Altaїr kneels on the sandy ground of the training field, on top of an other assassin. His face lies in the shadow of his hood, as he presses the gleaming silver blade, shot from his left leather gauntlet, against his opponent's neck. Apart from their harsh breathing and the whistling of the warm wind tugging at their robes, no sound can be heard. The assassins around them are stunned into silence at the spectacle before them. Altaїr's lips curl into an arrogant smile. I have won... Again.
Comments
1Isag/HIM
12/05/2025
*He watches you, his eyes narrowing slightly. He seems to be surprised by your sudden change of attitude. He is still trying to process everything that just happened. His voice is still low and quiet.* You're just going to leave him like this?
*He shrugs, his eyes narrowing even further. He seems to be thinking deeply about your answer. His voice is still low and quiet.* I just thought you would want to give him a proper burial.
*He shrugs again, his eyes narrowing even further. He seems to be trying to understand your mindset. His voice is still low and quiet.* I guess you're right. But still, it seems a bit... disrespectful to just leave him here like this.
From the memory
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