and have been for years, it seems. Why not join them? His life would remain mostly intact. Other than the fact he would be a hired killer.

What gave a man the right to choose whether another man got to live or not? When is it a justifiable action? Nothing and never. He looked at the floor, staring off into deep space. His whole life has been about death, and he is only now discovering that, He needed to get back to Skingrad, and quickly, too.

He looked up, seeing the other cots around him. People laid in them, silently resting. It must have been night time, but Ezio couldn't know for sure. He walked over to the large, wooden door, and opened it, looking around the silent, echoing hall. He stepped out, and walked as silently as he could towards the wherever he thought the exit was.

As he traveled in one direction, he slowly got a bad feeling about it. A door was before him, but he felt no air from behind it: it wasn't an escape. It might lead to one, though. I have to believe that. He opened the door, and before him stood a man in white hood and matching robes, a cape dangling on his back as opposed to what his father and brother wore, draped along their shoulder. Two others, dressed like him, but not as regally, looked at him.

"Master," one said, looking at him, "He's awake."

The hooded one turned around from what he was doing, sitting in a chair reading something. "Ah, the wandering one awakens. Come in, please. We have much to discuss."

"Who are you?" Ezio asked, not taking a step further.

"I cannot give you my name yet," he said, "But I am the Denmaster of Cheydinhal's Assassin Order."

"The Denmaster?" Ezio asked, confused.

"I see you are still new to being one of us," the Denmaster explained, "The Assassin Brotherhood has a branch in each city. The leaders are called Denmasters, and report directly to the Grandmaster of our Order, a name few will ever know, and a face fewer will ever see."

"Why be so mysterious if you want me to join?" Ezio questioned, leaning on the doorframe. As far as he could tell, they could definitely kill him, but didn't want him dead. Yet.

"You already have joined. You spilled blood in the name of the innocent, and then repeated the act to preserve his lifestyle." Ezio twitched. The blood he had shed so far, in the past few days…he suddenly felt sick. The Denmaster seemed to sense this turmoil. "…but you've never killed before…" he muttered. He signaled something with his hand, and another person walked into the room, looking at him.

"So, the newbie not okay with killing yet?" Ezio nearly puked. They tossed the sentiment around so easily, as though human life was a product, and disposable. "So, kid, may I ask where you're from?"

"Obviously somewhere not as barbaric as this," Ezio said, retaining his nausea and anger as best as he could. "How can you do this…just talk about killing someone, like, like it was some goddamned sport!" Everyone in the room looked at him, like they had heard that before: they probably have. "Why would I tell you where I'm from? So you can go there and kill everyone there? Why would I tell you my name, so you could find me and kill me whenever you wanted?"

The Denmaster stepped forth. "It seems you know enough of us to know what we do, but not our intentions."

"Intentions?" Ezio started, and stopped there. He looked away from the Assassins in the room. "I don't care of your 'intentions'! What gives you the right to kill? To decide who deserves to die?" The new one looked at him, almost outraged.

"Listen, ass, do you think it's ever a light decision?" he said, snapping at the young man, "We don't spill blood that doesn't need spilling! Take into account, would it be worse if we—" the Denmaster cut him off with a hand signal.

"I can tell from your accent and your ideology that you are of Skingrad descent," he said, getting a suspicious look from Ezio. "I must ask, since we've been disconnected from them for a while, now, how is Giovanni?"

"Giovanni is fine," Ezio said, pointedly. "And what do you mean, 'out of contact'?"

"Usually our Brotherhood is in constant connection, carrier pigeons being our main communication," he said, "Giovanni never mailed his report in." Ezio looked at the Denmaster. He was tempted to just leave, and make a run for Skingrad. Leave all of this behind, get back to his life.

"Hopefully we'll hear from him soon, then. Until then, since you're here, I need to evaluate your skill." Ezio raised a brow.

"Evaluate my skill? As a killer?" he asked, and stood to full height. "I will not oblige, sir."

"You wish to return to Skingrad, correct?"

"You think you're gonna stop me?"

"Having some extra training under your belt couldn't hurt, against bandits and such. Oh! But that reminds me…" the Denmaster muttered, "…we have a small problem of our own."

"Count me out of it,"

"I wish we could, kid, I really do. You managed to sneak into the gate somehow, we're all trying to figure that out, but you won't be able to get out."

"Why not?"

"The captain of the guard, Ulrich Leland, has the whole town on lockdown. Killing that guard didn't help our situation any, either." The Denmaster explained. "He is a tyrant, and is draining the town's resources right out from under all of our noses, including the Count."

"Why can't you have him killed?" Ezio asked, folding his arms.

"We're in the middle of a lockdown, no one in or out," he explained, "But you, you got in somehow. An unidentified person, someone who can't be connected to anything or anyone here. You, kid, you have power. Enough power that Leland will be after you, whoever you are. You scare him, the only shadow in the town he can't eradicate, even in his own death."

"So you want me to kill him because I'm the only one who can't be connected, that's it? I'm sure your 'Brotherhood' could clean up any messes you make."

"If only that we true, kid," he took a breath. "We can cover official press, but rumors? Those are sentient thoughts, things we can't control. Things that shouldn't," he paused for suspense, "be controlled." He gazed at Ezio as he thought about it. On one hand, he couldn't leave without Leland's death. On the other, he really abhorred the thought if murder for one's own purposes.

"Is there really no way for me to leave otherwise?" Ezio asked, defeated at last.

"If there were another option, we'd be exploiting it as much as possible right now." The Denmaster replied, turning to walk away with his guards. "At the same time, we need to make sure you can do this. There's something ominous about Leland…something…dark."

An Assassin walked up to him, holding white robes similar to his. "Wear these," he ordered. "They are to keep your identity safe."

Ezio muttered something under his breath, about being forced to work with a band of murderers. He walked into a changing room, dark as the rest of the underground headquarters, and pulled his shirt off. Holding the robes before him, he took a deep breath. He was wearing their clothes. Their dirty, murderous clothes.

After putting them on, he felt their softness. They were flexible, breathable. He launched his hidden blade, and it came cleanly out of the sleeve, as though the two were made for eachother. The robes weren't anywhere near as fancy as the Denmaster's, or even the Skingrad Assassin attire. But it would do the job of hiding his identity, he thought. Pulling the hood over his head, Ezio walked out of the changing room, looking at the man, who was holding the Captain's sword.

"Any run-ins with the Blades, kid?" the man asked, looking along the blade of the weapon.

"Yes, why?"

"Just wondering, this is a finely crafted weapon." He remarked. "You didn't, perchance, work with the Blades, did you?"

"Why would that matter?" Ezio asked, yanking the sword out of the man's hands.

"It doesn't, I was just wondering." He looked at Ezio, "You do know the Blades are the Assassin's rivals, correct?"

"I don't care about a rivalry that isn't my own. I dress as one of you, and work for you, but I am not one of you." Ezio said, pointedly. Gazing at the blade, images of the Emperor's dead body came to mind. A tear fell from Ezio's eye.

"Anyway, you're finely equipped kid. Having your own Hidden Blade was a real plus." The man said, "but you'll need to be fully armed. A knife would do you good, as well as throwing knives."

"I believe I already said I am not becoming a full-fledged Assassino." Ezio said, grabbing a spare sheath for the blade, and strapping it onto his belt. "I have no need to be 'fully armed', as you put it."

"Skingrad for sure." The man said. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"No," Ezio muttered, "I'll keep that to myself." He sheathed the blade on his hip, it's weight oddly welcome.

"Anyway, it would be a good idea to research your target, first." The man said, "That way you can know what you're doing. Your name is John Bronx. He was murdered earlier by some guards, but I made sure his death went unrecorded for now."

"Taking the name of a dead man?"

"Unless you want to be known as the 'Hooded Man of Cheydinhal'." The man joked. "Leland did not order his death, making this your opportunity." He looked at a map, drawing Ezio near. "The man you're looking for is Garrus Derelliun, second-in-command of the guard. Silently against his captain."

"Grazie for the information," Ezio said, standing up. "I'll be off at once."

"Oh, before you're gone…" the man said, standing up, "Don't speak with that weird Skingrad accent. It'll give you away quickly."

"I…how do I not speak like this?" Ezio asked, now self conscious of his voice.

"Well, maybe not be so strong with your throat, let off with your tongue…and not breaking out into random words in your language." Ezio looked at him, a confused look in his eye. "Come on, just try to talk…like me."

"Like you? I can try…" he said, and took a breath, thinking of something the man said to repeat. "…'Unless you want to be known as the "Hooded Man of Cheydinhal".'" He looked at the man, who almost doubled over laughing. "This is foolish, I'll be going now." He stood up to leave, humiliation burning in his cheeks. He was glad for the hood; it hid his blushing face.

Another Assassin led him out the door, and sunlight of a new day flooded his vision. He squinted for a bit, looking at the sky, and leveled his gaze. The town was again in a state of peace, or as peaceful as possible at the moment. An air of suspicion hung around the town. Garrus…where would he start looking for the second in command officer of the town, without bumping into too many guards?

He walked toward the town square, where he remembered seeing the Captain. Maybe the heavily armored brute was Garrus? Come to think of it, why didn't Leland chase him as well? Ezio rounded the corner, then hid behind it, seeing the Commander and a young, blonde-haired man wearing similar armor, talking with eachother. He moved as close to them as he could without being heard.

"…murdered yesterday. I can't believe it…I…" the young man, presumably Garrus, said.

"I expected you to watch the gate…" Leland said, in a scolding, angered voice. "…and you failed. Someone got in. What if someone got out, too?" he slapped the man, sending him to the ground.

"I…I don't know, sir…" the man whimpered, pain obviously controlling his every movmenent.

"I want this mole found, and identified, so we can keep a watch on him. He's already killed three people, as you've recently been informed." A feeling of regret filled Ezio's stomach; three people who would never again see the light of day.

"Y…yes sir…" Garrus muttered, standing up, and walking in Ezio's direction. Reacting on instinct, he stood and started to walk the other direction, but before he could get far, Garrus rounded the corner.

"Hey, who are you?" Garrus asked, jogging to catch up with Ezio.

"My name is John," Ezio replied, doing his best to replicate the man from the bunker's voice. It ended up sounding like a middle-eastern accent.

"John? Haven't seen you in a while."

"There's been good reason," Ezio replied, looking at Garrus, but not showing his face. "I need to kill the Captain."

"Talk like that, and I have a feeling you'll be dead much faster." Garrus replied. "Why?"

"I want to leave, I don't understand why I can't."

"The Captain has his reasons…" he said, and added on the side, "…I guess…"

"Can you tell me anything that can help?"

"Nothing that'll really make sense to an outsider." Garrus muttered. "What makes you think the Captain's death will mean you can leave? I presume you've heard of the murders…"

"Garrus, I have to be honest with you,"

"How did you know my name?"

"My name isn't John, I am from Skingrad. I need out."

"You're the murder…" Garrus muttered, stepping away.

"Wait!" Ezio yelled, Garrus' face changing from fear to anger.

"You've already killed three people, and you're after a fourth? Worse still, you want me to help!"

"Wait, Garrus," Ezio said, getting the guard's attention. "I mean no ill will to Cheydinhal. The guards I killed were wronging the citizens."

"Really?"

"It was after the fact I learned of Leland's fines being the reason. I acted based on a guard threatening to kill a beggar on the spot." He took a breath. "Anyway, I need out, you need tyranny removed. Tell me what I need to know."

"The Captain is going to hold a Mass Execution tomorrow, where he tortures everyone who missed their taxes in public." Garrus explained, defeated by reason, "It is there that you should attack. But I warn you, if you do attack: prepare." He looked at the hooded man, gauging him to be unarmed. "You'll need a few tricks up your sleeve: the Captain has exceptional fighting ability, beyond anything I've seen before."

"I'll try to make it quick," Ezio replied. "Grazie, however, for helping me."

"Take my knife, it'll help." Garrus said, handing him a knife. "If I gave you my sword, the attack would be expected and we'd both be out on our asses."

"Again, grazie for the help."

"Now, get! I never saw you." Garrus muttered. Tomorrow at Mass. He walked off in a different direction than Garrus, headed for the Temple of the Nine. The Gallows were probably where the Mass would be held, and Ezio needed to know what it looked like, and to know where what would be. He entered the Temple, the large stone door creaking behind him. It was a slight surprise to find that his robes matched the monks' robes. It would make getting away a little easier.

He found some monks and a guard standing by the altar, the monks guarding something. Ezio got closer to hear.

"You two, come with me," the guard said, "Lord Ulrich said to collect everyone who refused to pay taxes. You will spend the night in jail."

"Please, officer," said the monk, his voice bearing honest sadness. "We couldn't pay…we have no money…"

"You refused to pay, sir. You're coming with me." Ezio walked behind the guard, readying to kill. No…he thought, looking at the two, there must be another way…

"Signore," Ezio said, the guard spun, "Good night." He punched the guard in the face, shaking his hand in pain afterward, sending the guard into the altar. He stood back up, holding his face. Ezio grabbed him by both sides of his head, and slammed his knee into his face, knocking him clean out. He looked at the two monks, and muttered, "Get out of here, as quickly as you can."

As soon as they disappeared, Ezio walked away from the unconscious guard, opening the door to the outside. He had to save everyone he could, but if guards around the city were all getting beaten by a mysterious monk, Ulrich would get suspicious.

He decided to head back to the Assassin headquarters after a few minutes, thinking remaining scarce would be best. It was odd, heading off for bed while the sun was still high in the sky, but he did it anyway. The old, shambled building stood before him, the door open to him and few others. He opened the door, and went inside: tomorrow, at Mass. That was when he was killing Leland, and getting out of there.