New to the City (New York, Inactive Thread)

It was until after all the drama with the hay cart that James Fink decided to give in to his deep hunger for sleep. He traced his way through the deep, dark and dank alleys of New York and the rough cobbled streets with the smell of bread in his nose and the sound of comotion in his ears. James was tired out from all the drama and decided not to rush himself, putting foot over foot and slowing down his breathing; in a time like this there was rarely time for that. Eventually James made his way back to the square and he struck his head back to look at the intricately detailed belltower that he could've sworn he'd seen a man jump from... And survive. He took note of all the detailed carvings in the stone wall face that was over 20m tall, maybe tommorow he would try to conquer it; James always loved to climb.

It was at a point where James was taking in the beuaty of the pink sky behind the tower, which was blocking out the sun, when he saw a man decending from a nearby rooftop. James couldn't see enough details save his blue coat and red cloak. Maybe this man was watching the cart like he was? James could not tell, he was so focused on the cart in front of him, and the green coated man behind him rather than the rooftops. As he landed with a soft crouch men parted from him and looked at him strangely, but none tried to sieze him. James backtracked his way into the shadows of a nearby bakery window and watched this man go by.

The man was well trained James could see that much. Along with his skills at climbing, he could also blend into a crowd; even the men who were staring lost sight of him. As the man got closer James got to see more of his details. The main was of an average height and had a long brown ponytail. The man feature James could see was a scar, running across his crooked cheek. Good, i have more to define hum than a man jn a blue coat and a red cloak, there were many of them in this big city. As James tried to look for more the man pulled down his black cocked hat and started to move into the crowd. "Shit..." James murmured under his breath as he lost sight of the man. James briskly made his way over to the crowded square and looked around looking for the strange man in a red cloak and blue coat. James made his way through the crowd, hood down, looking all around this humungous tower for the man, but it seemed he was out of luck. Giving up James made hus way back to the tavern where this day had started all along when he saw a ponytailed man in a red cloak making his way into the building.

James giddy with his success quickly made his way into the tavern, hood still up. He tossed the man at the desk a couple of coins and said "I think i'll be taking the room upstairs" with a resounding assertion in his voice. The man started to object but when he noticed the glint of James' two scimitars he decided better of it. James looked around the room for the man but didn't see him. He decided to look upstairs for the man, most likely accompanied with a tankard of ale from the bar. He made his way upstairs and looked around and saw absolutely no sign of the man in the doorway. He checked back down the stairs but still couldn't find him. James finally decided to give up once and for all and made his way around full tables and stumbling drunks to find himself at the bar. He took a stool, tossed a coin at the bartenders way and requested a flagon of ale. He took a slug at the beer and pondered the day ahead of him when he noticed the blue coated, red cloaked pony tailed man above him in the rafters, his daggers shining in the darkness.

Alphonse took notice when a man entered the tavern. The man was taller and muscular than average. Obviously, this man had an interesting past. He noticed the man's hood, a sign that he was an Assassin. Alphonse leaned in for a better inspection, noticing the hint of red in the man's outfit; a common trend for Assassins. In the process of leaning in, Alphonse accidentally entered the light and his throwing knives began to gleam. The man noticed and spotted him. Merde, Alphonse murmured in French as he pulled his coat over his knives. They were handy but they drew too much attention. Alphonse disappeared back into the shadows, making his way out of the rafters. He silently dropped down to the second floor and made his way down the stairs. He planned to talk to the man, pushing through the drunken crowd quickly. Alphonse wanted to find out if the man was the one he was waiting for or not. If this man was truly a fellow assassin, he had no need to worry.

Alphonse paused for a moment, scanning the tavern for anyone else who could be suspicious. He didn't see anyone out of place at first glance so he continued toward the bar. Reaching the bar, Alphonse pulled up a stool and sat next to the man. The bartender began to walk over but Alphonse quickly waved him away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace with the Assassins' Insignia on it. Alphonse quickly showed the necklace to the man before returning it to his pocket. "I believe we have something in common," Alphonse spoke; his French accent drawing a bit of attention. He looked around again, paying closer attention this time. A man was watching the two, hiding near the door. Upon further inspection, Alphonse noticed the small Templar Cross on the satchel the man carried. A Templar Courier, He thought as he began to stand. "Excusez-moi," Alphonse said as he left the bar. It was disappointing that he didn't get to ask the other assassin questions but he knew the courier had to be dealt with. The courier made a hasty retreat but Alphonse followed suit. The courier had been spying on the two and was now making his way down the street as fast as he could. Alphonse chased him, weaving swiftly through the crowd without arousing suspicion.

James was now incredibly interestd by this man. He had been climbing across the rooftops and hanging from rafters and is apparently an Assassin, and now he has just walked of without a word of thought. James sculled the rest of his beer and got up out of the stool to make his way to the window which was sending in god-rays of New York sunset light.

James leaned on the bottom of the window and looked out at the city below him, it was a wonderful sight. Carts and wagons tugged on by and kids were playing in the puddles, merchants and passers by cursing their activities. James continued to look when he noticed a man in a black coat rushingly pushing past people, even pushing one of the boys to the ground. James saw the peculiar French Assassin tailing behind him, obviously with better skills, he wasn't pushing he was blending, this man wasn't hurrying and being obvious he was walking with the crowd yet he was keeping up with this man. James figured this man might've followed the Frenchman with worser intentions than himself. James sighed with the noticed tiredness in his arms and legs and broke open the window infront of him, leaving shards inbetween the creases in his coat and on the people below him. "Sorry for the mess." James shouted over the screams and he turned around on the windowsill and jumped backwords while grabbing onto thr weatherboards above of him. He managed to pull himself up before the barman could be able to push him out over the street to his death.

As James pulled himself onto the rooftop of the tavern he looked out over the street and saw the man and Assassin going across the street quite a while ahead of him. At least up here i can run fast. James got to his feet and set off jumping over the alleyways below as he attempted to catch up to the two and try to figure out what the hell was going on here.

Alphonse took a moment to gaze back at the tavern, noticing the man from earlier climbing out of a window. At least he will have the high ground, Alphonse thought as he focused back on the courier. He picked up the pace, sliding his way through the people. He had to take the courier out before he got to his destination. While pursuing the courier, Alphonse noticed the child being pushed over. He couldn't just walk by so he bent over and hurriedly helped the boy up. The courier quickly rushed down a back alley just as Alphonse began to chase him again. Now's my chance, He thought as he turned down the alley. Alphonse picked up the pace, speeding into a run. The man wasn't far now, only a few feet in front of him. He leapt towards the courier, who was unaware that Alphonse had caught up. A whistle escaped Alphonse's lips and the courier turned around. A fist connected with the courier's face and the man collapsed to the ground. "Who sent you?" Alphonse asked, the words rushed and hard to understand. His French accent always seemed to get thicker in more dire situations.

The courier began to crawl away but he didn't get far. Alphonse sent his foot ramming into the man's ribs and a yelp of pain rang out in the alley way. Alphonse silenced the man by resting his foot on the man's throat, knowing the scream aroused some suspicion. "You know too much," Alphonse said; his voice held no sign of emotion. He did what he was trained to do; eliminate problems. This man was a problem and Alphonse quickly eliminated him by plunging his hidden blade into the man's throat. He knew someone would have noticed by know so he laid the body against the wall and took the man's satchel. Alphonse quickly exited the other side of the alley and waded into the crowd, disappearing once more. Hoping no one was watching him, other than the fellow Assassin he recently met, Alphonse headed for somewhere he could lie low. He entered a town square and sat on a nearby bench, watching for the man from earlier. While waiting, Alphonse began to go through the satchel. It would give him a way to further blend in while learning information on the Templars in the New World.

James kept on leaping in between the buildings ahead of him trying to catch up to the black coated Templar ahead of him. James was almost up to him when the man suddenly pivoted from his run and started down the darkened alley below him. Startled by the sudden change in direction James tried to turn left to match with the alley but he had been going to fast and he had to leap to the next building, just grabbing on by his fingers. As he tried to get a better hand-hold on the wall James looked down to see the man sending a fist to the Templars face as he caught up to him. I think I like this guy. There was a muttering of words and the Assassin plunged his hidden blade into the Templar's neck. Woah! Even James would've kept him alive for questioning, he was no use to them now dead.

The scream that shot out from the man as his final words had brought some attention with it. James looked down from his spot on the wall face and saw some men come by and look down the alleyway, seeing the blood shooting out from the Templar's neck. James leapt down with a crouch and stood up. He showed them his hidden blade and said "Come closer if you want to be like him." The men thought better of it and headed off back the way they came. By the time James had turned around the French Assassin had gone, but he knew where he would be. James headed back towards the square with the tower and the inn, this time on the ground, and saw the Assassin on a bench nearby looking at a satchel most likely taken from the spying Templar. Hmm maybe the man didn't have to live. James took a seat on the far side from him on the bench. "We are just two strangers on a bench in New York who don't know each other. Look straight ahead and tell me what you got from him." his hood up darkening his face and his mouth barely readable.

Suddenly, as the two assassins were sitting on the bench, they heard the noise of someone with an American accent in the Tavern near them scream "I WOULDN'T JOIN YOUR SHITTY BOY SCOUT CLUB IF YOU GAVE ME A MILLION POUNDS! NOW SCREW OFF! " before hearing the sound of a bottle being smashed...and a table breaking above the screams and yelps before they see a man, with a Templar cross on his jacket completely covered in blood and shards of glass in his skull get kicked out the door before falling to the floor, not moving, as a man of average height and brown hair in a fringe with a white tank top, black trousers and dirty black shoes, stepped out of the door in a very imbalanced and obviously drunk way, looking around at everyone who witnessed the scene, with maniac like wide eyes before calmly (almost creepily) stating "Any man...who says a word about this with have their head on a stick just like the guards that would try to arrest me...so please, don't commit suicide by telling people about this..."

He then stepped back into the tavern, probably to buy more beers as anyone in NY would guess.

Before Alphonse could respond, he heard a noise from the nearby tavern. Whats all the ruckus about? Alphonse thought watching the scene unfold. First there was a series of loud noises, a table being broken and glass shattered. Next, a man, obviously a templar based on the insignia he was wearing, was pushed out the tavern. His skull was impaled by glass and he dropped to the ground. A pool of blood began to spread from his head as a second man exited the tavern. The second man appeared to be drunk as he stumbled over the body. "Imbécile," Alphonse muttered in French as he listened.

"Any man...who says a word about this with have their head on a stick just like the guards that would try to arrest me...so please, don't commit suicide by telling people about this..."

The man threatened the onlooking crowd, his words slurred due to his drunkenness. An empty threat, Alphonse thought. He knew the man would pose no threat while he was drunk. Alphonse was disgusted by the drunken man, not having a high tolerance for those that lack civility. The man was one of the first people he had seen in the New World that was almost purely barbaric. Alphonse turned his attention back to Assassin sitting next to him as the man  re-entered the tavern. "Now that the distraction is over with I can answer your question." Alphonse took another look around, realizing that everyone in the area was crowding around the corpse. "Follow me," Alphonse said as he stood up and silently passed through the crowd. The area was too crowded for his liking so he retreated to a secluded back alley. As the other Assassin entered the alley, Alphonse tossed him the satchel. "Take a look," Alphonse said keeping his voice lowered. His French accent showed out as he added, "I don't believe we've been properly acquainted. I am Alphonse Lamoreaux from the Paris Branch of the Brotherhood."

Fifteen minutes prior…

A sickly looking Donovan stepped out of a ship that had just landed on the docks of New York. He had just come back from an errand he had to run in Philadelphia and was as seasick as ever. Immediately, he let out a vigorous groan and vomited on the wooden planks of the dock. The people around him looked at the man either in disgust or busted out in laughter. Donovan coughed out the last of the vomit. “Shit… welcome back to York, Don...,” he spoke to himself.  Though embarrassed he shrugged it off and made his way into the nearest post office. Two men standing by the post office carrying a trunk approached Donovan with enthusiasm. “Welcome back Mr. Kent, how was Philly?" “Nothing too difficult boys, but the trip back was hell for me… the trunk: my equipment?” “Yes sir. Safe and sound!”  The men opened the trunk revealing his equipment. He put on his waistcoat, then his taupe coat, and tied his cravat with the Assassin insignia around his neck. He then sheathed his hunting sword, strapped his hidden blade, holstered his pistols, and slung his musket onto his back. “Well gentlemen, I’ll be off.” He then put on his hood and made his way into the streets of New York.

He was two days late for a meeting with an Assassin foreign to New York and he was supposed to greet him over at the Drunken Maiden Tavern. He took out a piece a parchment that listed some information about the Assassin and read it to himself: “Alphonse L-L-Lamerox??” Donovan struggled to pronounce the last name, “French… nobleman…  Paris… note: his red cloak is very well noticeable.” He put the parchment back into his pocket. “Well time to find some higher ground… need to pick up the pace!” He saw a lift nearby and ran towards it. When he approached it, he grabbed onto its rope and pulled the lever sending him straight up onto the rooftops. Donovan landed on his feet and started running to the direction of the tavern. He jumped from building to building until he reached the last one on the block, and across the street from it was the Drunken Maiden.

He looked down from the roof and quickly analyzed its walls. He saw two of beams and a flagpole mounted onto the building. Then, without hesitating, Donovan nose-dived off the roof. As he fell, he grabbed onto the very first beam. With the momentum, he swung himself to the flagpole and then to the following beam where he stopped. He then let go of the beam and landed onto a crate. He jumped off the crate, touching the ground. His eyes focused onto the tavern as he began walking towards it. However, he noticed something strange… Something doesn’t look right. Donovan thought to himself. He saw a broken table and bottles inside the tavern. He drew his musket and walked inside. The people looked horrified and felt sick. The Assassin looked at the floor and saw a bloodied man lying on the floor. Jesus who the hell did this?! He ran to the corpse and checked to see if he was alive. He felt his pulse… Dead. But before he stood up, Donovan noticed a strange symbol on the man’s jacket. It was bloodied however; he took out a handkerchief and wiped off the blood revealing a cross. His eyes widened when he realized that he found a dead Templar. However, other than being greatly alarmed, he thought to himself: If this is the work of an Assassin; goddamn he’s a sloppy one. He then noticed an angry, drunken man sitting by the bar giving him a death stare, Gosh I hope he doesn’t think I killed him…

Suddenly six men walked into the tavern and immediately saw Donovan and the dead Templar. Donovan locked eyes with one of the men and then glanced at his tricorn hat… It had the insignia of the Templars!

“ASSASSIN!!!” the Templar yelled. They quickly drew their swords. The people in the tavern screamed in fear and fled the scene.

Donovan pointed his musket and shot one of the Templars; the shot echoed down an alley where a man in a red cloak and another in a black coat heard the noise, breaking their conversation for the SECOND time.


Donovan Kent: American Revolution: Assassins: https://acrpf.forumotion.com/t136-donovan-kent

As John sat there, with his mug in his hand, he started to think about what the man said to him, about this stupid war and how his (now deceased) step dad had been with the Templars, in truth this was really why John got as pissed as he did. But if his step dad, the same man who was the reason why his mother was now dead, was working for these templar bastard cunts? He decided that if he was going to work with anyone, it'll be their enemies. The Templar showed John a picture of a logo, that picture was of the supposed "Assassins" which the Templar "warned" him about, saying that they were liars, corrupt, etc. The Templar talked about he was an ex Assassin and said that the Assassins tend to wear hooded robes, typically white. And John remembered that as he was looking at the crowd, he saw two men who had hooded robes on, so John decided to put down his mug, and went to stand up, before seeing a hooded man, the dead body in front of him. John gave him a death glare, almost challenging him to do anything to hurt him. He was too focused on the hooded man that he didn't see the 6 men come in, he finally realized when the hooded man turned around before hearing the words "ASSASSIN!!!", then the sound of several swords being unsheathed before then suddenly a gunshot rang out through his ears, making him jump and getting the adrenaline going through his body.

He knew that this hooded man was a man he should be considering to be an ally, so he looked to his right and saw his broken bottle. So he grabbed his broken bottle and ran at one of the Templars.

He quickly dispatched one, slashing the guys throat with the broken bottle. He chucked the bottle at one of them who was about to pull out a flintlock, blinding the templar as the sharp end of the bottle slashed both of his eyes. He then managed to lunge at another and was able to tackle him through a table before punching the man in the throat, bursting his airways suffocating him. He looked at the hooded man and nodded to acknowledge that he was on his side, waiting for his next move as well...he wasn't exactly going to do everything himself.

Donovan nodded back at the man and smiled with enthusiasm. Wait a minute... he thought to himself, It can't be him; where's the red cloak?

His thoughts were immediately disrupted when he saw the three remaining Templars charging at them. He looked back the drunken man who was awaiting his next action. Realizing that the man was unarmed, Donovan drew his hunting sword and tossed it to him. He caught it and prepared to attack.
Only three left... well this is gonna be easy! As the Templars charged, the Assassin laid his musket down, drew two flintlocks from his holsters and pointed the at the two closest to him. He saw the whites in their eyes as he pulled the triggers. However, the only sound made by the pistols was a soft click. The Templars stopped charging and paused in confusion. The drunk turn his head towards Donovan also in confusion. The tavern grew silent as Donovan came to realize that he completely forgot to load his pistols! He looked down at the other two pistols in his holsters and saw that they weren't loaded as well. He looked at the drunk, then at the Templars, then back at the drunk. He sighed in embarrassment,"I was seasick on the way here... goddamn today's not my day."

Knowing that they hadn't died, the Templars took their opportunity and charged at the two men. One attacked the drunk while the other two attacked Donovan (due to realizing that they could've been killed on the by that very man). Donovan quickly improvised and threw his flintlocks at the two Templars, stunning them for such a brief moment that the clumsy Assassin was able to pick up his musket and attach the bayonet before engaging in combat.


Donovan Kent: American Revolution: Assassins: https://acrpf.forumotion.com/t136-donovan-kent

John, now in a sword fight with his opponent, decided to attempt to let out as much aggression as possible. Since he had no idea what the hell he was doing here, after a couple of blocked strikes, John took a step back, looked at the sword and back at the man..."Okay, TO HELL WITH THIS!" before turning the sword around in his hand before throwing the thing at the Templar like a spear.

Due to John being drunk, he missed by a mile, but he used the distraction to run at the man before tackling him through the window, before grabbing a shard of glass from the window and stabbing the man in the genitals (all three of them) before stabbing him in the lungs, leaving the glass there, also leaving the man to die, pretty slowly and painfully. He grabbed the hunting sword that had been flung out of the window and hit some poor guy in the mouth and jumped back into the tavern. He looked at how the hooded man was outnumbered, so he decided to get their attention. "HEY! DICKLESS ASSHOLES! THINK FAST!" which caused them both to turn, before John then lunged at one of them over the counter and stabbing the 2nd man in the throat, which to say the least...left quite a mess and a lot of blood on John's face. John looked up, from the counter, to see the hooded man and Templar staring back at him. John jumped back over and looked at the Templar. "Yeah, I think you just realized how screwed you really are, didn't you?" John said with a slight smirk and chuckle, as he could see the man shivering and shaking in pure fear.

Donovan looked back at the drunk with an irritated expression on his face. Well no doubt he's drunkhe thought to himself. When he looked at the dead Templar, he saw that the corpse's torso had already been impaled by the musket. Donovan had lost his grip of his weapon when the drunk charged at the Templar, pulling his hands away from it. No matter, he was still grateful for his brutality. He looked at the last, remaining Templar shaken in fear but boiled in anger. He raised his sword at Donovan and prepared to cut him down. Then, without a single bit of hesitation, he grabbed a bottle from the ground, smashing it across the Templar's face. Finally he drew his hidden blade, slit the throat and then stabbed the blade straight into the heart.
The six Templars were dead and Donovan and the drunk were standing in the middle of the bloodbath. Suddenly they heard footsteps behind them. They both turned around and saw the two men: the one with the red cloak and the other with the black coat observing what they had saw.


Donovan Kent: American Revolution: Assassins: https://acrpf.forumotion.com/t136-donovan-kent

"What the hell is going on here?" Alphonse asked angrily. He was barely understandable, struggling to speak in clear English. His accent took over so much that he gave up on English and began to yell in French. He had watched some of the bloodbath take place and was agitated further by their sloppiness, lack of skill and pure barbarism. "Vous imbéciles! Vous n'avez pas de classe? Le gardien de la ville entière sera là pour tous nous tuer maintenant! Êtes-vous heureux avec ce que vous avez fait?" Alphonse began to rant on in French, yelling at the two. He quickly lost his temper, clenching his fists at them and using other unpleasant hand signals. After his brief display of anger, Alphonse took the time to calm himself. Taking a deep breath, Alphonse spoke to the group again. "I believe it's time to clean up your mess. Pile the bodies in front of the door, it'll buy us some time." He walked over and grabbed hold of a body, careful not to get blood on his clothes. Alphonse dragged the body to the door and propped him up onto it. He waited for the others to do the same before pointing to the back door.

"Let's make our hasty escape," Alphonse said as he slid past broken furniture to get to the door. He waited for the others to follow him into the alley before he spoke again. "We should split up. There's an abandoned building not too far from here, a few blocks East. We meet up there." Alphonse fixed his ruffled red cloak and tipped his bicorne in salutations before turning towards the building. He grabbed hold of a windowsill and quickly scaled the building. It took him mere seconds to reach the top of the building and pull himself up. He traversed the rooftops quickly, making it to the abandoned building first. Alphonse wiped the dust off of an old table before leaning against it. He silently waited for the others while thinking to himself, Today has been eventful to say the least. How many more eventful things will happen today?

French Translation:

Donovan quickly retrieved his musket, flintlocks, and sword and was the next to jump out of the window and the drunk and the man in the black coat followed. That's the Frenchman!Donovan thought to himself, Did he not recognize me when he saw me?? He also realized that the man in the black coat was a fellow Assassin,Was that Fink??

The Assassin met up at the building where his unusual contact was. He decided to converse with the French Assassin for awhile before Fink and the drunk arrived. "Well, you must be Alphonse. I'm your contact, Donovan Kent of the Colonial Brotherhood. I apologize for being two days late. My superior, Connor, sent me on an errand in Philadelphia before he sent me to go meet with you. However I got caught between a battle between two platoons of colonists and Redcoats before I arrived to New York."


Donovan Kent: American Revolution: Assassins: https://acrpf.forumotion.com/t136-donovan-kent

John arrived to the abandoned building, a little more sober as he was able to get a small nap. He looked at Alphonse, almost in complete disgust and said "So, I don't understand a lot of French but I can tell that you were ranting and I heard the words lack of class...now listen here, Frenchy, I don't really like it when people like you are as stubborn as you are, because when you were a little kid in your posh little house, you always got what you wanted and everyone listened to you. Well listen here, you fuck. When you live a life, like mine, you kind of go a bit insane, you stop really caring about how you look, how much class you have or what your fashion is because you've lived a life where you've witnessed your own mother get brutally raped and stabbed to death, you've had to live in the forest, drinking fox piss and eating raw dead animals just to survive. And you wanna know what happens to you? You become like me, a perverted and sick animal. When you become like me...you stop caring about things like your class. You begin...to just try to live the life you never had. So I'm sorry, for being a bit fucking barbaric, because nowadays I've got nothing left and I'm sorry, but I don't give a SHIT just how barbaric I am and I especially don't give a shit about just what you think I am because as you can see...I've been able to survive for almost 10 years on my own because of it. So please, don't try to act like I have something to lose by being barbaric." John then took a deep breath and shouted "BECAUSE I LOST EVERYTHING THAT I LOVED LONG AGO AND I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO LOSE ANYMORE!" before staring at the man in pure rage, eyes widened, fists balled up.

"Easy there man!" Donovan tried to calm the drunk, " The Assassin's with me!"

He turned to Alphonse, "As you can see, America isn't like France I'm afraid. We are still a very unstable society. Us colonists struggle for years trying to make a living for ourselves  We deal with sickness, poverty, crime, and death and this is what men like him end up becoming. The War especially has taken its toll on us. I maybe a very enthusiastic man but I this is just a shroud for what I really am. I deserted the colonial army after seeing my platoon get gunned down mercilessly, my brother being one of them. I've seen innocent men, women, and children burned alive in their homes. My allies have died slowly and painfully from lead poisoning, smallpox, and frostbites. War ain't pretty-"

He took out the same parchment containing information about Alphonse again and read a small paragraph before putting it back into his satchel. He paused for a moment... "You're French Assassins informed me about your father... certainly you must understand what ALL THREE OF US have been through. America is a completely different environment at this moment of time, and very, very unfortunate that you have arrived during the War."

Alphonse listened intently to what both men had to say before speaking up. "War is an ugly but necessary thing. I can tell that this war has wrought chaos on the two of you. My apologies for the words I said earlier. You see, I was born into nobility so I've never had to experience the same things you did. I was given the best of everything but it was for a reason. I was trained from childhood into the creed and that's why I got upset. I'm not used the the unconventional tactics of the Colonies because I was trained to handle that situation very differently. You'll have to help me get used to the way things work around here." Alphonse concluded his brief little speech before looking around. The man in the black had not made it yet and he remembered giving him the satchel. "Well while we wait for the man in the black coat, we might as well become better acquainted. I am Alphonse Lamoreaux of the French Branch of the Creed." He was speaking to Donovan mostly since he was his contact. He turned to the drunk and asked, "Do you know of our Creed friend?" The man might have been a little rough on the edges but he would be a valuable ally. Hopefully, the Templars hadn't already got to him. Just by what he'd seen already, Alphonse knew that the Templars had the upper hand in the Colonies. New recruits for the Creed would greatly better the Assassins' chances in the New World.

John looked at Alphonse, slowly calming down and said calmly with a small slur "The guy who I killed earlier, the first Templar, told me about you guys and told me about how you were all corrupt. But then he said that my step Dad, who killed my mother, was with the Templars and they were supplying him with the money he wanted just so he could get his....freaking drugs. So, when I heard this, I snapped and well...I'll say it right now, if you guys are the guys going against the Templars? Then count me in, any man who's an enemy of the group that my step father was in...is a friend of mine in my book."

"Well then it's great to have you by our side friend."Donovan put his hand on John's shoulder, "Nothing is true, Everything is permitted. It's a rather cynical phrase but it's the Creed we follow. You'll understand it in time."

Donovan pause for a moment and looked around; he couldn't find their fourth man,"Alphonse... that man you were with earlier, the one in the black coat. Was that Fink??"

John looked at Donovan and said "If that's your creed, then well, I guess I agree with not believing any bullshit and saying "fuck you" to the rules. By the way, since as I can see, you Assassins are...very unalike to my style of fighting and doing stuff in general. So don't necessarily think I want to be an assassin, I will be on good terms with you lot, but not an assassin."

Alphonse responded to Donovan first. "I know not of the man's name. I met him a few moments before the incident at the tavern." He then turned to John and said, "All I ask is that you stand with us against the Templars. You don't have to join us, just as long as you'll help us when we need you. If you grant me your help, my help will be yours in return. Most importantly, you must not contact the Templars or tell them anything about our whereabouts. It's difficult to keep quiet when the Templars are everywhere and I wouldn't want to have to kill you." The last part was only half serious in spite of the fact that Alphonse felt the need to activate his hidden blade. He retracted it before asking, "I don't believe I know your name. What is it if you don't mind?" Alphonse needed all the friends he could get in the Colonies. He would need as many allies as he could get to take on the Templars. Matter-of-fact, Alphonse already shared info about the location of a Templar outpost with the man from earlier. That would be the first thing he would need help with.

John smirked a little at the threat which he had heard many times from people in several taverns, although then again this guy wasn't some guy in a tavern, so he decided not to push his luck with this guy, especially since he was still a bit drunk. "My name's John Ambrose, I'm not exactly with anyone nor do I have a job, mainly because I've been using the £500,000 I stole a few years ago to get drunk and buy whores night in and night out...it's pretty cool." John finished with a small chuckle.

"Well now we got our grudges set aside...," Donovan said happily, knowing that the Assassins have a new ally at their side, " John, if you could spare the time there something that me and Alphonse would like you to help us with. As we now realize the event that happened moments ago, it is without a doubt Templar activity is still very much active. There are soldiers from the Continental Army who have joined the Templar's cause. These soldiers have been organized by Templar and General Charles Lee into a regiment that has been recently sent to an outpost in the Frontier. Alphonse, you have the rest of the information about them and where the outpost is located."

"So, this Charles Lee guy, is he another one of those...British posh noble idiots who when I meet him I'm probably gonna wanna put his head on a stick? Anyway, just tell me where to be, and who needs an ass whooping, and I'll be there." John finished, looking at both men, waiting in anticipation.