Painting the Town Red (Open, Templars and Assassins - Hunter Event)

It was a Friday, quite damp in the streets of New York. Alleyways would be used as shortcuts, the streets were packed, the biggest crowds New York has ever seen in years.
People from all over America, be they support British Loyalists or the American Freedom fighters, they all came to buy and sell in the market.
It was almost too perfect.
One forgotten alley, away from the crowds stood a mountain of a man, large red coat, wearing a red hood to conceal his great white beard, eye-patch over his left eye and bright blue eye. He wore a belt with all sorts of explosives, darts and knives on them...on his back, a large blunderbuss.
Today was important. Today was the day he would get a little sense of revenge of what is to come on a long trail or death and blood.
He begun to climb, slowly, up a building.


White robes and red stripes, they were not many in number, but they were certainly a force to be dealt with. Assassin's like these were traditional, they were waiting for their chance.
The crowds outside would cover a Templar attack, and they knew it; yet they had nowhere to run.
It was a damp, musky room with a single oak table with weapons piled on it, the robed figures were arming themselves. Little light came in through the boarded up windows, but they knew it was going to end today. They would not go out without a fight.


Disguise was needed in an operation like this. The Templars had planned this operation so long before it was going to happen. They knew exactly where the Assassin's were and when they were most weak. Today was that day.
Disguised as citizens, shop owners, British guards...they surrounded the hideout with an iron grip. Any movement from inside or outside would be the signal to attack; chaos would ensue. The patrols were already told that if any Assassin is seen escaping, the guards will have permission to fire on sight.
Today was an important day. The Assassin's must die.


A smirk covered the hooded, bearded face of Martin. He too had prepared well for this day, as soon as he heard that the Templars and Assassin's were going to fight in public, he knew what he needed to do.
It hadn't taken him long to steal from the British Navy. They were careless. He stood on a flat roof of a corner general store, over-viewing the entire market, looking in each direction.
Out from under a cloth, he uncovered three man-'o-war styled cannons, fully prepared to open fire.
Grinning, he knelt down, lit a cigar, and watched as the Templars, disguised as they were, slowly walked closer and closer to the Assassin's boarded up hideout.
He chucked as he let a puff of smoke out into the damp air before waltzing back over the cannons and kicks them forward a little, carefully aiming them.
Slowly, he lit on.
And then a few seconds later, lit another, having two out of three ready to fire.
The trail of fire slowly reached the back iron beast, and there stood Martin, chuckling away, as if he was the victor before the battle even begun.

sshhhhooooOOOOOOBOOMMMM

The whole front of the Assassin's hideout blew open, fire quickly erupted and began to swallow the hideout, body parts and bodies of Assassin's and Templars alike began flying all over the place, screaming and shouting, chaos followed, stamps and stamps of crowds, running and escaping the area, with them, Templars tried to escape, they knew they were compromised...

sshhhhooooOOOOOOBOOMMMM

The second cannon fired, directly onto a crowd of citizens and escaping Templars. Both Assassin's and Templars suffered heavily, fire consuming, guards of red rushing into the market, getting pushed out the way by the panicking citizens.
Today was an important day. An important day for all.
The hunter begun his game.

"OH SHI-" BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!! ((OOC: Kind of like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H91rPIq2mN4 )) Victor half jumped, half flew out of the window, propeled by the building exploding.
"Holy Fuck! That just... Exploded! Holy Shit!!" Victor exclaimed, and he picked himself up, from off the ground, and then the other cannon hit. SSHHOOOOOOOOOOOOBOOOOMMMMMM!!!! Victor Ducked. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" Victor screamed, Glancing at the assassin's hidout, trying to find people still alive. No one he could see was alive. Victor quickly ducked into an alleyway.
"Ach, Mein Gott!!"

Today was a normal day for Alistar Wolfe. He had finished giving An Assassin advanced combat training, and he finally had free time to write, and finally sl-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

'What the....' he thought to himself. Despite being atop a Hill in his Assassin hideout, so he decided to rush outside, before anybody else could register what has just happened.

As Alistar opened the Trap door and looked down, he could see the source of the noise. A great fire, and presumably made by cannon fire, from the noise he had heard earlier. Expecting a fight, he went in and equipped all of his armor, put on his gray robes, and equipped his British sword he stole, along with the hidden blades, and went back outside and started running down the hill the base was located on.

Chuckling, Martin clicked his neck and kicked his last loaded cannon in another direction, spitting out his cigar onto the roof floor, lowering down and grabbing the cannon with both his paws.
Grunting, he lifted the barrel and aimed it up the hill, aiming at Alistar's hideout.
It wouldn't be a direct shot, but it would cause some damage; from where Martin was, it made the target pretty awkward to shoot at. Lighting the fuse, he took his blunderbuss off his back, holding it in one hand. A single white robed figure, covered in blood, ran at him from the rooftop, only to receive a barrel-load of blunderbuss ammo, his corpse falling to the floor.
The shot would've been concealed by the sound of the cannon firing at Alistar's hideout.

sshhhhooooOOOOOOBOOMMMM

As Alistar was thinking of the best possible thing to do, he was interupted by a explosion, loud as life... right behind him. Today, he did something very rare. He yelled.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" By the sound of it, you would've guessed his child died. But no, this was far worse. Trainees were murdered.

As Alistar Wolfe ran into the base, he passed bodies of the dead or dying. The lucky bastard had hit the living quarters, where many training was happening. Was. Now it was a blood bath.
"Who ever did this...." he said angrily "...will pay with his life..."

(I swear Nightmist said this was the most active Roleplay time...yet I waited for more replies, but none came >.<)

Without any more cannons to fire, he kicked one of the cannons brakes off and watched is slowly wheel itself with gravity off the roof and onto a squad of English Loyalists below.
Chuckling away, he made his way over the rooftops, walking slowly, a blunderbuss over his shoulder, being able to shoot any Assassin, Templar or bloody English Loyalist that would get in his way; which so far, none other was stopping him from getting away.