Loki Odinson
God of Lies and Trickery
Funny how a few leagues southwards across an unholy span of ocean can bring such a profound change in scenery and general make-up of the land. That was the general sentiment floating around in Halt's mind as the large merchant ship docked rather peacefully at port. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and the older Ranger pulled his grey woolen cloak all the more tighter around his body. His usual Ranger's outfit was currently bundled up and in the care of Abelard in the pans below. Gilan, Will and Horace were also dressed in mecenary-like clothing in an effort to blend in Florence in its current state, primary weapons displayed clearly in the open. The mottled attire of Aralaun's Rangers was rather renown throughout the known world, after all. It was mid-autumn now, and the winds of Italy were proving to be rather chilly of the bone-deep kind. He dreaded to think how cold it would turn when winter came about. Hopefully, the quelling of this long-standing rebellion against the ruling Borgia Family wouldn't take all that long. But Halt was already half-preparing for the inevitable. From his past experiences, the universe and his plans never got along. Rather like his stomach and the sea.
That unsavoury thought caused him to sweep his eyes over his three younger companions, all of whom were unsubtly trying not to meet his eyes just like they had made themselves as scarce as possible during the week of voyage. He pursed his lips but refrained from commenting. After a number of times travelling with either one or all of them over large bodies of water, Halt wasn't about to freely gift them with a chance of making jabs at his one major weakness anytime soon.
Horace - the honest warrior that he was amongst the other scheming Rangers - decided to cut through any teasing even before Will could open his mouth. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his sword buckle and scratched his chin. "So Halt...what are we going to do now? Any suggestions?"
"For starters, get our horses. We aren't going to make it far in a day by travelling on foot." Halt replied gruffly, eyeing the merchants as they slowly unloaded three Temujai horses and one large war horse. "After that, we do what we always have to in vague situations. Information gathering."
"Are we going to ride in a group? Should we split up? We wouldn't look too suspicious like this, would we?" Will asked off as soon as the last word left Halt's mouth.
The older Ranger rolled his eyes slightly at the usual rapid-fire questions that came from his second student. "Yes, no and no. We look like any other run-of-the-mill mercenaries and we've got proper passes. As long as none of you are stupid enough to proclaim loyalty to King Duncan aloud in the streets, we should be fine."
Tightening the straps of Abelard's saddle, Halt mounted swiftly and awaited the others to be ready before he started down the short dirt road leading to the gates of Florence.
How far the once great city have fallen. Tiziana's gaze swept the dull streets of the marketplace below from her perch atop the clocktower near the centre of Florence. Every once in a while, her eyes cut towards the rooftops to her right to check on her field partner. Era could take care of himself, that she knew more than anyone else, but she couldn't help being a little overprotective of the younger Assassin despite their rather strange relationship. Maybe it could be akin to how one viewed a younger sibling, but she wouldn't know, having not grown up with a proper childhood and family.
A loud crash drew her attention back to the marketplace and she straightened from her crouch. Four Borgia guards stood in a loose semi-circle before a collapsed wooden store, laughing uproariously as the owner fell on all fours to the cobblestones in order to salvage his goods. As soon as his arms were full, the leader of that particular squad delivered a solid kick to his ribs, throwing the civilian to the side and crushing a good portion of merchandise. Tiziana's jaw clenched in anger, but restrained herself from leaping down and driving her daggers through the skulls of Borgia's men. It would be so easy to finish off that pathetic squad, but even so, she could not. Or rather, she will not ruin an entire fortnight's worth of planning to save one citizen. She just hoped that Era would be able to control his impulses as well. This was meant to be a scouting mission only, in preparation to rescue a number of Assassin-sympathisers from execution this afternoon. If any killing of guards happen now, the public execution led by Francesco Salviatin - a member of Borgia's inner circle - would be cancelled. Not only would the Brotherhood lose valuable members, but the time spent planning, the chance to strike a fatal blow and easing the path for the liberation of Florence would be lost.
Both Master Assassins had been noting the positions of the guards stationed around Florence, as well as replaced some of the others with La Volpe's thieves in disguise, creating several weaknesses and blindspots in the previously strong line of communication between the Borgia guards and hired mercenaries. In Tiziana's opinion, the mercenaries would be easily dealt with. Since they were loyal only to money, threatening them with a show of skills and force would make them retreat. Most individuals value life above even money, after all. Now, all they had to do was wait until afternoon and foul the Templar's plans. Until then, she was to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.
That unsavoury thought caused him to sweep his eyes over his three younger companions, all of whom were unsubtly trying not to meet his eyes just like they had made themselves as scarce as possible during the week of voyage. He pursed his lips but refrained from commenting. After a number of times travelling with either one or all of them over large bodies of water, Halt wasn't about to freely gift them with a chance of making jabs at his one major weakness anytime soon.
Horace - the honest warrior that he was amongst the other scheming Rangers - decided to cut through any teasing even before Will could open his mouth. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his sword buckle and scratched his chin. "So Halt...what are we going to do now? Any suggestions?"
"For starters, get our horses. We aren't going to make it far in a day by travelling on foot." Halt replied gruffly, eyeing the merchants as they slowly unloaded three Temujai horses and one large war horse. "After that, we do what we always have to in vague situations. Information gathering."
"Are we going to ride in a group? Should we split up? We wouldn't look too suspicious like this, would we?" Will asked off as soon as the last word left Halt's mouth.
The older Ranger rolled his eyes slightly at the usual rapid-fire questions that came from his second student. "Yes, no and no. We look like any other run-of-the-mill mercenaries and we've got proper passes. As long as none of you are stupid enough to proclaim loyalty to King Duncan aloud in the streets, we should be fine."
Tightening the straps of Abelard's saddle, Halt mounted swiftly and awaited the others to be ready before he started down the short dirt road leading to the gates of Florence.
How far the once great city have fallen. Tiziana's gaze swept the dull streets of the marketplace below from her perch atop the clocktower near the centre of Florence. Every once in a while, her eyes cut towards the rooftops to her right to check on her field partner. Era could take care of himself, that she knew more than anyone else, but she couldn't help being a little overprotective of the younger Assassin despite their rather strange relationship. Maybe it could be akin to how one viewed a younger sibling, but she wouldn't know, having not grown up with a proper childhood and family.
A loud crash drew her attention back to the marketplace and she straightened from her crouch. Four Borgia guards stood in a loose semi-circle before a collapsed wooden store, laughing uproariously as the owner fell on all fours to the cobblestones in order to salvage his goods. As soon as his arms were full, the leader of that particular squad delivered a solid kick to his ribs, throwing the civilian to the side and crushing a good portion of merchandise. Tiziana's jaw clenched in anger, but restrained herself from leaping down and driving her daggers through the skulls of Borgia's men. It would be so easy to finish off that pathetic squad, but even so, she could not. Or rather, she will not ruin an entire fortnight's worth of planning to save one citizen. She just hoped that Era would be able to control his impulses as well. This was meant to be a scouting mission only, in preparation to rescue a number of Assassin-sympathisers from execution this afternoon. If any killing of guards happen now, the public execution led by Francesco Salviatin - a member of Borgia's inner circle - would be cancelled. Not only would the Brotherhood lose valuable members, but the time spent planning, the chance to strike a fatal blow and easing the path for the liberation of Florence would be lost.
Both Master Assassins had been noting the positions of the guards stationed around Florence, as well as replaced some of the others with La Volpe's thieves in disguise, creating several weaknesses and blindspots in the previously strong line of communication between the Borgia guards and hired mercenaries. In Tiziana's opinion, the mercenaries would be easily dealt with. Since they were loyal only to money, threatening them with a show of skills and force would make them retreat. Most individuals value life above even money, after all. Now, all they had to do was wait until afternoon and foul the Templar's plans. Until then, she was to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.