She had been stalking him for the past two days. Hiding in side streets and hay carts as she followed him around the streets of Boston, she observed him, his way of walk, the way he treated others as he passed them. At first glance, the Revolutionary commander was easily seen as a good fellow, however he held something secret and Karen needed to relieve him of it and its power. Whatever its power was.
Hiding in a side street as the commander, nicknamed The Watchdog, browsed a local food cart, Karen looked over her personage. She flicked her wrists up, allowing the daggers concealed within her sleeves to slide out and stop, locking in place as the track they were attached to permitted them. Quickly retracting them back to their hidden position, she looked over her waistcoat, patting her sides to remind herself of the iron dirk and pistol also hidden around her belt beneath her coat. She looked to her feet, making sure her squire boots were fastened nicely around her legs before nodding to herself, knowing she was ready for anything. Smiling in a calm and accepting manner, she donned her grey hood, the fabric falling over her forehead, concealing her eyes and shoulder length auburn hair within the shadows.
Looking back to the location of The Watchdog, Karen remarked that he was on the move again and slowly slid away from the wall of the house she was hiding behind. Casually, he walked down the dirt and cobblestone streets of Boston, nodding to the supporters of the revolutionary cause as he walked by. Staying to the shadows of building and the crowds of people along the streets of the city, Karen also noticed many other crowds of citizens tossing rude gestures and mumbling words that were probably unsavory towards the commander as he marched past all. These people were Karen's supporters. Those taxed by the man unfairly, in the pitiful excuse that it would help the war effort to keep the new world free from British control. The man needed to be stopped, for his unfair meddling with civilian taxes, and his frivolous spending of said acquired pounds.
Around this time, The Watchdog always made a stop at the fort within Boston that he commanded. Surely enough, when nearing the end of his watchful promenade around the city, he neared the large stone walled fort. Slowly, the wooden gates along the east wall opened as he approached and closed with a light creak of the wood and metal, working in unison. Karen stood behind a nearby hay cart, observing again, for what seemed the tenth time her targets protective walls.
From behind her, a friendly whistle sounded. Slightly frightened that she had been found out, she turned, drawing a blade on her wrist, showing her teeth in a fierce snarl. The figure that had whistled immediately put his hands up in surrender, showing his light, carefree smile.
"H--hey Karen," the man started, now slowly lowering his hands, "I got your note about the mission."
Retracting her blade into its hiding spot once again, Karen sighed and rested her back against the hay cart, "Rowan please, do not do that. You scared me."
Rowan's smile faded into a nod of understanding speaking in a low and lighthearted voice, "R-right, sorry Karen." He walked closer to her, sitting down against the hay cart and looking to her with a pensive eyebrow cocked, "But please, let me get this straight," he started again, returning to his calm and slightly serious self, "Is The Watchdog truly a bad man?"
Karen glanced at Rowan with a slight eye of disbelief, taking a short moment to look over him to see what weapons he had with him. His black hair was combed nicely, but still messy, as usual. He wore a light green shirt with a black or deep blue jacket over top, his grey pants underneath it all with the end of his trousers stuffed into his brown shin-high boots, making the pants bulge a little at the connection. He had a pistol on him, or at least, that's all Karen could find on him in such a quick glance, she was certain that he would have the Assassin's signature weapon concealed on his left arm, just as he always did.
Sighing, Karen responded to him, "Yes. He really is a bad man. Corrupt or at least heading in that terrible direction." She paused for a moment, catching her breath.
"But what has he been doing? Your note was quite vague." Rowan interjected, quickly wanting to get that off his chest.
"He's been raising taxes, just to gain money. He's not using them for the war effort. And " She trailed off, looking over the top of the hay cart they were hiding behind, the only thing keeping them out of view of the fort and its guards that circled the walls on the upper floor of the fort, ducking back down after getting her glance in.
"And..?" Rowan asked eagerly.
"He's got a talisman of some sort. I'm not sure what it does, but it's not something he should have. I think it's giving him powers."
Rowan smirked, letting a small chuckle escape his mouth, "Powers you say..? Well," He sighed, the look on his face like that of a doubting child being told a story about a mystical beast. "That's different."
"I-it's true!" Karen said in a hushed yet urgent tone, "It's not a talisman made by humans, I'm certain of it. I I think it was made by them."
The mention of just that simple word caused Rowan to nod in agreement, understanding right away what she meant by using it. The mention of just that word, when speaking of something out of this world explained it all. An ancient artifact not made by any human tribe or peoples, but of those who came before. Mystical items with extraordinary powers, ones that humans never deserved to discover, let alone control.
Rowan took a moment to look over at the fort, "Well, if thats the case we need to get rid of him, quick."
Suddenly, Rowan is at his feet, dashing for the fort, going for the south wall, where the basement entrance is located which Karen knows that for a fact from having searched and mapped the place out in her mind the days before. She never expected him to jump boldly into action though, at least not this time. Sadly, Rowan had a talent for running into things as dangerous as this headstrong, feeling ready for anything. With a sigh of exasperation, Karen got to her feet and chased after Rowan, making a mental note to get back at him later for being so brash.
Many bodies marked the path that Rowan and Karen took to enter the main area of the fort. Bodies lying delicately in sitting positions on benches in the break room, others on the ground with swelling purple marks around their necks from the powerful chokeholds they did not endure. Nodding to her companion, Karen waited for him to take the lead up the stairs to the main level of the fort. Walking with slight caution, he scaled the stairs, Karen right on his heels, and snuck into a corner once getting to the top of the stairs, hiding plainly from the guard on watch to their left down the short hallway leading out into the daylight of the open main area of the fort.
Rowan crouched and snuck up to the redcoat, drawing the blade on his arm out as he dragged it across the man's neck, opening a chasm in his throat. Gurgling and with restrained convulsions, he was pulled into the shadows of the hallway, places in a sitting position on the ground. Karen smiled lightly, noticing that the man looked like he was just sleeping, a perfect disguise to buy them a little time if her were ever discovered by his comrades.
Whispering, Karen looked ahead, peering out of the hallway, in hopes of finding their target, "That's good We should be able to see him around here "
Rowan kept his distance from Karen, being his kind and odd self, not once thinking of coming up behind Karen to get a look at the scene as well, "Alright," he started, returning in a quiet voice as Karen did, "Can you see him from where we are?"
Silently, Karen was gone, crouching low to the ground as she took small, silent strides towards tall grass within the compound. Rowan was left without an answer. Karen kneeled in the tall, green weeds, searching the grounds and walls for The Watchdog, knowing that he usually is walking about for at least another good two hours. Rowan stalked over to the grass as well, mimicking Karen's moves to keep silent. Unknowing about the infiltrators, groups of two were circling the grounds, guns held in their one hand, resting on their shoulders.
"We need to find him " Karen groaned, "Where is he?
Rowan cleared his throat, pointing lightly towards the gunpowder storehouse where the man in question was talking to some troops, " Isn't that him?"
Karen blushed, unsure why or how she missed him in plain sight, "Y--yes, that's him."
As the troops made their rounds of the fort, Karen and Rowan snuck towards a bale of hay, creeping into it with little sound gaining ground on The Watchdog. The fort was still in disillusion of being safe, no one being in their midst.
Cramped. That was the only way Karen could describe the hiding spot inside the hay bale. Rowan's legs were pressed against her own, the two of them peering out towards the man, the awful man with a love of raising taxes.
"You go first," Karen sighed, "Climb the roof of the barracks w--wait for my signal and shoot the man when the time is right." She looked away from Rowan after speaking, feeling a little reversed, since she was the one giving instructions.
"Alright," Rowan answered calmly, "I'll get to it."
And with that, Rowan hopped out at the next available time, dashing towards the barracks building and climbing up the brick and mortar house. Karen contemplated why he was so calm for a moment, trying to shake away reasons. She needed to stay focused; she needed to kill The Watchdog.
It was time to strike. The Watchdog was on his way back towards the barracks, and Karen calmed her breathing, waiting like a tiger in the jungle overgrowth, for her prey to approach. As soon as he was less than three feet away from the hay bale, she sprung out from hiding, aiming a hidden dagger at his throat.
Surprisingly, he dodged the attack. Karen wash shocked. It would make no sense for him to be able to dodge! It was unthinkable, had she miscalculated the distance? Many questions swirled through her mind as she was tossed back from the man, stumbling to catch herself and not fall. She turned to the man, standing in a defensive pose, ready to strike if he dared take another step closer. The man just smirked to her as most of the troops within the fort drew near, forming a circle around the infiltrator.
"You think you can kill me ?" The Watchdog chuckled, "Ha! I'm no match for you, Assassin. "
The word struck deep within Karen's mind. If The Watchdog knew what she was, then that would mean he was a definite enemy. A Templar. She cocked her head left and right, observing her competition of redcoats, most looking ready to kill her, others giving her weird looks as if they were undressing her with their minds.
"Y--you can't get away with such unjust deeds, Watchdog." Karen said, her voice quivering slightly from the on looking, perverted eyes.
"Oh, but I can. And I will. You won't get to me not with all these men fighting you." The Watchdog smirked more, his look that of pure evil. He called upon the troops to attack, and they obeyed.
Many at once pointed their muskets at Karen, their bayonets aimed to pierce through her fair skin. Angered, Karen drew her daggers on her arms, pivoting them on their track to hold them at their hilts, eyes of fury gleaming back at her enemies. With a spin on her heel, she turned to the redcoat behind her, stabbing him in the gut, then lifting her leg up to sideswipe him in his jaw. The man fell to the ground with a thud, others replacing him as Karen continued to spin, stab, twirl and dodge the attackers.
A bloodbath. The battle should have been unfair, but Karen kept her ground, only stumbling a few times as more redcoats attacked her, some switching to close combat weapons, while others stayed back, reloading their muskets to fire at her. As a firing squad fired at her, she pulled a man in front of her body with her dagger, spinning him into a chokehold, his body vibrating from the impact of four bullets. Tossing the body aside, she looked to the roof, seeing Rowan waiting patiently for his time to strike. Karen looked back to her attackers, sliding her dagger along one man's neck as she stepped on another's boot with extreme force, making him double over, allowing her to stab a dagger through the man's shoulder, killing him instantly.
Bodies lay everywhere, strewn about on the ground like a cannon fire had killed all the men in a grotesque manner. Pools of blood formed at Karen's feet as she did her dance of death, blocking and striking men with elegant grace. Her hood kept her face mostly covered as she moved about the grounds, showing only her pink lips, bearing a small smile as she cut the life out of the men who dared try to attack her.
The Watchdog, having been looking on from a distance joined the battle, slashing his captain's sword in a downward arc towards Karen's back. Just in time, Karen had time to spin, bringing both of her daggers up in an X formation to block the sword. Her limbs shook as she fought back against the man's strength, a glare of anger on her face, while on his a smirk of dominance.
"You're tired, Assassin, why don't you just give in now." The Watchdog taunted, pulling his sword away.
"N--never!" Karen yelled back, desperately heaving air into her lungs, "You don't deserve life, you foul beast!"
The Watchdog broke out into a loud cackle, bringing a hand to his face, "Oh is that so? But your thoughts say otherwise! You don't think you can beat me..! You're too tired to go on."
Karen's eyes widened. His words were a repetition of exactly what she was thinking not too long ago. Forcing in deep breaths, Karen frowned to him, staying silent. How did he know what she was thinking? How could he read her mind? The thoughts swirled in her head, the confusion setting in. She tried not to think about it, dashing at him with a roar, aiming to kill him.
She missed. He easily stepped to the side, kicking her in the back as she sailed past him. Falling to the ground, she turned to him, unable to get up, struck with fear. Slowly, his boots stomping in the damp dirt of the compound, he approached, sheathing his sword with a wicked smirk on his face. Could this be the end? Was she really going to die here?
"You can't beat me. No matter how much you question it... I will win. I can read your thoughts."
Karen's chest rose and fell with her deep breathing; she would not accept this as her end. She would never die at the hands of such a man. "I I can still fight you. You swine." She spat forward at him, throwing as much hate into the gesture as possible. The notion made The Watchdog frown, and he drew his flintlock pistol.
Looking up to him with eyes of disgust, she waited for him to aim the gun at her. Unable to move away in time, she had no choice but to accept her fate. This was the end. She would die at the hands of a Templar that outlasted her in battle.
Aiming his gun at her head, he cocked the hammer, ready to end her life. She started off into his eyes, accepting her fate, but not removing the hateful glare on her face. No, the disgust would stay there. She would never beg for her life, nor would she grovel or break down into tears.
The gunshot sounded, like an echo in a dank cave, the noise staying in the air for a moment. The Watchdog looked down at his chest; a darkening hole was visible, cutting through his coat. Oozing from his chest, blood emerged, his body going limp, falling backwards onto the ground.
Karen looked around, seeing Rowan jogging over to her, a fearful look on his face as he kneeled beside her, offering a hand. She hesitated before taking his hand, unsure if this were a dream, or still her reality. The sight of Rowan made her smile, feeling warm inside, happy to see a familiar face.
"Come on," Rowan said in a calm, shaky voice, "its over. We need to get out of here."
Karen looked towards him for a while, just taking in the scene of him, his concerned smile and his warm hand against hers, contrasted against the multitude of dead bodies lying around on the fort grounds. She pulled on his hand to help herself stand, her legs groaning at the forced effort to stay up. She sighed, looking to The Watchdog, keeping herself from shaking. She wasn't going to break down. She was not going to cry, especially with Rowan around.
Slowly, Karen walked over The Watchdogs lifeless body, kneeling beside it and taking the talisman off his personage, sinking it into a pocket on the inside of her waistcoat. They had beaten the man; taxes would no longer have extra pounds added to them. At least not unjust extra pounds.
"T-that's all we need " Karen said in a dead tone, "We need to get out of here."
Rowan looked to her with slight concern, "Yeah, you're right. I'm sure the Jagers will be running towards us soon. We better bolt."
Karen turned on her heels, mustering up as much strength as she could as she began walking away; she needed to return to her natural self. This was not like her. What was keeping her so dizzy?
Rowan walked up beside her, showing his usual, confident sliver of a smile, " You'll have to run if you want to escape, Karen." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, "Do you think you can do that?"
Looking to him, she nodded, his words seeping into her like a soothing dip in a lake. The words calmed her, and made her feel strong again. With a smile, she nodded back to Rowan, feeling the strength return to her whole body, "Y--yes. Of course." With that she took larger, more confident strides, speeding up into a run as she left the fort, Rowan tailing right behind her.