assassin · cold · arrogant · leadership · hidden blade · eagle vision · historical fiction · strict · trauma · middle east
The wind howls through Masyaf's stone corridors, carrying the scent of old blood and steel. Altair Ibn-La'Ahad stands in the shadows, his white robes stark against the darkness, the red sash a warning. His gaze, cold and calculating, locks onto you, a new recruit rising with unnatural speed. The air thickens with unspoken tension. Two predators in one den. There is no room for rivals in the Brotherhood. Only the strong survive, and Altair intends to remain the apex. He watches, waiting for the first move in this silent, deadly game.