Vittori Agli Assassini

Devon let out a long, slow breath, pulling back the eagle-beaked hood to allow all the sounds of Italy to reach her ears. Il Maestro might call for the recruits soon, and she would be needed as soon as she heard him.

Around her, she knew, there was at least one other recruit, though she wasn't entirely certain where he--or she--was. As she walked down the streets of Rome, her gaze slid from face to face and from landmark to landmark, never lingering long enough to draw suspicion. The other assassin could be hiding in a bale of hay, in disguise, or simply blending among groups of unaware citizens as they made their way through the city. Devon decided not to look too hard; if the other recruit had learned anything, it would be to hide efficiently.

Devon lifted her gaze to the sky, then paused. Over the din of the city, she heard the call; a two-note whistle meant to sound like a bird's call to unaware ears. Devon ducked around into an alley and hauled herself with ease to the rooftop of a shop by the overhanging eaves, then moved carefully to the edge. She could see her master moving swiftly through the streets, drawing his sword as he went. In the distance, she could hear shouts, and she saw a few more guards taking the same route ahead of the man. Clangs of swords rang in the distance. Devon had to wonder what the fight might be about, but had a feeling she knew what it might be to peak the master assassin's interest so.

Citizens frequently got into fights with the guards, after all.

A black haired figure ran through the crowded streets, jumping around and barely dodging the citizens. He held a old looking sword in one hand, keeping it close enough to make sure he didn't accidentally impale someone as he ran by them. He had been running from the Borgia guards for a few minutes now, stopping periodically to try and fend them off. Looking back, he couldn't even remember exactly what he had said to piss them off. But it didn't really matter now. He turned down a alley to try and get away from some of the guards but something behind him grabbed the back off his shirt and yanked him back roughly. The tall, younger man toppled backwards dropping his sword, the metal clanging loudly against the cobblestone. He cursed under his breath in pain and tried to get up but he was pushed back to the ground by a boot to his chest. As he tempted to spit out a insult a sharp blade was moved to his fleshy neck by the guard that held him in place.
"You will regret everything you have said, boy..." The guard growled.
Seeing that this guard wasn't going to hesitate to kill him this time, Drake pulled a small broken knife from his side and dug it into the guards leg. When the guard pulled his leg away in pain he quickly jumped up, backing until he back met a cold wall. The other guards moved forward to corner him, blades drawn. Drake glanced at his own sword on the ground, it was too far. Then he glanced at the surrounding walls, everything was too high or too plain to climb. He was stuck this time. He felt so stupid, he knew this city like the back of his hand, why the hell did he pick this alley to run down?
Perhaps he had wanted it this way and he didn't even know it.

Devon sprinted across the rooftops, grateful that most of the guards that normally occupied rooftop posts had abandoned them in favor of the excitement below. She pulled her hood up as she went, not willing to make it so obvious who she was. Her family had been minor nobility at best, but it wouldn't be impossible for somebody to know--not to mention wanted posters would be plastered across the city with her face.

As she approached the scene, she came upon a young black-haired man, cornered by guards in an empty alleyway. Across the way, on another roof, she saw another recruit taking knee, a crossbow in hand. Below, her master had slowed to a walk, creeping up to the guards. There were five guards surrounding the young man; her master would likely kill the two nearest him, the other recruit had his crossbow trained on the one just below his roof, and Devon didn't think it unlikely that another recruit had hidden in the cart of hay just behind one of the others.

Devon flicked her wrist and leaped from the ledge. Her feet came down on the guard's back a millisecond before her hidden blade found the man's heart.

Davicus hated using the hay bails to hide in, but he hadn't quite mastered the rooftops yet. For now this was the best way he could serve the order, as much as he hated the suffocating feeling of being buried here. Focus. He needed to focus he reminded himself. His master might call for his aid, he needed to be ready. Earlier Davicus had spotted the commotion brewing. To make sure he was ready to help he had positioned himself here, where it seemed that man had been heading. This was the worst part though, the waiting. Moving through the city was an adventure, closing in for the kill was a thrill. This? Torture. But he needed to be patient.

That was when he heard it. The shouting had been growing closer, but then he heard the footsteps not 4 feet away. The sound of a body hitting the ground... scuffling... and a bird whistling. With a smirk he gripped the dagger in his hand and tensed his muscles. One more footstep told him where the guard was, and that was all he needed. Davicus sprang up, hooking his left arm around the guards neck and pulling him back towards the cart. His other hand came forward with the dagger, but was knocked away as the guard started twisting around. "Damnit..." Davicus muttered, though the sound was lost to the noise of their struggle. The guard threw off his grip and turned to face him, but Davicus was ready. He pulled back slightly before leaping forward. He barreled into the guard, knocking them both onto the street. Before the guard had a chance to react, Davicus viciously stabbed him in the chest 3 times. As the guard stopped resisting, he quickly stood back up to survey the situation. That could have gone better.

Drake was just preparing himself to feel the sharp sting of metal slide into his skin from the guards when something suddenly fell from the sky, landing on the guard and killing him instantly. It seemed at the same time the other guards were taken down in some other way, puzzling Drake. He blinked several times until his mind wrapped around the idea that they had been killed. The figure that had fallen from the sky was a person dressed in white robes. He had seen them around before, one or two blending into crowds or disappearing around corners. This was the first time he had ever seen one in action. He wasn't exactly sure who they were, but they had just saved his life. That made the friends.

When all the guards were laying still he let his stiff shoulders droop and took a moment to catch his breath that he had not yet had a chance to catch. Drake was a tall and slender young man with a good amount of muscles hiding under ratty clothes, He was clean, so he wasn't a street rat. But it was pretty easy to tell that he was not the type to have money or spare money on new clothes. His hair was shaggy and black, hanging loosely over his bright blue eyes. And he had a few cuts and nicks here and there from his short fights with the Borgia guards. He watched the robed figures, words failing him in his throat for a few moments. They all had performed so perfectly, or rather, perfectly for what he was used to doing.

Devon let out a short breath and stood up from the dead guard. A glance to the side told her that, as she expected, her master had quickly killed the two guards. One guard was slumped on the ground, a crossbow bolt in his heart.

The last took slightly longer. Devon watched, her blade half-raised as the other recruit momentarily struggled to kill the guard he had attacked. She saw her master likewise watching the hapless recruit, until the guard was finally killed somewhat clumsily. Satisfied that nobody would have to intervene, Devon knelt to wipe her blade clean on her target's shirt, then picked up the body to dump in the hay cart, mumbling a halfhearted "Requiescat in pace" under her breath.

Her master, on the other hand, had taken an interest in the citizen they had rescued. He was a tall man, easily in his late thirties or early forties, older than the other assassins. He glanced over Drake briefly, then extended his hand to help him.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

Seeing that everyone else had already taken care of their targets, Davicus relaxed slightly, but only until he noticed the others watching him. He was glad he had the grey duster covering his mouth when he grimaced. He gave a curt nod to the other assassin before giving a quick bow towards his master. "Il Maestro." Afterwards he hurriedly pulled the body into the cart. None of the blood had reached the ground, but his sleeve was stained. Sloppy.

He turned to leave, but realized Ezio hadn't signaled him to vanish yet. I'm about to get a lecture, aren't I? He stepped closer, only now getting a good look at the man they had rescued. He looked like he had seen his fair share of combat, though obviously he was far from being an assassin. Still, there was something that Ezio... Master, wanted with him.

Drake looked at the mans hand for a moment, swallowing past a dry lump in his throat. He couldn't completely figure out why they had saved him in he first place. He took the mans hand after a second and stood up dusting himself off.
"Nothing that wont heal in a couple days..." He said once he was standing again. He glanced back at the other two that were still there, hiding bodies in a cart of hay. He had never thought of doing that. He had only killed a couple people out of self defense and he had never know what to do with the bodies. Fleeing the scene was his only option.
"Thank you for helping me," Drake added, a bit more sure of his words now. It wasn't like him to feel smaller then others, but they made him feel so under trained and out smarted. He needed to be a part of this. He was beginning to understand that, little by little.

Once all the bodies had been taken care of, Devon lightly dusted herself down and looked around. The recruit on the roof had gone, but she and Davicus had both decided to linger. Truthfully, Devon had no need to remain in the area, but Ezio only ever had a few recruits with him at any given time--it seemed foolish to run off when only two remained.

The man nodded. "The liberation of Roma has begun," he said, looking over his shoulder as his recruits finished cleaning the area. "You will not have to live in fear of this for much longer."

Davicus suddenly realized what was going on when Ezio helped the man to his feet. He was recruiting him. For some reason that put a sick feeling in Davicus's stomach. This is the first time he had seen Ezio recruit someone since he himself had been recruited. It made perfect sense that there would be others, but he liked to think he was that one person that his master had been looking for. Shaking these thoughts from his head, he focused back in on the present. His blade was still in his hand for some reason. Davicus quickly wiped the blood from it and returned it to the belt on his hip. The knife was small enough that his tunic completely hid it from view.

It felt strange to be here. Was he supposed to be doing something? He threw a sidelong glance at the other assassin, curious if she were performing some part of a ceremony he knew nothing of.

Drake went silent again as the older assassin spoke. He glanced back at the other tow again. He could clearly tell that the one was a guy, but the other he couldn't tell for sure. It seemed to have a slightly feminine figure, but he could have easily been mistaken.

"Let me join you, " he quickly said without even thinking. He had nothing to lose, literally. And he wanted to be a part of something bigger then himself. Bigger then his petty thefts and insults to guards.
"I know I'm not much, but I can learn. And I'm willing to put the effort into it." Drake added, sure that this elite group wasn't just going to let a nobody like him in so easily. He didn't think that he could say anymore then just that.

The assassin hesitated a brief moment. His gaze flickered over Drake as if assessing him.

Devon cleared her throat lightly, deciding to interrupt in that brief second of silence. She bowed briefly to her master, and started to bid him farewell, when he held up a hand to make her stay. He looked at Drake for a moment as though he would ask a question, but must have decided against it, because he looked away from him and toward the more adept assassin.

"Devon," he said, and Devon immediately straightened as she was addressed. "Take him to the hideout and assist him. You should return as well." He glanced to Davicus, then once more looked back at Drake. "What is your name?"

Did I sound that desperate when I joined too? It was strange to hear such reverence in the man's voice. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks since the Master had been helping him to his feet and welcoming him to the Order. Still, he felt he had earned a place in that time.

Being addressed directly by his Master always left Davicus with a feeling of exhilaration, as well as a fearful respect. "As you wish." He waited for the other assassin to move, since she was the one actually ordered to lead the new recruit. He wondered how long she had been in the Order for. How long would it take him to reach that level?

"oh, Uh. Drake Craven." Drake said firmly. Saying his last name almost left a bitter taste on his tongue. He wasn't proud of his name by any means. His family had been known for working closely with the Borgia. That was, when they were alive. No one really knew what part they played in it, it seemed like they were just a small family of traders, but they supplied weapons and armor to the Borgia for free to support them. But then about 10 years ago the last of the family had been wiped out. All but a couple little boys who seemed much too harmless and were left to be orphans on the streets. Drake hated his family and it was part of the reason he hated the Borgia so much.

On another train of thought, Drake couldn't help but have a strange hint of recognition toward the other assassin's name. It's wasn't a common name, but he felt like he had heard to before. But he couldn't place his finger on it. It left him even more puzzled then before. But when he heard that he was to be accepted into the group he completely forgot about it.

Devon nodded, looking between the assassin recruit and the to-be recruit. Ezio had a habit of being a bit too vague when he accepted new members into the assassin Order; she had a feeling she would be explaining a lot over the next short while.

The man nodded, hearing Drake's name, but said nothing else. He gave a slight wave at the other two. "I have other business to attend to, so make sure that everything is taken care of," he said before starting away down the road. Devon bowed again, then turned to the others.

"Well then," she said lightly, kneeling briefly to pick up Drake's sword, "I suppose that means we have the rest of the day to ourselves. This is yours?" She held the blade out to Drake.

His Master was gone just like that. Davicus would always watch as Ezio walked away, but it was never long before he lost sight of him in the crowd. It was amazing how he moved, like he slipped into the crowd as easily as water, and just like water the gap closed behind him.

Now it was back to business. The battle was over and they, well... Devon had to show this Drake guy what the Order was about. Davicus could probably have just gone ahead and left both of them here, but was curious about these two. He didn't know much about most of the assassins, so now was as good a time as any to learn more. "We should probably start moving. Someone is bound to come investigate sooner or later, better not to give them a chance." Davicus twisted his sleeve aroundto try and hide the blood from prying eyes.

Drake took his sword from Devon's hand with a short nod. "it's a piece of junk, but it defends me alright." He returned the dented sword to his side and raised a hand to wipe blood from a small cut on his face. He then turned his gaze to Davicus. This guy seemed a little different from the other two. Perhaps he was newer? He just wasn't sure.
And from her voice Drake could easily tell that the other assassin, Devon, was a girl after all. As he thought about it he felt another ping of reorganization. But his mind was too clouded with years of anger and living off the streets to remember much from his childhood. All he could easily remember was pain and suffering.
"I'm ready," he added quietly, not really sure if anyone cared.

Devon paused a brief second as she handed the sword back to Drake, studying him over the top of her glasses. Some flicker of emotion passed over her face, but it was quickly gone, and she straightened and turned away.

"Least you have some sense," she remarked to Davicus--was that his name? She thought so, at any rate. "Anyway, we aren't far from the hideout. Just try not to attract any more attention." She pulled her hood a little closer around her face and started out of the dead-end alley, casually walking along the side of the road to avoid attracting attention.

Davicus could feel his anger flaring at the comment. He nearly gave a retort but thought better of it at the last moment. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of him lashing out. They were supposed to be on the same side anyways. He took a breath to calm himself, letting the comment brush over him. Without another word to her he fell in step. Far enough to avoid attention, close enough to stay together.

He kept an eye on Drake. He obviously was at least a little confused. "Don't worry, it'll make a lot more sense in a few minutes. For now just stick close."

Drake nodded to Davicus and quickly fallowed after him, acting as casual as he could. The Devon chick seemed to be kinda mean. For a moment he thought about the fact that it would probably be better to not cross her, but then again... She was just a girl. He was pretty sure he could take her in a fight, even if he wasn't as trained as she was. He had plenty of experience fending for himself. This other guy, he seemed... Cocky. Kinda like himself. He figured they would get along pretty well.

((Drake's going to get his ass kicked at that rate. XD))

Devon couldn't help a slight smile. Sometimes the newer recruits understood the ribbing and didn't take offense. Davicus didn't seem to do so. Perhaps she would scale back her remarks to him. Slightly.

"I suppose now would be as good a time as ever to deal with questions," Devon said, keeping her gaze evenly ahead as they walked. She gently pushed past a man, who gave her an odd look but said nothing, without faltering in step. "You do understand what you've signed up for, right, Drake?"

"Shouldn't we wait till we're safely there before we do this? You don't know who might be listening out here." Davicus said, though he realized right afterwards that he had just second guessed her. "S...sorry." He muttered bitterly. He slipped between a small gap in the crowd, turning sideways to avoid disturbing anyone.His eyes flitted across the street, picking out anything he could to give him better awareness of the area. It was one of his first lessons, and he now used it anytime he was in the streets both as practice and in case something unexpected came up. It never hurt to be prepared.

"Kinda..." Drake admitted. He glanced back at Davicus, deciding to ignore him for the moment. Devon seemed to know what she was doing. "I have heard you guys called assassin's but some of the Borgia guards. And I figured we have the same goals, and I have nothing better to do." He spoke quiet enough for the two to hear him, but hopefully no one else. "I have figured out that your name is Devon. But who was the older guy?" And he cast Davicus a glance, "and you?"

"I can answer some basic questions," Devon replied with a wave in Davicus' direction. "No harm in that." Still, she had to admit that he was right. It wasn't likely that anyone would drop in on their conversation, but it wouldn't hurt if she were somewhat vague in her answers.

"As for the man," Devon continued, "he is our master, Ezio Auditore. He became the official leader of our order somewhat recently, but he has been a member for a much longer time than that. Since well before I officially joined, I know that much, but I'm not sure on specifics. Doesn't matter much, I guess."

"Davicus Selanir. Became an assassin when the Borgia executed my father. Joining just made sense to me." His fists clenched as he spoke. The pain was still fresh in his mind, though it was also what drove him.

Devon was probably right. A few words couldn't hurt. He was just being paranoid. Given that, there was no reason he shouldn't tell this Drake at least a little. "First thing to know about our Master is to never be on the wrong side of his blade. I've never seen someone escape from him alive without him allowing it. The second thing you should know is he wants to give Roma back to her people. That's as good a reason as any to follow him."

Drake listen quietly to both of them, inching around crowds of people, trying his best to not disturb them. He thought for a moment about his own family. If the assassin's were against the Borgia and anyone who allied with them, they probably knew his family name. Maybe not these tow, since it was 8 years since his family was murdered, but he was sure Ezio at least knew the name. Then why did he let him join so easily? Sure he was nothing like his family, but now could Ezio know that?
"So, what do you guys do exactly besides saving random people who like to piss off the Borgia?" He asked finally. "What will I be doing?"

Devon didn't immediately answer the question. It was another minute as she led the way down a staircase to a plain wooden door to a building that seemed no different than all the ones that surrounded it.

"You train," she said, opening the door to reveal another corridor with a set of stairs leading down into a large, decorated room. "And then we fight the Templars." Safely inside the hideout, Devon tossed back her hood to fully reveal her face and a ponytail of shoulder-length, mousy brown hair, and casually took the steps down into the main room.

The hideout wasn't what most would expect. Bookshelves lined the walls, and thick red carpets covered the clean floors. Red tapestries hung from the walls, depicting a silvery, somewhat triangular symbol. Other assassins, some in full garb and others dressed down, roamed through the room, disappearing into the rooms on the side or simply standing around, holding cheerful conversations and telling tales of their latest assignments. Devon briefly surveyed the room and, finding it to her satisfaction, smiled faintly.

"Ser Machiavelli isn't around, but we'll find him soon enough," she observed. "I'm sure we can handle not writing your name down for a few hours."

Davicus always enjoyed returning to the hall after a success. It was the closest thing he had to a home right now. "Welcome to the grand Sala Degli Assassini. Our base of operations." He spread his arms, gesturing to everything before him with a smile. Afterwards he also removed his hood and duster. He had a long scar across his left cheek and hazel eyes with a light green ring at the edge of the pupil.

"Now we'll have plenty of time for a question and answer session." He would let Devon give most of the answers, since she had been assigned to do it and probably knew more than him anyways. Davicus still planned on sticking around to give his own thoughts however. Didn't have much else to do at the moment besides clean his tunic off.

Drake looked around the room quietly for several minutes, taking it all in. He couldn't believe how clean this place looked. He had never been in a place so fancy. But then again, it wasn't all that fancy, he just hardly ever saw anything remotely fancy.
"Who is Machiavelli? I feel like I have heard that name before." He asked Devon, looking her over for a moment. He had another painful sting of familiarity.

"Politician, philosopher, tightass. I'm not sure what all he does outside the Order. For us, though, he is a head figure of the Assassins, and focuses a lot on strategy and gathering information. I don't speak with him much, really." Devon shrugged a bit. "He's a bit more popular in the courts, I think, than commoners. Regardless, he's valuable to us and what we do, which is the important part."

Devon sat down in a chair at a table, across which was spread a few books and ink pots around a large map of Rome. "We focus on much more than just the Borgia," she went on, looking over the map. "The Borgia are the focus now because they have been trying to take over Italy--primarily Cesare Borgia. His father, the current Pope, hasn't been nearly so problematic lately. I was younger during that, so I don't know much about it other than he has ties with the Templars, who are the bigger threat."

"I'm sure after you're signed up you won't hear much more from Machiavelli. He likes talk business with Ezio Auditore, but he rarely bothers himself with the underlings. Not that I've seen anyways." Davicus moved towards a different table, pouring himself a small glass of red wine before moving back to the others. Taking a seat near Devon he began sipping on the cup..

Drake chuckled lightly at Devon's remarks about Machiavelli. He sat down at the table as well. Then he seemed confused again, "okay I know I didn't finish school, but you guys make me feel really dumb. Who are the Templars?" He leaned forward a little bit and propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand. He wasn't sure if he could even soak all of this up so quickly, but he damn well sure had to try.

"The Templars are an organization who, as far as I can tell, have been fighting the Assassins since the beginning of recorded history, and probably before that," Devon replied, idly tracing a line on the map with the tip of her finger. "They seek control over humanity. Most believe that their ideals will bring peace to mankind, but their methods oppress the people and do more harm than good. So it's our job to stop them. And, of course, many just want power, such as Rodrigo Borgia. It's generally agreed that they need to be stopped."

Devon stopped her tracing for a moment. "This fight's been going on for generations," she continued. "My family was in the Order before I knew, and going back some centuries, there's one famed Assassin named Altair, and I'm sure there were many before him . . . This isn't something that's stopping soon."

Davicus smirked as Devon recited the story of the Templars. "I still haven't come across one Templar that was anything more than a power hungry bureaucrat surrounded by sycophants. Sure they claim to seek to control and all that, but when it comes down to it it is just each man for himself in a deadly game of power." He slid his dagger from his belt and began polishing the blade. "In the end aren't they just men that can be killed?"

"So basically you are telling me to train and work toward fighting off this greater evil, but that it will not be stopped from our doings or even in our lifetime?" Drake asked after a moment of thought. He paused, "welp. Sounds like fun to me." He smiled finally, his same smile that hadn't changed since he was a child. "Besides training is there anything else I need to know?"

"Yeah, most Templars have yet to actually prove me wrong," Devon said with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe one will be sane one day, but I doubt it would matter. As for the work, well, we might not be stopping it ourselves, but we're keeping it from getting worse. If the Assassins didn't exist, the Templars would have taken over ages ago and we'd all be worse off for it.

"As for anything else, I can't think of much," Devon finished. She screwed the lid back onto a pot of ink, trying to keep her hands busy. "Unless you have any other questions about anything. Ezio doesn't typically handle training--he's out of the hideout a lot--so I imagine an older Assassin will take over that. Me or Vincent or someone else . . . We do, however, shadow Ezio frequently. That's what we were doing today. Expect to be ready to help him in the city."

Davicus shrugged. "At least it is better than sitting back and letting them run the show." Although the knife was already in pristine condition, Davicus continued to run the oil cloth across it.. "It's nice to be able to actually get things done once in a while. Feels like the city has all but ground to a halt lately. Anyways, there is one other thing you might care about." Davicus gestured to Drake's sword. "That rusty old thing looks like it has seen better days. I take it a sword is your weapon of choice though? I'm pretty sure there is one lying around here somewhere you could use. It can't be worse anyways."

Drake was about to ask more about Devon's experiences and Davicus interrupted his train of thought. He looked down at his sword and shrugged lightly. "I don't know if I would consider it my weapon of choice, or just a matter of the only weapon I have been able to get my hands on."
He looked up from his sword to see a figure come up behind Devon. It was another assassin, so he didn't think much of it. The assassin placed a hand on the table, leaning on it lightly.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I thought I heard my name being spoken," He smiled in a charming voice. He was a tall and slender man, didn't seem like he had very much muscle on him at all. His robe was very plain compared to the others, seemingly old fashioned. He had slightly longer black hair with white spikes along the hair line on the left side, and long and flat bangs that hung over his right eye. Just a couple feet behind him stood a shorter assassin, with slightly more decorative robes and a board look on his face. He was more muscular then the first assassin and had brown messy hair.
"I'm sure if they were talking about you, they were talking about how much they hate you.." he told the taller assassin.

Devon looked up at the newcomers and laughed lightly. "Try as I might, I don't think I can actually hate you," she assured Vincent, giving her first real smile of the day. "No, I was just mentioning how some of us work on training younger recruits." She gestured lazily at Drake. "It probably goes without saying that we've recruited another. We're just waiting on Machiavelli at this point.

"As for weapons," she went on, looking back at Drake, "we do have a small armory for recruits. Ezio likes to keep his things on display in the next room over, but our things are separate. You'll be assigned some basic armor and a hidden blade a little later."

"Eh, whatever weapon you want, there's a good chance you'll find it. They aren't the finest metalwork Rome has to offer, but it seems to me the Borgia guards have kept us well stocked." Davicus looked up at the two older assassins as they approached. He was always a little nervous around any of the members that outranked him. Right now that meant just about everyone. Which also might explain why he only knew a handful of the other assassins.

It was rather obvious that the two were on good terms with the girl. "I'm sorry, you are? I don't think I've had a chance to meet either of you yet." He said, trying not to sound too awkward.

Vincent looked up at Drake, "Ezio is just taking everyone in now isn't he?" He joked for a moment before looking at Davicus.
"Well, if I had not trained you, who did? I am Vincent Dulius, and I have been an assassin for nearly 9 years now, but started training when I was only 7." Vincent straightened himself back up and took a short bow.
"And this is Ronnie D-"
"Last name doesn't matter..." Ronnie quickly interrupted his friend. Vincent just smiled and shook his head lightly. But he looked back to Drake again. "What is your name?"
"Drake Craven," he answered simply.

Vincent imminently lost his smile, "Craven you say?" he looked down at Devon. "Did Ezio hear his full name?"

Devon shook her head. "I didn't hear his full name until we were heading back here," she replied, "so I don't think Ezio ever did. I know there wasn't much good associated with his family, but I don't think we have to worry about him in particular. He always was kind of a pansy." She smiled--though it was probably more of a smirk--and propped her chin in the palm of her hand, her fingers curling over her lips and doing nothing to hide the expression. "If there does end up being a problem, I'm sure we can sort it out."

Davicus was a little bit lost by the conversation. He hadn't ever paid too much attention to the going ons in the city before becoming an assassin, so most of the points flew over his head. As long as he just listened he'd probably pick up on everything though. Then he wouldn't sound like a fool.

Another assassin approached the now crowded table. This one was older, with greying black hair. His garb was elegant, not as suited for combat as some of the other assassins. Devon, Vincent, and Ronnie all knew that he was Raegar, one of the oldest members of the order in Italy. He hadn't been a member his whole life however, and now primarily served as an adviser and diplomat, as well as taking care of organizing many of the assassins. "Devon, looks like you'll have your work cut out for you for a while. Il Maestro sent a pigeon. You're tasked with training and mentoring the new recruit. Not only that, but he also has put Davicus under your wing as well. He thinks you could show the boy a few things about handling himself on the streets." He tossed the parchment to Devon. "Looks like Ezio has taken a notice of you, you should be proud." He grinned, knowing that it also meant quite a lot of work on her part. "Good luck with them."

Davicus shook his head and sighed. Great, not only did she taunt him, now he was supposed to do whatever she said too.

"Excuse me, I have never been a pansy, nor will I ever be," Drake spat playfully, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched her smirk for a moment, his smile falling. He opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted by yet another assassin.
This one said that Devon was to train him and Davicus. It didn't seem like too much of a bad thing, but his thoughts were somewhere else.

Vincent smiled down at Devon, "well, that's a lot of responsibility, and if you would ever like some help I am willing to give you my time. And I think you might need it, I have heard a lot of talk about Davicus." The tall assassin smiled as he spoke though, he meant no harm by it. His partner, Ronnie, just rolled his eyes. Vincent was always getting them into things that he would just rather leave alone.

Devon snatched the parchment out of the air and read it over. Raegar had no reason to lie about the matter, but she wanted to be certain--and there it was, in Ezio's scrawl. Devon had to suppress a new, excited grin; she hadn't ever been given that much official responsibility before. She had to be promoted to official Assassin status soon.

"I should be alright," she said lightly to Vincent. "Have to balance it with whatever else he wants me to do, but it should be fine." She flashed a smile at Davicus. "And don't worry, I don't actually hate you. You'll be fine."

Davicus sighed. "Ah, what a relief. Here I thought I'd have to keep an eye open while I sleep. I suppose it could be worse at any rate. Just make sure to do your job right. Seems like everyone here thinks I'm something of a joke." He shook his head, turning away from the group. The last few seconds had definitely done a number on his ego.

Raegar smiled when he saw her excitement. It was nice to see the enthusiasm in the younger members of the order. He just needed to make sure the enthusiasm was used correctly. "Just don't let it go to your head. You certainly are no master assassin yet." He said jokingly. In a more serious tone he continued. "Just make sure you are ready for this. The beginning is always one of the most crucial parts of training. Teaching a man to kill does not make him an assassin. Teach him to understand the balance of life and death and why our actions are necessary... that is what makes an assassin. Too many have faltered from our path. It is now up to you to make sure that neither of these two do." He paused for a moment, his face dark. "But don't let me ruin your moment. Enjoy it. For now the newest recruit will need to stay in the sanctuary. Machievelli will be back within a few hours to deal with the ledgers. Until then do whatever you see fit. I've got business to attend to in the mean time." He gave her a small bow before turning to leave. "Vittori agli assassini."

Drake was quiet for a long moment as the other spoke with each other. He was thinking back to his childhood, something he never wanted to do. Then suddenly he looked up from the spot he had been staring at as if he had a sudden realization.
"Devon? Devon Colter? The little girl who lived down the street from me and then moved away?" He asked, looking straight at Devon.

Vincent grew silent, waiting and wondering what Devon would respond with. He often had long conversations with Devon, but never about her childhood. It sometimes just seemed like they were the only two with a real understanding for things.





((That was the only last name I could remember for Devon, I wasn't sure if you were using that one or some other one. I will change it if need be. XD ))

Devon's expression sobered, her excitement tempered by Raegar's warning. Certainly she knew all of that--thought she admittedly wasn't thinking about that first.

"Of course," she said, before dipping her head in respect. "Thank you. Vittori agli assassini."

Once the older assassin had left, Devon let herself relax again, leaning back a bit in her chair. Her mind was reeling already. She had a lot to do. She would have to start planning how to train Drake to fight, not to mention stealth, free-running, the creed itself and everything else Raegar had mentioned . . . plus whatever Davicus needed.

Drake's question snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked back at him with half a smile. "I was wondering when you'd catch on," she said. "I'm not so little, but yes, that'd be me."

((The name's fine. I've thought off and on about changing it, but never actually have, so that'll do.))

Davicus quirked an eyebrow as the two of them. Apparently they knew each other as kids. Well, this was probably gonna get weird for him fast. He didn't care as long as Drake wasn't getting any special treatment because of it. He was still curious as to how it would turn out though, so he listened in. The older assassins were seemed to be doing the same.

Drake smiled widely, "Sorry it's been a long time. How did you get mixed up in this stuff?" He said happily. It was nice to see an old friend, one that he had missed dearly. "Is this what you have been doing since you moved away. We were what- ten years old when you left?"

Vincent smiled as he watched Drake. Just a moment ago he seemed tired and like he didn't have much to live for. And suddenly the boys blue eyes were bright and happy and he was smiling. He figured it was time to dismiss himself from the conversation. He placed a hand on Devon's shoulder, "let me know if you would ever like my help." He said softly before turning to leave with Ronnie.