Altaïr ibn La-Ahad (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theflyingone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2014-05-03 02:44 am
theflyingone) wrote in paradisalogs2014-05-03 02:44 am
Entry tags:
It seems my students do not fully understand...
Who: Altaïr and YOU
What: Defense class, which is secretly a spy class, which is secretly a way for Altaïr to find some allies. Or so he hopes.
When: May 1-3, any hour; please specify date + time
Where: City's craftsmen district
Rating: PG? for sparring and mention of killing.
Altaïr conducted much of his work—spying, subterfuge, assassination, saving old ladies—during broad daylight. Today was no different. He was up with the earliest of shopkeepers in the craftsmen district, the crisp morning light throwing blue shadows on his white robes. He came here often to familiarize himself with the city. He felt this area would provide the right variety of people in a crowd. Good training ground for most activities, and there were clear bits of land not too far off where sparring could be practiced.
He was expecting some students who'd responded to his post in the journal, and perhaps even some who hadn't. Collecting people through the journal's messages was still a bit strange to him, but teaching was something familiar, having done much of it back home. A master assassin could not amount to much if he could not pass on what he knew. And, the Assassins in general would not be able to do their work without scouting for new recruits and allies.
What the Castle expected of them seemed too much in line with the servility the Templars back home also demanded. The Assassins were their longtime enemies, favoring freedom rather than control. Altaïr hoped to meet people of like mind. Those who wished to defend themselves already possessed a certain initiative, which could be the beginning of free thought. Surely there were people here unhappy with being taken from their lands...
Altaïr ruminated on this between his "classes", standing next to a blacksmith shop. Though he looked like a (well-armed) hooded scholar lost in the stillness of thought, his eyes still scanned the crowd with the ingrained vigilance of his training. He waited in plain sight, to be found more easily. He could not expect everyone to have already mastered seeing the unseen. He would be teaching how to see, how to remain hidden, the art of movement, and sparring with blades—most likely in that order, unless someone proved exceptionally ready for more than just the basics.
What: Defense class, which is secretly a spy class, which is secretly a way for Altaïr to find some allies. Or so he hopes.
When: May 1-3, any hour; please specify date + time
Where: City's craftsmen district
Rating: PG? for sparring and mention of killing.
Altaïr conducted much of his work—spying, subterfuge, assassination, saving old ladies—during broad daylight. Today was no different. He was up with the earliest of shopkeepers in the craftsmen district, the crisp morning light throwing blue shadows on his white robes. He came here often to familiarize himself with the city. He felt this area would provide the right variety of people in a crowd. Good training ground for most activities, and there were clear bits of land not too far off where sparring could be practiced.
He was expecting some students who'd responded to his post in the journal, and perhaps even some who hadn't. Collecting people through the journal's messages was still a bit strange to him, but teaching was something familiar, having done much of it back home. A master assassin could not amount to much if he could not pass on what he knew. And, the Assassins in general would not be able to do their work without scouting for new recruits and allies.
What the Castle expected of them seemed too much in line with the servility the Templars back home also demanded. The Assassins were their longtime enemies, favoring freedom rather than control. Altaïr hoped to meet people of like mind. Those who wished to defend themselves already possessed a certain initiative, which could be the beginning of free thought. Surely there were people here unhappy with being taken from their lands...
Altaïr ruminated on this between his "classes", standing next to a blacksmith shop. Though he looked like a (well-armed) hooded scholar lost in the stillness of thought, his eyes still scanned the crowd with the ingrained vigilance of his training. He waited in plain sight, to be found more easily. He could not expect everyone to have already mastered seeing the unseen. He would be teaching how to see, how to remain hidden, the art of movement, and sparring with blades—most likely in that order, unless someone proved exceptionally ready for more than just the basics.
no subject
Nodding at Altaïr, Gren moved as directed, his strides easy and his head down. He diverted quickly to the side, casually avoiding the path of merchant with a hand cart and towards the family. As Altaïr had done, he brushed the shoulder of a man, who moved to let the presence behind him pass with little thought. Conversing loudly, their attentions on the smaller children that ran in circles at their feet, they did not notice as Gren fell into stride behind the group. He didn't look at the guards as their paths crossed. He was just a face in the crowd, he thought to himself, letting go of his worries with a relaxed droop of his shoulders. There was one sure-fire way to make a person stand out, and that was to actually look like you were trying to hide.