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metamorphosis2010-04-22 04:31 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-04-22 04:31 pm
Entry tags:
78;
Title: Rumours Speak Ill
Characters: Altaïr, Malik, a random group of novices
Rating: G
Set after the game.
“Now, novices, I will tell you a story. A story of magic and wonder… about our dear Malik. Once upon a time, Malik had a left arm—”
“And I would still have it today if it hadn’t been for your past folly.”
Altaïr glances up from his spot on the floor, moving his hood slightly to watch Malik lean against the door. The novices glance at each other and whisper, stopping when Altaïr shushes them and gets up to leave.
“My apologies, novices, but the story must wait for another time. Return to your training, and one day you may be as great an Assassin as I.”
As soon as the novices departed, Malik scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Oh, Allah… Your ego has cost you more than one life.”
“And yet there is no harm in giving them a little boost.”
“Talking about how great you are does not inspire confidence, novice.”
“I am no longer a novice, Malik. It’d be best to remember that.”
“You act it at times. Forgive me, oh esteemed leader.”
The last comment was dry, cornered with a flick of the wrist and a mock bow. Altaïr chuckles and wraps an arm around his right-hand man, leading him away.
“Now, the only reason you would have to interrupt my story is if something is troubling you. What ails you, Malik?”
“There are rumours to the West of another Jihad.”
“I would not be surprised. How is Jerusalem?”
“Under protection of an Assassin loyalty.”
“Very well. What do these rumours speak of?”
“They say there are fewer soldiers this time, compared to the last Jihad with Richard and his army of heretics, and yet still a formidable force, though it appears many have defected at this time of year.”
Altaïr pauses in his steps for a beat, then continues, fitting himself snugly against Malik and thinking; he smirks and chuckles, glancing at his companion from under his peaked hood.
“Then it isn’t a problem for us, is it?”
Characters: Altaïr, Malik, a random group of novices
Rating: G
Set after the game.
“Now, novices, I will tell you a story. A story of magic and wonder… about our dear Malik. Once upon a time, Malik had a left arm—”
“And I would still have it today if it hadn’t been for your past folly.”
Altaïr glances up from his spot on the floor, moving his hood slightly to watch Malik lean against the door. The novices glance at each other and whisper, stopping when Altaïr shushes them and gets up to leave.
“My apologies, novices, but the story must wait for another time. Return to your training, and one day you may be as great an Assassin as I.”
As soon as the novices departed, Malik scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Oh, Allah… Your ego has cost you more than one life.”
“And yet there is no harm in giving them a little boost.”
“Talking about how great you are does not inspire confidence, novice.”
“I am no longer a novice, Malik. It’d be best to remember that.”
“You act it at times. Forgive me, oh esteemed leader.”
The last comment was dry, cornered with a flick of the wrist and a mock bow. Altaïr chuckles and wraps an arm around his right-hand man, leading him away.
“Now, the only reason you would have to interrupt my story is if something is troubling you. What ails you, Malik?”
“There are rumours to the West of another Jihad.”
“I would not be surprised. How is Jerusalem?”
“Under protection of an Assassin loyalty.”
“Very well. What do these rumours speak of?”
“They say there are fewer soldiers this time, compared to the last Jihad with Richard and his army of heretics, and yet still a formidable force, though it appears many have defected at this time of year.”
Altaïr pauses in his steps for a beat, then continues, fitting himself snugly against Malik and thinking; he smirks and chuckles, glancing at his companion from under his peaked hood.
“Then it isn’t a problem for us, is it?”