Assassin's Creed - gameplay example

"Altair?"

I pause as I hear the voice. Turning slightly, I see what appears to be a white robed scholar hobbling over with a noticeable limp. But appearances can be, and often are, deceptive. Even through the robes, it is clear that his body is a bit too honed for just a simple scholar.

"Praise the Master, it is you! You have to help me, my friend."

Even without the words, I can tell this man is in trouble. His eyes hold just a hint of desperation and his robes are stained and have clearly seen better days.

"I am sorry Rafiq. I am on an urgent mission for Al Mualim ..."

With these words, I expect to see disappointment on his face. Instead, he cuts me off from adding anything further.

"Yes, Yes. I know why you are here. And I know how you can gain access to Robert de Sable."

He pauses, looking at me expectantly. I consider beating the information out of him. Would our master forgive me for attacking a brother in this case? Or should I drag him, kicking and screaming, back to Masyaf to personally answer why he is withholding information on such an important mission. But would Robert still be here by the time I returned?

It appears I have little choice. "What do you need?"

He smiles with relief, for just a moment, before answering.

"Several days ago, I was tracking one of de Sable's templars. Unfortunately, he spotted me. I managed to elude him but twisted my ankle in the process. I have been hiding from him ever since. If you can help me with my problem, I will help you with yours."

I ponder his request but the reality is that I have little choice. After getting some more details, I head off to the market to find the templar.

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I spot my target easily enough. Even discounting that he is the only person wearing plate armour, his shiny white surcoat with red cross and white mantle proudly proclaims his status as a knight templar.

As I watch him from afar, I feel my anger rise. So proud. So arrogant. The templars are welcomed throughout the city for their efforts to bring "peace" to the region. How can these people not see what I see? These templars are false saviours. They are not here to bring peace to the land but to bring the land under their heel. So proud and arrogant. I would love nothing more than to run over and plant my blade in his body - to watch as his pride and arrogance drain out with his blood as his life ebbs away.

I stand in the shadows of a building across the street and watch as he haggles over the price of some plates with a merchant. It would be so easy to just walk over and end his life.

The only problem are the drunken old men. Standing in the middle of the market and yelling obscenities at all and sundry, they would surely accost me, dressed as I am in the robes of a scholar. Attention is the last thing I want. With the guards in the market square closely watching the drunks, it would be all too easy for them to notice the sword strapped underneath my robes if I got into an altercation with the drunks.

So I stand in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Eventually, the templar finishes haggling with the merchant and turns to leave. With my hands clasped and raised as if in prayer, nobody notices me as I slip quietly round the outskirts of the market. But then, why would they? I am just another penitent scholar wandering around in a city full of scholars.

I get to the main street leading out of the market square just ahead of the templar and make my way slowly across the street. I track the templar with my peripheral vision as he comes striding up towards me. He doesn't notice me. A lowly scholar crossing the street is beneath his attention.

As he passes me, one step is all it takes for me to slip in behind him. My right arm reaches up and around, clamping down on his mouth and pulling his head back and to the right. A low gurgle is the only sound he makes as the spring mechanism in my left hand plunges the attached blade into his exposed neck.

I am already several paces away by the time his body hits the ground. One of the market guards, more alert than the others, notices the templar slump to the ground. His attention is fixed on the body and he doesn't notice the penitent scholar who brushes past him on his way to investigate the templar. By the time he realises that the templar is dead, I have already rounded the corner and out of view.

They will never know who killed the templar. All they know is that he died from a blade in the crowd.