Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Assassin's Creed
Warning: This chapter is self-beta'd
We crawl on our knees for you,
Under a sky no longer blue,
We sweat all day long for you.
But now we sow seeds to see us through,
'Cause sometimes dreams just don't come true,
Look now at what they've done to you.
"Re-Education Through Labor" by: Rise Against
Chapter Three: Irony
3rd Person POV – 1 week later
The female assassin strode casually towards The Mentor's office, thinking about the group of four assassins that arrived earlier that week. She hadn't seen much of them, except from a distance or in passing. Even then, they didn't say much to her. Actually – they didn't say anything at all. Instead they carried on as if she didn't even exist – completely ignoring her greetings and presence in general. She'd heard rumors of females being treated badly farther North… she just didn't believe it was to this extent. Sure, in this country woman weren't equal to men, but even then they were held in at least some reguard.
So, even when the four treated her rudely, she just passed it off as part of their culture and moved along.
The young Assassin girl skipped into The Mentors office, smiling. All four Assassin's that she'd been thinking of were sitting in a circle already and were now staring at her with intense glairs, though the ones called Altaïr and Malik's were by far the worst. She shifted uneasily before confronting The Mentor.
"The mission was a success, sir." She announced evenly.
"Ah. That's good. I was just beginning a meeting. Please stay and listen to it?" The Mentor asked; his sharp eyes boring into hers.
She dipped her head in respect. "Of course." She chose a chair away from the others, near the window and listened patiently.
"Now, It's come to my attention that the church has been and still is taking most of the money from the public unwillingly. They are sending trained guards to kidnap any person who doesn't fund the church and beat them until they cough up the money. Not only that, but the money isn't actually going to the church itself. Instead the money is being used to make armor for the upcoming war. It seems that the church had decided to fight the Assassins instead of assisting us." The Mentor looked around the room.
The Assassin girl snorted, "The irony is killing me."
The four Assassins looked at her with confused expressions, but The Mentor smiled slightly before continuing on, "Now, I've narrowed our targets down to four men."
"Only four? I'm impressed." Al Mualim jibed.
"The first is a priested named Afzal. He is the one who collects money from the sermons and keeps the logs. If you don't pay up – he knows. He also chooses the bodies to take money from. He keeps the books on him at all times. He has a sharp eye and can practically smell money. Of course, he grew up in the money world. His investments are impeccable and he knows how to throw his weight around. If we can cut off all of his contacts, then kill him, it will help cripple the other three."
"What does he look like?" Kinja asked.
"Nose so high up in the air that he might as well be looking at the sky, mousy brown hair that's going grey, ramrod skinny, pale. Demented. Creepy. You know, the usual." I answered.
"Next is a man called Kylal. Through the church, he accesses tax money and spends it for himself and his own personal army. Practically every guard you see is funded by him and working for him, though not commanded by him. He is and ex-mercenary that has supposedly found his calling. The third man will be the hardest to kill: Jacques Amadieu. He's the brains of the operation and the right hand man of the group. He covers the tracks and gets rid of all evidence. He also plans everything. The man's got a sixth sense for danger and can spot a threat on the horizon any day. He also had war experience. He's not only one of the commanders of the army, but he's easily the richest man in Georgia since Raylof's death. Last is Trystan Valéry. He's also rich and powerful. He has an army back in France and heavy ties to noble blood. He hand chooses every person that walks through the church doors, conducts the sermons, and assigns the guards to the church."
"If we can pick off his soldiers on the outskirts of town outside the church's power, we might be able to force Trystan to spread his forces thinner. The farther away from the church's influence, the easier they'll be to question and kill, right? If not that, we can at least attempt to get our hands on some of the captains. If the leaders die and there is no one to give orders, he'll have to recruit less trained soldiers to give commands. They'll figure out our killing pattern and become paranoid about taking charge. It will give us the upper hand in battle when they are being led by inexperienced soldiers." The girl suggested.
"Yes, but instead of replacing the leaders, he'll just bring more soldiers in and make them into bigger groups, making it harder to fight."
"Well what about their rations? If we can cut off a couple of their caravans they might starve or have an uprising?" Kinja asked.
The girl shook her head, "No. If they lose their supplies, they take what they lost from the villagers – no matter how old or how poor. That is something that we cannot afford."
Malik nodded in agreement, "Very true. I do believe that if we can somehow scout out the church and find their plans, we may be able to beat them from the inside out."
"The church is attracted to the money. Perhaps buying our way in would be safer." Al Mualim suggested.
"That's would cost an arm and a leg, though." The girl muttered.
Kinja glanced at her wearily, "They cut off your arm and leg? I didn't see any cripples when entering the city… perhaps they were all in the church already?"
The Mentor laughed, "No child, it's just a saying. To cost an arm and a leg is saying the same thing as costing an extravagant amount of coin."
The boy's eyes widened in realization before nodding slowly.
"So then which are we doing?" Altaïr finally questioned.
The Mentor glanced at Al Mualim then sighed, "We'll have to sneak in. There is no way we can buy in."
"Again with the irony. Really, at this rate you might as well carry your own wood into the church and start a fire." The female Assassin commented dryly.
This time the Mentor glared at her. "That is not appropriate, Anima."
"But it's true." She pointed out casually.
The Mentor let out an exasperated breath before dismissing everybody with a wave of his hand.
A/N: I know, I know… it was shorter than the others. I don't know if I like this chapter or not. The ending kinda makes me uneasy, but I suppose that if I stick to the plotline chapter by chapter it will smooth out.