No time like the present...or not?
[Complete 3 Assassin Quests (1/3)]
I took out another parchment with assassination details.
The parchment unfurled with a soft crackle.
[Assassin Contract: "The Whisper in the Cloisters"]
Target: Father Giuliano d'Agnello
Location: Santa Croce Monastery
Objective: Eliminate the target quietly. No civilian casualties.
Details: Former ally turned informant. Selling secrets to the Templars under the guise of confession. His betrayal has cost three brothers their lives. End his whispering before it becomes a roar.
I folded the parchment and tucked it into my bracer.
A monastery. Templar informants using religion to cloak their lies—it was poetic in the worst way.
I marked the location mentally. Santa Croce wasn't far. Just southeast, past the Arno. I could make it in ten minutes, faster if I stayed above the streets.
I took off with a running start, boots tapping against the terracotta rooftops like the rhythm of war drums. The wind kissed my face as I leapt across a narrow gap, catching the edge of a weathered chimney with a gloved hand. Below, Florence bustled—vendors shouting, carts rattling, children laughing.
Santa Croce Monastery.
Its stone spires soon came into view, rising above the maze of alleys and plazas like watchful sentinels. The bells tolled once. Midday prayers.
Perfect timing.
I crouched near the monastery's outer wall, watching through a break in the ivy-covered brick. Two guards stood by the front gates—bored, lazy, the kind who relied more on their uniforms than training.
I didn't plan on using the front door anyway.
My eyes scanned upward—stone lattice windows, narrow but scalable. A rainpipe stretched from the roof to the edge of a sloped arch.
I leapt up, boots finding purchase on a carved relief of Saint Dominic, then swung up to the pipe. The metal groaned but held. One step at a time, I climbed, slipping through a half-open window into the upper levels of the monastery.
Inside, the air was thick with incense and whispered prayers. Monks shuffled in and out of dimly lit corridors, robes brushing against the cold stone floor. My footsteps were ghosts among them—silent, unseen.
'Eagle Vision Activated'
Shapes flared to life.
White silhouettes—civilians.
Red—two guards stationed near the altar.
And there—gold.
Father Giuliano.
He stood inside the confessional, hands folded, speaking softly through the lattice to an unseen listener.
I moved.
Stuck to the shadows, I followed the edge of the upper gallery, above the pews. With a flick of the wrist hidden blade slid out with—snikt—the blade extended with a satisfying hiss.
I positioned myself above the confessional, heart steady, breath even. Giuliano's voice echoed faintly up the vaulted ceiling, too quiet to catch words, but the cadence reeked of falsehood—measured, rehearsed. The serpent in robes.
He didn't know I was already upon him.
I dropped behind a pillar as a monk shuffled past below, hands clasped and head bowed. Another step and he would've seen me. Timing. That was everything.
I moved when the hymn began—Gregorian chant flooding the air like cover from the gods themselves.
Down the narrow spiral stairwell.
Across the stone arch.
Past a cracked wooden beam that creaked with the weight of secrets.
Closer.
Closer.
I reached the back of the confessional just as Father Giuliano stepped out, his expression serene. A shepherd in sheep's clothing. I trailed him, silent as a breath, past the incense burners and crumbling statues of saints. He turned a corner, toward the cloister garden.
Perfect.
A forgotten courtyard behind the sanctuary. Walled in. Quiet. Empty.
I emerged from the shadows behind him.
He barely turned before I struck.
Thunk.
The hidden blade slid clean between his ribs—angled up, into the heart. No time to scream. Just a sharp exhale, like a prayer lost in the wind.
His eyes widened. "You…"
"I know," I whispered.
I eased him down onto a stone bench, head tilted as if in meditation. To any passerby, he'd look at peace.
But peace was the last thing he deserved.
[Target Eliminated – Stealth Execution Bonus Achieved]
[+1250 XP | +90 Stealth XP]
[Level Up!]
[+2 Skill Point]
[Current Level: 3 (345/3000)]
[Skill Points: 4]
'I will unlock the skill afterwards, for now one more target to go and then—'
[Objective: Synchronize a Viewpoint – Pending]
Before I left, I glanced back once.
The garden was silent again. A breeze rustled the olive branches overhead, sending pale sunlight dancing across Giuliano's body. His blood had already begun to soak into the ancient stones beneath the bench, but the shadows swallowed it quickly—like the earth itself refused to remember him.
I exhaled and slipped back into the monastery, retracing my steps with the same silence I'd entered with. Down the pipe. Across the rooftops.
Santa Croce faded behind me.
Two down. One to go.
I perched on the edge of a rooftop, surveying Florence once more. The city pulsed beneath me—alive, oblivious to the war waged in its veins. I took out the last parchment.
[Assassin Contract: "The Jackal of the Docks"]
Target: Marco Salviati
Location: Porto Vecchio, South Docks
Objective:Eliminate the target and retrieve a stolen ledger.
Details: Smuggler turned Templar financier. Handles illicit funds funneled into Florence's criminal underworld. The ledger contains names, locations, and coin trails—essential to unravel the Templar web. Do not let it fall into enemy hands.
Porto Vecchio… the city's underbelly. The kind of place where knives solved arguments quicker than words.
I folded the parchment and stuffed it into my belt pouch.
Three assassinations. Three pieces of a puzzle that stretched beyond Florence.
If Giuliano whispered secrets, and Pietro passed messages, then Marco? He paid for them.
The body. The voice. The coin.
Cut those three, and you choke the snake.
I ran toward the docks, sun beginning to dip low. The golden hour painted Florence in warm fire—rooftops glowed, windows gleamed like polished glass. But where I was going? Gold turned to rust.
The docks smelled of fish, piss, and spilled wine. Sailors shouted over crates. Dirty children weaved between barrels. Men with tired eyes and bloody knuckles watched everything.
I slipped into the crowd, cloak draped, hood low.
No rooftops here. Not yet. This part of Florence belonged to the ground—and those who ruled it.
I passed a tavern with busted windows. A man was vomiting in the alley. Another sharpened a dagger on his boot. It was all noise. I kept walking.
Then I saw him.
Marco Salviati.
He was easy to spot. Wealth clung to him like rot—rings on every finger, fine boots too clean for these streets, a velvet vest that didn't match the grease-stained world around him. He laughed with two dockhands and slapped a pouch of florins into one's palm.
Eagle Vision.
Gold.His two companions? Red.
Of course.
I ducked behind a row of crates. There were too many eyes. Too many exits.
Then I saw the ship.
Salviati was moving toward it, ledger in hand. Headed for a private cabin onboard a galleon tied to the far dock. If he got there and set sail, this trail would go cold.
I sprinted into motion—vaulted onto a stack of barrels, climbed the side of a tattered sail, and leapt onto the rigging.
My hands burned from the rope. The salt stung my nose. But from here, I had the angle.
He boarded the ship.
I landed silently on the stern deck as his men turned to talk to the harbor master.
He opened the cabin door.
I followed.
Inside, the cabin was small—books, wine bottles, a small shrine to St. Nicholas. The ledger was open.
He turned.
His eyes widened.
"Wait, I—!"
Too late.
Thunk.
The blade buried into his throat. He gurgled, tried to scream, but his voice died as quickly as he did.
[Target Eliminated – Clean Execution Bonus]
[+1000 XP | +100 Stealth XP | Ledger Retrieved]
[Current Level: 3 (1445/3000)]
Nicely done~
Now lastly—
I took out the eagle feather attached to the parchment—dipped it into the fresh blood oozing out of his throat and pressed it against the contract seal on the parchment.
The ledger was heavier than I expected—bound in black leather, reinforced with iron clasps, and filled with columns of coded names and numbers. I didn't need to crack it now. That was for someone smarter—someone trusted.
Someone like… Leonardo.
I slipped it into my satchel and made my way off the galleon, leaving Salviati's body slumped across his writing desk. His blood trailed into the grain of the floorboards, a crimson underline to the end of his corrupt legacy.
The city never even flinched.
I melted into the shadows, passing by drunks, beggars, and dockworkers like smoke. With the final contract complete, only one thing remained.
Synchronization.
The tower.
The Palazzo Vecchio.
The sky had darkened by the time I reached it. Torches lit the streets. Florence shimmered beneath the rising moon like a dream half-remembered—both beautiful and deadly. Just like the world I was now part of.
The climb up the Palazzo was less a challenge, more a meditation. Each stone, each ledge, each handhold felt like it had waited centuries for this moment. For me. I moved with purpose—silent, sure.
Up past banners fluttering in the wind.
Past guards who never looked up.
Until at last, I stood at the pinnacle of the tower, wind whipping through my robes.
Below me, Florence pulsed like a living map.
I let my eyes close.
I let the breath slow.
And then—
[Viewpoint Synchronized – Florence: Centro Storico]
[Congratulations Initiate for completing the promotion requirements:
▸ Complete 3 Assassin Quests (3/3)
▸ Perform a Perfect Stealth Elimination (1/1)
▸ Synchronize a Viewpoint (1/1)
[Rewards: +2 Skill Point, Skill Unlock: Leap of Faith,]
[Claim the rewards?]
'Claim'
[Rewards Claimed]
[Skill Unlocked: Leap of Faith]Description: Allows the Assassin to safely dive from great heights into designated landing spots such as haystacks, water troughs, or flower carts. Synced with Eagle Vision for optimal positioning.
[+2 Skill Points Earned]
[Skill Points: 6]
[Assassin Rank Up: Initiate]
A sharp gust tugged at my robes as I stood on the tip of the Palazzo tower, the city of Florence sprawling beneath me like a labyrinth of fate. The stars shimmered above, echoing a promise: this was only the beginning.
I drew in a deep breath, then stepped forward—
And fell.
The world roared past me in a rush of wind and stone and starlight—
fwump!
—into a haystack tucked between two stalls in a quiet courtyard, hidden from the world. My heart was steady. My landing, silent. The Leap of Faith… it felt less like falling, and more like flying.
***
By the time I returned to Villa Auditore, the stars had shifted overhead, and the candles inside were burning low. I scaled the wall in a matter of seconds, and leapt inside my room through the window which I left slightly ajar. The familiar scent of parchment, aged wood, and faint lavender from Claudia's sachets greeted me.
I quickly shredded my new assassin robes and changed into something more inconspicuous.
With that done, I again leapt out of the window into the side alleyways.
And walk through the front door like an innocent boy—
"FRATELLINO! Where have you been? Mother was this close to storming the patrol barracks to report you missing!" Ezio and Federico were already in the main hall of Villa Auditore, standing near the fireplace, their faces half-lit by the dancing flames. Ezio's expression was stern, but there was a hint of relief in his eyes. Federico stood with arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently, clearly more concerned than his older brother.
I froze in the doorway, pretending to catch my breath. The dust of Florence still clung to my cloak, and the adrenaline hadn't quite worn off yet.
"I—"
"Were you with Leonardo in his workshop again? Seriously lil' brother, I'm telling you that guy give me creeps with the way he stares at my Culo." Ezio grumbled as he dapped his arms around my shoulder with a laugh. Federico rolled his eyes, but it was clear they were both trying to hide the tension.
"Yeah, sure, I was with Leonardo," I replied, shrugging off my cloak with a nonchalance that I didn't quite feel. "I was... just helping him with some sketches."
Ezio raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Sketches, eh?" He stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips. "What kind of sketches?"
I gave him an exaggerated grin. "You know, the usual. Cats, pigeons, maybe a couple of... pigeons."
Ezio laughed, but I could see the concern in his eyes. "Just don't get yourself tangled up in any of his 'projects,' Dante. We don't need more trouble right now."
Federico, ever the older brother, dropped his teasing tone, giving me a serious look. "Yeah, I heard Francesco de' Pazzi is arrested. You know how much of an enemy we're with Pazzi."