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Description
March 25, 1814; New Orleans, Louisiana

Connor,

I'm afraid trouble is brewing around here, and I feel as though I will need your help once more. That Templar that we have been hunting for a while now, Andrew Jackson, has been marching his forces ever so closer to New Orleans every day, destroying the Native peoples that stand in his way. Some tribes have been allying themselves with his men, but they only delay the inevitable. Jackson eventually slaughters them as well. He seeks to claim these territories for the Templars, and I fear he may succeed if we don't act soon. I request that either you travel here or you send an agent or two of yours to help work out a plan of attack. Thank you so much for your assistance, my friend.

Your friend,
Aveline Blanc

------------

Aveza and Arnold arrived in New Orleans about a week after Connor received the letter and sent them to meet with Aveline Blanc, the Assassins’ mentor in the southern half of North America. Along the way, Aveza had asked Arnold about her. Arnold told her that he only had a few encounters with her personally, but he'd certainly heard plenty of stories. Born Aveline de Grandpré, she and the Assassins worked to do all they could to free the hundreds of slaves held by the rich Louisiana colonists back in the 1760s and 70s. After cutting down Templar dogs and corrupted Assassins, she had eventually risen to the rank of mentor. And nowadays she worked with her husband, Gérald, to lead the Brotherhood in the southern half of the continent.

When Aveza and Arnold finally arrived in the humid city, they were greeted by a middle-aged woman in a jacket and a sash and a bandana around her head. A shining charm hung on the necklace around her neck. She had an untrusting look on her face when she first approached them, but after looking them up and down, a welcoming grin replaced her original expression. She said nothing though. Aveza and Arnold looked at each other, then back at her.

“Um… hello,” said Aveza. The woman said nothing.

“Um… okay. Um… My name is-”

“Aveza Deryn, from York,” the woman said.

Aveza looked surprised. “Er… yes,” she said. “And this is my good friend-”

“Arnold Bellamy, from London,” the woman said again before either could finish. Aveza and Arnold looked at each other.

“Er… yes,” said Arnold.

The woman smiled wider and shook their hands hard. “Welcome, brothers,” she said. “My name is Patience Gibbs. Mr. and Mrs. Blanc sent me to meet with you.”

Suddenly it made sense. “Ah,” said Aveza. “So they told you our names then. Gotchya.”

But Patience shook her head. “No,” she said, still grinning. “They didn't give me any names. They just told me to come greet two Assassins at the city entrance.”

Confusion returned to Aveza and Arnold.

“Then how did you-?”

“Know your names? The same way I know most of the things I know.” She reached for her charm, and lifted it for the two to see. Aveza looked at it, at first not noticing anything special about it. But then she saw the engravings etched into the gold half of it. They were the same style as the engravings on the walls of the Temple of the Angels. For a moment, Aveza reasoned that this could be her key, but she soon realized that it was too small and not the right shape. Drat.

Still, she was curious. “Is that-?”

“A Piece of Eden?” said Patience. “Yes indeed. An old family heirloom.”

“What does it do?” asked Arnold.

“It allows me to see ahead.”

“You mean, like see the future?”

“Yes. But only for brief spurts, and I can only see a second or two ahead.”

“That seems-”

“Rather useless? Believe me, my friend. It's usefulness shines when I use it in a fight.”

Aveza and Arnold looked at each other and shrugged. They'd always heard stories of the Pieces of Eden, tales of objects capable of annihilating entire cities in the blink of an eye if used the right way. But this thing, this thing seemed rather unimpressive, relatively speaking. It seemed like the Precursor equivalent of a child's toy. To be fair though, it was interesting for what it was.

“So,” Aveza said to Patience. “Where are-?”

“The Assassin base is not far from here,” Patience interrupted. Aveza was beginning to get a bit annoyed. But Patience just smiled, and she motioned for them to follow her. “This way,” she said. And they set off.

Eventually, they came to a large warehouse on the southwest side of town. It was an old, rickety building, one that the general population wouldn't give much mind to. Perfect for an Assassin base. Patience led them up to the door, and knocked. A few moments later, it opened up to reveal an old man behind it.

“Ah! Patience!” he said welcomingly. “I see you've-”

“Arrived with our guests from up north,” Patience said.

“Eh… oui. Er… well, I can take it from here. If you'd like, you could-”

“Check out the pigeon coop and see if we received any contacts? Sure thing.”

She turned to Aveza and Arnold and nodded goodbye, then did the same with the old man before leaving the three to themselves. Aveza turned to the old man. “Do you ever get sick of that?” she asked. The old man just shrugged.

“Eh, you get used to it after a while,” he said. “Anyways, where are my manners? Bonjour to you both. My name is Gérald Blanc.”

“Aveza Deryn, from York.”

“Arnold Bellamy, from London.”

They shook Gérald’s hand and he motioned for them to follow him inside the warehouse. Aveza and Arnold looked around at the interior. It was old and worn, but still stable. A few workers were cleaning up and fixing up the walls a bit. As the Assassins walked upstairs, they noticed that the upper floor was nicer, but still clearly in need of renovation. The paint on the walls was chipped, and the furniture had seen better years. But despite that, the environment was still hospitable. It was a decent living space.

Gérald led them into another room. He knocked on the doorframe as he entered and addressed the old woman that was sitting at the desk, buried in her books.

“Aveline,” he said, “Our guests from the Davenport Homestead have arrived.”

The woman named Aveline looked up from her book and smiled. She stood to greet them. She shook Aveza's and Arnold’s hands. “Bonjour,” she said kindly. “Thank you both for coming on such short notice. My name is Aveline Blanc, the mentor of the southern Assassins.”

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Aveza Deryn,” said Aveza.

“And I'm Arnold Bellamy,” said Arnold.

“Ah yes,” said Aveza. “Connor's told me a lot about you two.”

Aveza looked over Aveline. She was old, probably in her mid-sixties. Her hair was grey with dyed patches of red. She wore a flashy dress and a feathered hat to match. Her smile was young, but her eyes were old.

“Well, I'm glad you two were able to come when you did,” continued Aveline. “We've been getting reports that the Templars are making their move toward the south.”

“Andrew Jackson,” said Aveza.

Aveline nodded. “Yes, he's been marching his men this direction for weeks now, and he's been slaughtering anyone who gets in his way. We've been trying to halt his progress, but we've only managed to slow him down.”

She reached over and grabbed a document off her desk. She showed it to Aveza. “One of our brothers, a Creek warrior named Menawa, has been massing his men in the Mississippi Territory, preparing for an attack that they believe Jackson will make.”

“And you want us to go help?” said Aveza.

“Oui. Menawa could use all the help he can get. Unfortunately, we're a bit short on men. That's why we needed to ask Connor to send some of his own.”

“Sounds like a mission we'd be glad to accept,” said Arnold.

“Indeed. I've personally been waiting for the chance to get a sense of Andrew Jackson's threat level.”

Aveline smiled and nodded. “Merci,” she said. She pulled over another document with coordinates on it and passed it to the two. “Menawa and his men are stationed here. If I were you, I'd start riding there as fast as possible. If his word is anything to go by, Jackson is approaching fast.”

Aveza and Arnold nodded. “Will get there as soon as we can,” said Aveza. “You can count on us.”

Aveline thanked them again, as did Gérald. The four said their goodbyes, and then Aveza and Arnold left the warehouse and started making their way to the Mississippi Territory.

------------

March 27, 1814; Horseshoe Bend, Mississippi Territory

By the time Aveza and Arnold arrived at the coordinates they were given, they found that Menawa’s men were already fighting a hard fight against the thousands of American soldiers that were circling in around their barricades. The two didn't waste anytime. They quickly started stealthing their way behind the trees of the battlefield in order to keep out of the soldiers’ line of sight, and they inched their way towards the trapped Natives.

As they moved, Aveza caught sight of Andrew Jackson, who was up on his horse, commanding his men.

“Carry on, men!” he shouted across the battlefield. “Break their barriers! Show those resilient savages that we are their betters! Our people need land, and this land needs to be cleared of these pests if we are to settle! Carry on!”

Aveza scowled. She wished she had a better shot at him. She kept heading towards the Natives with Arnold.

They eventually arrived, and they climbed over the barricades that Menawa’s men had built in defense. They quickly got to work on finding their fellow Assassin.

They eventually did find him, and they approached him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Friends,” said Aveza. “Aveline sent us.”

“Oh, thank goodness! We need all the assistance we can get! Jackson's men are going to break through if we don't act fast!”

“What would you have us do?”

“Help my men keep our barricades in tact. If we lose those, we lose everything.”

Aveza and Arnold nodded and they sprinted to the nearest barricade. Bullets slammed against the exterior, tearing off shards of wood. The Natives and the Assassins hurried to replace what had been lost. They kept switching from barricade to barricade, trying desperately to keep the invaders out. But it seemed like things were being destroyed faster than things were getting fixed. Aveza turned to look behind her, and saw that the Americans were starting to break through. Blood was already beginning to spill.

She gasped. She turned to Arnold. “Stay here and keep building up the barrier!” she said as she started running towards the fight. Arnold nodded as she left.

Aveza pulled out her tomahawk and rushed to Menawa’s side. The two Assassins stood tall with the Natives as the Americans broke through, bayonets raised. The fight began.

Aveza lunged onto the nearest soldier and chopped his chest. She spun around just in time to block a blow from a bayonet and end its owner's life.

Meanwhile, Menawa had spun around and killed two soldiers in one attack. A few soldiers tried to fire their muskets at him, but just before they shot, he grabbed another soldier and used him as a human shield.

The same happened with Aveza, and both Assassins quickly fell the soldiers while they were reloading their rifles. The fight kept going, and they were starting to get overwhelmed. But they kept going. They couldn't let the Templars win.

Suddenly, a man on a horse came charging into the fight, sword raised and ready to strike Menawa. Aveza acted fast and pushed her ally out of the way of the blow.

“Thank you, my friend,” he said.

“Don't mention it.”

Aveza turned. The horseman was making another charge, this time at her. She quickly drew her sword, leapt out of the way, and sliced the horse as it passed, causing the rider to fall to the ground. As he got to his feet, Aveza looked at his face and gasped as she recognized him as Andrew Jackson. Jackson stood up and frowned at Aveza. She scowled back. They both raised their swords, and clashed.

“So,” said Jackson. “I take it you're the Assassin that's been causing all this trouble for my order. Aveza, was it?”

“Bugger off.”

“A bit too cultured a voice for a savage, isn't it?”

They clashed again.

“We're not savages you bloody mongrel!” said Aveza.

“Please,” said Jackson. “You live in the dirt like animals. You lack any of the structure and order that we civilized people have.”

“We do have order. Our order comes from freedom and justice. Not like yours, which comes from tyranny and oppression!”

Their blades sparked again. “We are the guardians of the free world!” said Jackson.

Aveza laughed. “Please,” she said.

“These United States are built on the idea of the free individual.”

“Provided they're white and male and rich, is that right?”

“Power falls into those who are worthy to grasp it. And we are there to be those who are worthy. We are the guiding hand of humanity!”

“Humanity doesn't need a guiding hand! Look at what you're power-trip has wrought on the world! War! Poverty! Tyranny!”

“All sacrifices that need to be made to keep order.”

“For someone who loves to spout about freedom, you sure do a bloody good job at spitting in its face!”

“Enough!”

They clashed a few more times. Sparks flew as the metal clanged. Aveza hit Jackson with the handle of her sword, and kicked him back a few yards. She was about to charge at him and try to deliver a killing blow, but she suddenly heard Menawa shout behind her.

“Help!” he shouted. Aveza turned and saw that he had been badly wounded, and that three soldiers were coming at him. She thought fast. She had to make a choice. She looked over at Jackson, and the hundreds of advancing soldiers behind him. Then she looked at Menawa, who'd be dead in a few moments if she didn't act fast. She swore under her breath, and made her decision. She sprinted towards the soldiers, tomahawk raised. They fell in moments, but not before landing a few shots on Menawa, who dropped to his knees. Aveza rushed to his side as the soldiers kept coming.

“Are you okay to move?” she asked.

Menawa winced in pain. “I… ow… I think…”

Suddenly, Arnold rushed up to them, his sword drawn and blood-soaked.

“Aveza,” he frantically said, “the Americans have completely broken through! As much as I hate to say it, this battle is lost. We have to evacuate all the Natives we can and leave.”

“But Jackson-”

“Can wait. We'll get him eventually, I promise. But we can't do that if we're dead. We have to go.”

“He's right, my friend,” Menawa struggled to say. Aveza swore again. She knew they were right.

“Fine,” she said sadly. “Help me carry Menawa, Arnold. Let's go.”

Arnold nodded and helped lift up their fellow Assassin. The two made their way as fast as they could off the battlefield, guiding away as many as their allies as they could. Aveza quickly looked back at Jackson with a heavy heart. She wished she'd have been able to kill him and end his reign.

------------

Aveza and Arnold stood up on a hill that overlooked the former battlefield. Their Native allies ran past them and escaped into the woods, while Menawa sat behind them covered in makeshift bandages. Aveza and Arnold looked down at the scene below, and the horror that plagued it.

The Americans began to slaughter all the Natives that remained after the fight. They gathered them all up and either tied them up or shot their ankles to keep them from escaping. Some of the Natives were lucky enough to be killed before the actual slaughter, but most weren't. Others were forced to experience the torture alive.

Aveza kept her eyes on Jackson, who seemed to be doing the worst out of all his men. Some Natives he just decided to shoot or stab, in such a way that they'd die slowly and painfully. He started skinning others, and encouraged his men to do the same. They gathered up the torn flesh and started making clothing and jewelry out of it. It was a gruesome, gruesome scene, and it terrified Aveza. It was true what she heard, Jackson was ruthless. She'd never seen a more despicable man. He kept torturing their prisoners in new, horrible ways. And as he did it, he had that same evil smile on his face. He was enjoying it. Aveza thought she was going to throw up. She felt like crying. Arnold saw her pain and hugged her tight. Neither said anything, they just watched in horror before eventually it became too much and they turned to leave with Menawa.

------------

March 30, 1814; New Orleans, Louisiana

Gérald entered the room and closed the door. He turned to the other three Assassins in the room. “I've gotten one of our medics to properly attend to Menawa’s wounds. He should be fine.”

The other three said nothing. Aveline and Arnold just kept their eyes on Aveza, who had her face buried in her hands. Arnold held her and gently rubbed her arm to comfort her.

“It'll be okay, my dear,” he eventually said to break the silence. Aveza slowly lifted her head to look at him, her face full of despair.

“No it won't,” she said, just on the verge of tears. “As long as the Templars are still out there, they'll just keep coming back. They'll keep coming back and they'll keep destroying everything. Things aren't going to be okay until dogs like Jackson and Harrison have blades sticking out out their hearts.”

Arnold said nothing. He just hugged her.

“We will get them eventually,” Aveline eventually said. “That's what we do. We stop Templars. It may take days, it may take decades, but our enemies will fall. You have to believe that, Aveza. You have to stay strong. Because if we don't stay strong, then that just lets the Templars bully us further.”

Aveza said nothing. She stayed in her position. Arnold exchanged sad looks with Aveline and Gérald.

“I think it's probably best that we head back to the Homestead,” said Arnold. The other two nodded understandingly. Arnold nodded and helped Aveza up. Arnold grabbed their bags and led them to the door. He silently thanked Aveline and Gérald with a nod. The others returned the nod and then Arnold and Aveza left the warehouse. He led them to a horse and they both hopped on. Arnold grabbed the reins and began to ride them out of New Orleans and back to the Homestead.

As Aveza hugged him from behind as they rode, all she could think about was what she would do to all of the Templars that crossed her path. She thought of all the ways she could get back at them. Little did she know, her chance would come soon.

Description
March 25, 1814; New Orleans, Louisiana

Connor,

I'm afraid trouble is brewing around here, and I feel as though I will need your help once more. That Templar that we have been hunting for a while now, Andrew Jackson, has been marching his forces ever so closer to New Orleans every day, destroying the Native peoples that stand in his way. Some tribes have been allying themselves with his men, but they only delay the inevitable. Jackson eventually slaughters them as well. He seeks to claim these territories for the Templars, and I fear he may succeed if we don't act soon. I request that either you travel here or you send an agent or two of yours to help work out a plan of attack. Thank you so much for your assistance, my friend.

Your friend,
Aveline Blanc

------------

Aveza and Arnold arrived in New Orleans about a week after Connor received the letter and sent them to meet with Aveline Blanc, the Assassins’ mentor in the southern half of North America. Along the way, Aveza had asked Arnold about her. Arnold told her that he only had a few encounters with her personally, but he'd certainly heard plenty of stories. Born Aveline de Grandpré, she and the Assassins worked to do all they could to free the hundreds of slaves held by the rich Louisiana colonists back in the 1760s and 70s. After cutting down Templar dogs and corrupted Assassins, she had eventually risen to the rank of mentor. And nowadays she worked with her husband, Gérald, to lead the Brotherhood in the southern half of the continent.

When Aveza and Arnold finally arrived in the humid city, they were greeted by a middle-aged woman in a jacket and a sash and a bandana around her head. A shining charm hung on the necklace around her neck. She had an untrusting look on her face when she first approached them, but after looking them up and down, a welcoming grin replaced her original expression. She said nothing though. Aveza and Arnold looked at each other, then back at her.

“Um… hello,” said Aveza. The woman said nothing.

“Um… okay. Um… My name is-”

“Aveza Deryn, from York,” the woman said.

Aveza looked surprised. “Er… yes,” she said. “And this is my good friend-”

“Arnold Bellamy, from London,” the woman said again before either could finish. Aveza and Arnold looked at each other.

“Er… yes,” said Arnold.

The woman smiled wider and shook their hands hard. “Welcome, brothers,” she said. “My name is Patience Gibbs. Mr. and Mrs. Blanc sent me to meet with you.”

Suddenly it made sense. “Ah,” said Aveza. “So they told you our names then. Gotchya.”

But Patience shook her head. “No,” she said, still grinning. “They didn't give me any names. They just told me to come greet two Assassins at the city entrance.”

Confusion returned to Aveza and Arnold.

“Then how did you-?”

“Know your names? The same way I know most of the things I know.” She reached for her charm, and lifted it for the two to see. Aveza looked at it, at first not noticing anything special about it. But then she saw the engravings etched into the gold half of it. They were the same style as the engravings on the walls of the Temple of the Angels. For a moment, Aveza reasoned that this could be her key, but she soon realized that it was too small and not the right shape. Drat.

Still, she was curious. “Is that-?”

“A Piece of Eden?” said Patience. “Yes indeed. An old family heirloom.”

“What does it do?” asked Arnold.

“It allows me to see ahead.”

“You mean, like see the future?”

“Yes. But only for brief spurts, and I can only see a second or two ahead.”

“That seems-”

“Rather useless? Believe me, my friend. It's usefulness shines when I use it in a fight.”

Aveza and Arnold looked at each other and shrugged. They'd always heard stories of the Pieces of Eden, tales of objects capable of annihilating entire cities in the blink of an eye if used the right way. But this thing, this thing seemed rather unimpressive, relatively speaking. It seemed like the Precursor equivalent of a child's toy. To be fair though, it was interesting for what it was.

“So,” Aveza said to Patience. “Where are-?”

“The Assassin base is not far from here,” Patience interrupted. Aveza was beginning to get a bit annoyed. But Patience just smiled, and she motioned for them to follow her. “This way,” she said. And they set off.

Eventually, they came to a large warehouse on the southwest side of town. It was an old, rickety building, one that the general population wouldn't give much mind to. Perfect for an Assassin base. Patience led them up to the door, and knocked. A few moments later, it opened up to reveal an old man behind it.

“Ah! Patience!” he said welcomingly. “I see you've-”

“Arrived with our guests from up north,” Patience said.

“Eh… oui. Er… well, I can take it from here. If you'd like, you could-”

“Check out the pigeon coop and see if we received any contacts? Sure thing.”

She turned to Aveza and Arnold and nodded goodbye, then did the same with the old man before leaving the three to themselves. Aveza turned to the old man. “Do you ever get sick of that?” she asked. The old man just shrugged.

“Eh, you get used to it after a while,” he said. “Anyways, where are my manners? Bonjour to you both. My name is Gérald Blanc.”

“Aveza Deryn, from York.”

“Arnold Bellamy, from London.”

They shook Gérald’s hand and he motioned for them to follow him inside the warehouse. Aveza and Arnold looked around at the interior. It was old and worn, but still stable. A few workers were cleaning up and fixing up the walls a bit. As the Assassins walked upstairs, they noticed that the upper floor was nicer, but still clearly in need of renovation. The paint on the walls was chipped, and the furniture had seen better years. But despite that, the environment was still hospitable. It was a decent living space.

Gérald led them into another room. He knocked on the doorframe as he entered and addressed the old woman that was sitting at the desk, buried in her books.

“Aveline,” he said, “Our guests from the Davenport Homestead have arrived.”

The woman named Aveline looked up from her book and smiled. She stood to greet them. She shook Aveza's and Arnold’s hands. “Bonjour,” she said kindly. “Thank you both for coming on such short notice. My name is Aveline Blanc, the mentor of the southern Assassins.”

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Aveza Deryn,” said Aveza.

“And I'm Arnold Bellamy,” said Arnold.

“Ah yes,” said Aveza. “Connor's told me a lot about you two.”

Aveza looked over Aveline. She was old, probably in her mid-sixties. Her hair was grey with dyed patches of red. She wore a flashy dress and a feathered hat to match. Her smile was young, but her eyes were old.

“Well, I'm glad you two were able to come when you did,” continued Aveline. “We've been getting reports that the Templars are making their move toward the south.”

“Andrew Jackson,” said Aveza.

Aveline nodded. “Yes, he's been marching his men this direction for weeks now, and he's been slaughtering anyone who gets in his way. We've been trying to halt his progress, but we've only managed to slow him down.”

She reached over and grabbed a document off her desk. She showed it to Aveza. “One of our brothers, a Creek warrior named Menawa, has been massing his men in the Mississippi Territory, preparing for an attack that they believe Jackson will make.”

“And you want us to go help?” said Aveza.

“Oui. Menawa could use all the help he can get. Unfortunately, we're a bit short on men. That's why we needed to ask Connor to send some of his own.”

“Sounds like a mission we'd be glad to accept,” said Arnold.

“Indeed. I've personally been waiting for the chance to get a sense of Andrew Jackson's threat level.”

Aveline smiled and nodded. “Merci,” she said. She pulled over another document with coordinates on it and passed it to the two. “Menawa and his men are stationed here. If I were you, I'd start riding there as fast as possible. If his word is anything to go by, Jackson is approaching fast.”

Aveza and Arnold nodded. “Will get there as soon as we can,” said Aveza. “You can count on us.”

Aveline thanked them again, as did Gérald. The four said their goodbyes, and then Aveza and Arnold left the warehouse and started making their way to the Mississippi Territory.

------------

March 27, 1814; Horseshoe Bend, Mississippi Territory

By the time Aveza and Arnold arrived at the coordinates they were given, they found that Menawa’s men were already fighting a hard fight against the thousands of American soldiers that were circling in around their barricades. The two didn't waste anytime. They quickly started stealthing their way behind the trees of the battlefield in order to keep out of the soldiers’ line of sight, and they inched their way towards the trapped Natives.

As they moved, Aveza caught sight of Andrew Jackson, who was up on his horse, commanding his men.

“Carry on, men!” he shouted across the battlefield. “Break their barriers! Show those resilient savages that we are their betters! Our people need land, and this land needs to be cleared of these pests if we are to settle! Carry on!”

Aveza scowled. She wished she had a better shot at him. She kept heading towards the Natives with Arnold.

They eventually arrived, and they climbed over the barricades that Menawa’s men had built in defense. They quickly got to work on finding their fellow Assassin.

They eventually did find him, and they approached him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Friends,” said Aveza. “Aveline sent us.”

“Oh, thank goodness! We need all the assistance we can get! Jackson's men are going to break through if we don't act fast!”

“What would you have us do?”

“Help my men keep our barricades in tact. If we lose those, we lose everything.”

Aveza and Arnold nodded and they sprinted to the nearest barricade. Bullets slammed against the exterior, tearing off shards of wood. The Natives and the Assassins hurried to replace what had been lost. They kept switching from barricade to barricade, trying desperately to keep the invaders out. But it seemed like things were being destroyed faster than things were getting fixed. Aveza turned to look behind her, and saw that the Americans were starting to break through. Blood was already beginning to spill.

She gasped. She turned to Arnold. “Stay here and keep building up the barrier!” she said as she started running towards the fight. Arnold nodded as she left.

Aveza pulled out her tomahawk and rushed to Menawa’s side. The two Assassins stood tall with the Natives as the Americans broke through, bayonets raised. The fight began.

Aveza lunged onto the nearest soldier and chopped his chest. She spun around just in time to block a blow from a bayonet and end its owner's life.

Meanwhile, Menawa had spun around and killed two soldiers in one attack. A few soldiers tried to fire their muskets at him, but just before they shot, he grabbed another soldier and used him as a human shield.

The same happened with Aveza, and both Assassins quickly fell the soldiers while they were reloading their rifles. The fight kept going, and they were starting to get overwhelmed. But they kept going. They couldn't let the Templars win.

Suddenly, a man on a horse came charging into the fight, sword raised and ready to strike Menawa. Aveza acted fast and pushed her ally out of the way of the blow.

“Thank you, my friend,” he said.

“Don't mention it.”

Aveza turned. The horseman was making another charge, this time at her. She quickly drew her sword, leapt out of the way, and sliced the horse as it passed, causing the rider to fall to the ground. As he got to his feet, Aveza looked at his face and gasped as she recognized him as Andrew Jackson. Jackson stood up and frowned at Aveza. She scowled back. They both raised their swords, and clashed.

“So,” said Jackson. “I take it you're the Assassin that's been causing all this trouble for my order. Aveza, was it?”

“Bugger off.”

“A bit too cultured a voice for a savage, isn't it?”

They clashed again.

“We're not savages you bloody mongrel!” said Aveza.

“Please,” said Jackson. “You live in the dirt like animals. You lack any of the structure and order that we civilized people have.”

“We do have order. Our order comes from freedom and justice. Not like yours, which comes from tyranny and oppression!”

Their blades sparked again. “We are the guardians of the free world!” said Jackson.

Aveza laughed. “Please,” she said.

“These United States are built on the idea of the free individual.”

“Provided they're white and male and rich, is that right?”

“Power falls into those who are worthy to grasp it. And we are there to be those who are worthy. We are the guiding hand of humanity!”

“Humanity doesn't need a guiding hand! Look at what you're power-trip has wrought on the world! War! Poverty! Tyranny!”

“All sacrifices that need to be made to keep order.”

“For someone who loves to spout about freedom, you sure do a bloody good job at spitting in its face!”

“Enough!”

They clashed a few more times. Sparks flew as the metal clanged. Aveza hit Jackson with the handle of her sword, and kicked him back a few yards. She was about to charge at him and try to deliver a killing blow, but she suddenly heard Menawa shout behind her.

“Help!” he shouted. Aveza turned and saw that he had been badly wounded, and that three soldiers were coming at him. She thought fast. She had to make a choice. She looked over at Jackson, and the hundreds of advancing soldiers behind him. Then she looked at Menawa, who'd be dead in a few moments if she didn't act fast. She swore under her breath, and made her decision. She sprinted towards the soldiers, tomahawk raised. They fell in moments, but not before landing a few shots on Menawa, who dropped to his knees. Aveza rushed to his side as the soldiers kept coming.

“Are you okay to move?” she asked.

Menawa winced in pain. “I… ow… I think…”

Suddenly, Arnold rushed up to them, his sword drawn and blood-soaked.

“Aveza,” he frantically said, “the Americans have completely broken through! As much as I hate to say it, this battle is lost. We have to evacuate all the Natives we can and leave.”

“But Jackson-”

“Can wait. We'll get him eventually, I promise. But we can't do that if we're dead. We have to go.”

“He's right, my friend,” Menawa struggled to say. Aveza swore again. She knew they were right.

“Fine,” she said sadly. “Help me carry Menawa, Arnold. Let's go.”

Arnold nodded and helped lift up their fellow Assassin. The two made their way as fast as they could off the battlefield, guiding away as many as their allies as they could. Aveza quickly looked back at Jackson with a heavy heart. She wished she'd have been able to kill him and end his reign.

------------

Aveza and Arnold stood up on a hill that overlooked the former battlefield. Their Native allies ran past them and escaped into the woods, while Menawa sat behind them covered in makeshift bandages. Aveza and Arnold looked down at the scene below, and the horror that plagued it.

The Americans began to slaughter all the Natives that remained after the fight. They gathered them all up and either tied them up or shot their ankles to keep them from escaping. Some of the Natives were lucky enough to be killed before the actual slaughter, but most weren't. Others were forced to experience the torture alive.

Aveza kept her eyes on Jackson, who seemed to be doing the worst out of all his men. Some Natives he just decided to shoot or stab, in such a way that they'd die slowly and painfully. He started skinning others, and encouraged his men to do the same. They gathered up the torn flesh and started making clothing and jewelry out of it. It was a gruesome, gruesome scene, and it terrified Aveza. It was true what she heard, Jackson was ruthless. She'd never seen a more despicable man. He kept torturing their prisoners in new, horrible ways. And as he did it, he had that same evil smile on his face. He was enjoying it. Aveza thought she was going to throw up. She felt like crying. Arnold saw her pain and hugged her tight. Neither said anything, they just watched in horror before eventually it became too much and they turned to leave with Menawa.

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March 30, 1814; New Orleans, Louisiana

Gérald entered the room and closed the door. He turned to the other three Assassins in the room. “I've gotten one of our medics to properly attend to Menawa’s wounds. He should be fine.”

The other three said nothing. Aveline and Arnold just kept their eyes on Aveza, who had her face buried in her hands. Arnold held her and gently rubbed her arm to comfort her.

“It'll be okay, my dear,” he eventually said to break the silence. Aveza slowly lifted her head to look at him, her face full of despair.

“No it won't,” she said, just on the verge of tears. “As long as the Templars are still out there, they'll just keep coming back. They'll keep coming back and they'll keep destroying everything. Things aren't going to be okay until dogs like Jackson and Harrison have blades sticking out out their hearts.”

Arnold said nothing. He just hugged her.

“We will get them eventually,” Aveline eventually said. “That's what we do. We stop Templars. It may take days, it may take decades, but our enemies will fall. You have to believe that, Aveza. You have to stay strong. Because if we don't stay strong, then that just lets the Templars bully us further.”

Aveza said nothing. She stayed in her position. Arnold exchanged sad looks with Aveline and Gérald.

“I think it's probably best that we head back to the Homestead,” said Arnold. The other two nodded understandingly. Arnold nodded and helped Aveza up. Arnold grabbed their bags and led them to the door. He silently thanked Aveline and Gérald with a nod. The others returned the nod and then Arnold and Aveza left the warehouse. He led them to a horse and they both hopped on. Arnold grabbed the reins and began to ride them out of New Orleans and back to the Homestead.

As Aveza hugged him from behind as they rode, all she could think about was what she would do to all of the Templars that crossed her path. She thought of all the ways she could get back at them. Little did she know, her chance would come soon.