Assassin's Creed IV Black Flag: Retribution
Hey guys! I got a fav on chapter 1 so thank you to Tony Jr, it would be great if you could drop a review! Thanks!
I DO NOT OWN ASSASSIN'S CREED. UBISOFT DOES.
2
The two men stood by the clutter of bodies for a second, when Edward turned towards Will.
"Well, Will -"
Suddenly came a noise – 'SHINK' – as the contraption on Will's right wrist bracer activated. It was a concealed blade, and as he flexed his wrist the blade sprung out, reaching just past his finger, in the same movement he jabbed towards Edward's neck.
But Edward was a seasoned fighter, with razor sharp reflexes. Just in time he caught Will's wrist, and twisted it around, catching him in an arm-lock. But Will was a fighter too. He lashed out with his foot, catching Edward in the stomach, making him double over. At this moment Will drew his sword again and slashed downwards for a killing strike, but Edward had a trick up his sleeve – literally. He sprang his own right arm wrist-blade and raised it above his head – and it somehow did not shatter upon impact with the arcing sword. Instead a huge clang sounded, and the sword slid down the blade, and caught at a clever hook placed at its beginning. Will tugged but it wouldn't just budge. Swiftly Edward lunged upwards with his head, straightening up. He pushed away with his hidden blade, and the two became untangled.
Like a flash, the two drew pistols at exactly the same moment, and both were trained at each other's heads.
"So, Thatcher, it appears we are at an impasse. Why did you attack me?"
"You saw me shoot du Calors. You killed the guards. Meaning you want to get the reward money yourself from handing me over."
Edward lowered his pistol, cackling wildly.
"I detest du Calors as much as you do, if not more, kiddo. In fact, I was there to kill him myself. Look at the crest on my blades, they match yours – even though you haven't earned yours. We fight for the same cause, although you don't know it."
At this, Will too lowered his pistol and smiled sheepishly.
"Apologies, Kenway. You fight like a devil in a man's clothing, matey."
"Touché, Will. Touché. What's say me and you head down to the tavern – set the record straight?"
Will grinned, in a cheeky tone, "Of course, good sir. Good golly, you are sophisticated."
Edward, in response, clipped him over the ear – good naturedly.
Edward slammed his tankard down on the table. He and Will were sat at Edward's favourite, English owned tavern – The Loose Cannon. He did not flinch at the strong taste of the rum, but grinned with relish – as a seasoned pirate he had had too much of the stuff for it to affect him so badly. It turned out Will had never tried it – he tentatively sipped it, before promptly cringing horribly and spewing the dark liquid onto the floor. Edward guffawed at the younger man's misfortunes. They carried on drinking for a few minutes (Will preferring a softer Carribean fruit punch this time) before they finally got down to business.
"Well then, Billy-boy, what is your story?"
Will took a deep breath, and began; "A couple of months ago, Thierry du Calors came to my family's farm. He wanted to renovate the area into a sugar plantation – something about it being an astute investment. He offered my father large sums of money, but our family have owned the farm for nearly a hundred years, and my father was strongly against slavery anyway-"
"Hear, hear!"
"So we refused. A few days later, he came back – in the dead of night. This time he had twenty men with him. I wanted to stay behind, but my Dad made me get my mother and sister to safety. My Dad and older brother, James, fought like dogs – but against twenty men they were overwhelmed and taken prisoner. By day they work on the plantation on which we used to live, and by night they are kept prisoner at the Castillo."
Edward had gone serious again, and sat with a grimace on his face.
"I'm sorry, lad."
"Don't be. I have one advantage over du Calors – he doesn't know I exist."
Edward perked up slightly, "Genius, Will. You can't fight a phantom."
"Quite," replied Will, sipping his drink, "Now it's your turn.""
"Well," began Edward. "In 1715, I left my home in Bristol to become a privateer. However… complications meant I became a pirate. I have my own ship and crew – The Jackdaw. But anyway, I became entangled in a struggle between two organisations The Templars and The Assassins. For nearly seven years I was oblivious to this, seeking personal gain, but after losing almost all of my friends, I realised some things were more important than riches. I joined the Assassins to fight the Templars, who seek to keep the world safe by enslaving it, and draining it of all life and soul. The Assassins seek the same goal, yet by different means – we seek to liberate the world of corrupt leaders who care nothing for the rights of the common man – only for their pockets. We fight for equality, we trust the good in humanity – the Templars do not."
Will took all this in quietly, before replying, "I received these robes and weapons from my father just before he made me flee. He said he didn't want 'them' to get hold of it, for his honour. It makes sense now. He would never speak of what he did before he was a farmer, he always skated around it. I do know that he made a lot of enemies. He also had a branding matching the symbol on these hidden blades on his left index finger, and you have one too – I doubt it's a coincidence." Will wiped a single tear from his eye.
"Yes, Will. If he bore that mark, then he was an Assassin. It's all right, lad." Edward patted his shoulder. "You could fight alongside The Assassins if you wanted – du Calors is the head of the Templars in Cuba – you could carry on the legacy of your father."
Will nodded resolutely, "I will not rest 'til du Calors falls, and my father and brother are freed."
Edward nodded back sadly. Another young life destroyed by the Templars.
"That's the spirit lad." That's the spirit."