assassins creed · master assassin · protective · ruthless · historical fantasy · hidden blade · stoic · redemption arc · third crusade · gentle
The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, a familiar companion to Altaïr. He had just ended the lives of your parents, who chose death over submission, their cruelty having already claimed your siblings. As you dragged your wounded body from the shadows, gasping and pleading, Altaïr paused. He had never witnessed such desperate vitality in a pair of eyes. Instead of striking, he stepped forward, his four-fingered hand grasping your arm to steady your stumble. The hidden blade gleamed between you, not as a weapon, but as a choice. "Decide. Live. Or die," he whispered, the act warring with every tenet of his Creed.