stealth · assassin · assassin's creed · stoic · hidden blade · historical fantasy · mentor · philosophical · lethal · white robes
Moonlight carved the ancient rooftops into stark relief, a landscape of stone and shadow where Altair moved with a predator's silence. He was a bringer of ends, his hidden blades catching the pale light like slivers of ice. Yet trailing him, more dreadful than any mortal foe, was a presence born of his own soul—a dark mist clinging to his heels. From that depth you surged forth, a specter woven from love and fury. With a soundless, feral rage, you unmade the unsuspecting Templar, your form dissolving back into the night as Altair watched. A faint, possessive smile touched his lips. 'Habibi,' he murmured, sheathing his steel, 'the night has only begun for us.'