paradisa

[ It's a gamble, making an invitation in this journal. An Assassin usually doesn't risk such exposure. With what he has planned, Altaïr will be risking more than just a meeting with a well-armed man in white robes. His words are careful, almost contemplative, but deliberate as a blade. ]

Safety and peace, Paradisa.

I am sure you have noticed that this land is capable of neither. [ an understatement. ] I have seen that many of you cannot avoid a fight or defend yourselves. I cannot teach you how to ward magic, but I do have some skill in the art of movement and of the blade.

We will blend with the crowd, use rooftops to move about, and spar with knives and swords if you have them. Anyone of any skill may come and learn something of worth. And for those of you who already have exceptional skill, I hope you will join me in teaching. We are trapped here together, and knowledge is nothing if it cannot be passed on.

I will be in the city's craftsmen district on the first, second, and third of next month. Look for the man in the white hood. Have you any questions?

[ ooc: This post is for questions. Open log is here! ]

theflyingone

[ Magic books are completely outside Altaïr's 12th century realm of understanding. Only recently did he witness what he could only describe as sorcery, strange powers from an ancient artifact. Even this he met with skepticism, for it could simply be science unexplained.

He's posed as a scholar on multiple occasions, a seeker of knowledge. Really he is an Assassin, a killer with questions. Asking around will not arouse suspicion as long as he's careful. Before he can try to find a way to escape this land, he needs information. ]

I have seen my fellow captives use this book to send letters. I hear these messages can be made secret. Show me how.

[ This place tests his patience and his pride, but he has to start somewhere. ]

ooc: Anyone who has seen his handwriting is free to recognize it. Most others will simply see the (translated) antiquated Arabic script of a learned man, written in ink and reed pen.

aviarius

[ (clearly backdated to an earlier, not insane, time of the day)

Oh look who is visiting the castle today? It's a totally inconspicuous hooded man! Although he doesn't look all that pleased to be here, were it up to him he wouldn't have come however his loss drives him to such things. Paradisa is callous in it's prices.

He lingers in the lobby, deciding his next move. Whatever he is to do should be quick before the polished floor beneath his feet becomes his new best friend. ]

(ooc; bluh bluh open, please come bother him.)

aviarius

( private )

aviarius

[ It's been too long, he's spent far too much time hidden away, staring into golden lights. He can clearly hear Malik's disapproval, his demands that he destroy the cursed object, or at the very least put it away and get some air. And food.

He does as the phantom demands, putting the object away hiding it from sight. (Into a place only he knows.) He goes outside too, collecting his journal from the counter as he passes by and settles himself on the nest of cushions placed nicely in the corner of the small courtyard.

Though it does little to help the creeping pain in his head, it would certainly appease his friend... temporarily.

Once comfortable he flicks through the journal. He wonders what the castle at large is up to today. ]

We fall into previous habits without pause, as if we never left. [ Altaïr has his doubts about his leaving in the first place. He can no longer be sure if he truly did or not. ] And Paradisa remains still, even as the seasons change.

( ooc; guess what? this is open both via the journal and in person, if any roof climbers feel like stumbling upon the buearu roof in the city. the hatch is currently open and grumpy pants assassin is visible down below. )

aviarius

It has been two whole seasons. [ Seven months, it feels odd. From the outside Paradisa does not appear to have changed much since he last saw it. Weather aside. ]

I assume much has happened in my absence. [ He has already started reading through the journal, a relatively slow process, he is taking his time. Though there is something that grabbed his attention instantly, something that made him frown something fierce. ]

Including an event in which something that struck the castle some weeks ago, shortly before the flood that brought you all to Unova. [ He turns a page as the soft sound of wind chimes clink in the background. ] I want to know about it, if anyone reading this has any information pertaining that it and is willing to share, it would be greatly appreciated.

[ He needs to know. To silence his concerns and fears. ]

aviarius

I remember everything. [ One would think this would be cause for celebration perhaps, but he sounds everything but happy. His tone is even but cold, tell tale signs of anger more than obvious in his voice. ]

I remember Paradisa and how I should not be able remember it. [ If only Paradisa had a face. If only. ] Tell me, why is it I am here and not within the walls of Masyaf? Or is this another question that is doomed to be unanswered?

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
				1	2	3
4	5	6	7	8	9	10
11	12	13	14	15	16	17
18	19	20	21	22	23	24
25	26	27	28	29	30	31

journal posts

Entries tagged with altaïr ibn-la'ahad

[dictated] Perhaps you can show them what you know.

[written] Surely I have failed in some spectacular fashion.

0 0 5

0 0 4

0 0 3

0 0 2

0 0 1

Profile

January 2015

Links