So it's been a couple days, longer than I wanted between posts, but nothing remarkable happened during my travels. I can't believe I've gotten to the point that riding elephants while using repeating crossbows isn't considered remarkable... Anyway, last night I met an interesting character.
It was around early Renaissance period, and firearms were becoming more widely used. However, many points of history were different, so there were still wondering Germanic tribes (few and far between, but similar to those during the Roman times). One particular tribe was very extreme. It was a small tribe, but that was because it was so hardcore. The basic training for everyone was similar to the Spartans, but they lived for war in a far different way. Since they were always on the move and trained so hard, they could never grow very big. The creepiest part was the fact that they were cannibals. The worst part of them was their top warrior. He is the Extrememist this post is named after. During times of war (meaning, almost always), he would only drink the fresh blood and eat the warm flesh of live victims. Be it beast or man, he acquired all of his sustenance from the living. Vampire stories were rampant in this land... mainly because of him and his tribe. He was even called a vampire in some cases.
This guy was so extreme, that when he was on the move during intense parts of war, he would ONLY sleep on a blood soaked field or on a pile of corpses (or in the warm corpse of a beast he wrestled down and ate alive). If he could not have a live victim, he would not eat or drink. If he did not have a blood soaked field or a pile or corpeses, he would not sleep. Yet he ate and drank every day, and slept every night. He became so feared that he could walk right up to the gates of Rome and they would open for him. The guards would step out of his way, and the crowd would part. He could walk right up to any king, emporer, bishop, anyone without resistance. But he did live as an assassin, so he did not kill them. He lived merely for war. His tribe was nearly as bad as him. Their small tribe (less than 30) was so feared, that NO empire or kingdom would trifle with them. If they did, the tribe would vanish and the largest cities of that empire would be burning in days.
Wanna guess who I was this whole time? The guy... assigned by the rest of the civilized world to hunt him down and kill him. That was a joke. I'm pretty sure me and all my companions (by that I mean 200 soldiers) lay dead right now, in pieces, in a burning forest. The Extremist will sleep well tonight.
That's all for now.
Showing posts with label Assassin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Assassin. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Games
Leaving every night has become normal to me now. When I wake up somewhere else, it's like I'm in a game. I can take over the world. Become rich. Fight an army. Then wake up, safe and sound, in my bed.
That's what last night felt like again, a game. I awoke in a small tribe. There was snow, cold, lack of resources, war, ect. It was winter, and this was a small tribe. This tribe was in the harshest land in an already tough place. This tribe was small as I said, the smallest. But it wasn't small just because of the lack of resources, harsh weather, and war. That was only a small part. The reason why this tribe was so small... was because it was a tribe of assassins. Their training was intense; only the strongest survived. As soon as I opened my eyes while laying in the snow, they heard me breathing. The whole village seemed to be upon me in moments. I would have been made a slave, if it weren't for my "superior skill" in "infiltrating" the camp. Apparently they thought I got in there intentionally.
Anyway, they trained me as one of them. The most advanced piece of technology they had was metal blades it seemed. That was the same for all the tribes in this area. I'm guessing we were either in northern Russia area or Greenland. I really don't know. But there were no flamethrowers with the ice this time. It was my job to "soften" the enemy tribes. It seemed like an arcade game. At one point, in order to get close to their chief in time, I had to allowed myself to be captured by a large tribe. I was escorted by about a dozen warriors in full combat gear, and they had taken all my weapons and armor. The only allowed me to keep my boots and basic clothes. It was cold without all my other coats and gear on! I was then brought into a tent that had at least another two dozen warriors inside and surrounding it. Once I saw the chief, game over for them. Within five minutes, over 30 warriors, and their chief, lay dead. I came back home in the garments of a king after than mission.
In case you happen to be wondering why our tribe didn't just go out and defeat all the tribes at once, it's because we were highly outnumbered. The smallest of tribes had at least a dozen families. And by family, I don't just mean a father, mother and a few kids. I mean the great grandparents, their siblings, all of their kids, and their kids kids, and their kids kids kids. A single family, at times, could be comprised of over a hundred people. Sometimes a lot more. The larger tribe, like the one I just told you of in my story, contained over thirty families. Some of these families were a lot smaller, meaning less then twenty people, but that's still a lot.
Our tribed had only three families. And these families were small. Every other tribe knew how dangerous we were, so we could never stay in one place or else all the tribes would find us and wipe us out. We were the only thing that united them. Even against the smallest of tribes were outnumbered at least ten to one. And there were dozens of tribes. It sure did make battles interesting...
That's all for today. I can't wait to go to sleep tonight...
That's what last night felt like again, a game. I awoke in a small tribe. There was snow, cold, lack of resources, war, ect. It was winter, and this was a small tribe. This tribe was in the harshest land in an already tough place. This tribe was small as I said, the smallest. But it wasn't small just because of the lack of resources, harsh weather, and war. That was only a small part. The reason why this tribe was so small... was because it was a tribe of assassins. Their training was intense; only the strongest survived. As soon as I opened my eyes while laying in the snow, they heard me breathing. The whole village seemed to be upon me in moments. I would have been made a slave, if it weren't for my "superior skill" in "infiltrating" the camp. Apparently they thought I got in there intentionally.
Anyway, they trained me as one of them. The most advanced piece of technology they had was metal blades it seemed. That was the same for all the tribes in this area. I'm guessing we were either in northern Russia area or Greenland. I really don't know. But there were no flamethrowers with the ice this time. It was my job to "soften" the enemy tribes. It seemed like an arcade game. At one point, in order to get close to their chief in time, I had to allowed myself to be captured by a large tribe. I was escorted by about a dozen warriors in full combat gear, and they had taken all my weapons and armor. The only allowed me to keep my boots and basic clothes. It was cold without all my other coats and gear on! I was then brought into a tent that had at least another two dozen warriors inside and surrounding it. Once I saw the chief, game over for them. Within five minutes, over 30 warriors, and their chief, lay dead. I came back home in the garments of a king after than mission.
In case you happen to be wondering why our tribe didn't just go out and defeat all the tribes at once, it's because we were highly outnumbered. The smallest of tribes had at least a dozen families. And by family, I don't just mean a father, mother and a few kids. I mean the great grandparents, their siblings, all of their kids, and their kids kids, and their kids kids kids. A single family, at times, could be comprised of over a hundred people. Sometimes a lot more. The larger tribe, like the one I just told you of in my story, contained over thirty families. Some of these families were a lot smaller, meaning less then twenty people, but that's still a lot.
Our tribed had only three families. And these families were small. Every other tribe knew how dangerous we were, so we could never stay in one place or else all the tribes would find us and wipe us out. We were the only thing that united them. Even against the smallest of tribes were outnumbered at least ten to one. And there were dozens of tribes. It sure did make battles interesting...
That's all for today. I can't wait to go to sleep tonight...
Saturday, March 26, 2011
NO!
It happened again! Once again I go to sleep in my bed to wake up in some other place. AHH!! I can't take this much longer! At least it doesn't feel so bad while I'm there. It's when I wake up back here that I become upset; because everything that is "real" I will only be able to live with for a short while. I might try to not go to sleep tonight. That might fix it. Hopefully...
Anyway, have any of you heard of the game Assassins Creed? The place I went to seemed an awful lot like that. I was in the Renaissance era. But I wasn't quite an assassin per se... more of I found myself amongst a poor part of the city filled with gangs. Yeah, apparently there were gangs then too. After the first few initial months of struggling to learn the language, the local gangs began to see value in some of my knowledge. Once I had learned to use the guns of the time (which were horrible even compared to the WWI rifles I was used to, by the way), I was essentially a pro. Even showed them how to make them better. I also had some skills in survival, stealth, sabotage, and other things from my years in Sparta. They taught me a few tricks as well, tricks more reminescant of the assassins creed game.
Now, there came a point in my Spartan training where I needed to learn survival skills. So to teach me, I was sent off for a year on my own with nothing but a tunic. And a whole... included winter. It was horrible. The first initial months weren't to bad. It was summer, after all. A little warm, but I could steal lots of honey and other food from the helots. I got in... conflicts with a few though. At this point, it wasn't my first time killing. But when winter actually came, things got hard. I had already, acquired, some basic tools (including a knife). It didn't do me a lot of good though when I was bathing in the cold water and a starved wolf attacked me. I ended up wrestling that thing in the freezing cold mountain water during the winter. After that day, I never complained about wrestling again. Or even full blown pankration. You try wrestling a wolf in a freezing river during the winter, while wearing nothing.
I just realized, I've been kinda jumping around in here, haven't I? Oh well, it's how I think now. I switch between these different worlds so much in my mind. I've already had my world, ancient greece, WWI, and now the Renaissance. It's starting not to matter now. I'm always somewhere. There is always something to do. It still seems like an awful lot though.
Now, back on track. I was in Rome. These gangs wanted power. I did too. They had only ever tried to gain power by taking over the domain of other gangs. I convinced them to look up; towards the rest of the city. I wanted all my trouble to be worth it. Since I had already been living in another world for over two years, I have to get something. One month later, we rose up. All as one. The underground of the entire city came together. We wanted Rome!
The trouble came while freerunning through the city. Apparently those extra good guns I helped make got in the hands of our enemies. I was leaping across a street (50 feet in the air between to buildings), when I saw someone in a window below me pointing a rifle. Next thing I know, there is a sharp pain in my shoulder, right above my heart. I land on the other roof and roll. That hurts my shoulder more. I stay there for several seconds, trying to breathe. I hear someone cock a pistol. I look up and there are two soldiers right in front of me. I leap up and barely avoid his bullet. Tiles underneath my feet shatter. I then land on the first shoulder and stab him, then take his sword and throw it at the other soldier. It sticks him to the roof. I then stood there, watching as I bled. My heart was racing; the blood would not stop. There was a fight going on below. A fight between my men and theirs. I charged, leaping off the building. It was wrestling the wolf all over again. This time though, instead of it being in a freezing winter, it was in a street filled with blood. And instead of being naked, I was coved loosely in torn, bloody rags. The clothes I wore were filled with bullet holes and cuts from blades. So was my flesh. And as the excitement reached it's peak, I woke up again.
Anyway, have any of you heard of the game Assassins Creed? The place I went to seemed an awful lot like that. I was in the Renaissance era. But I wasn't quite an assassin per se... more of I found myself amongst a poor part of the city filled with gangs. Yeah, apparently there were gangs then too. After the first few initial months of struggling to learn the language, the local gangs began to see value in some of my knowledge. Once I had learned to use the guns of the time (which were horrible even compared to the WWI rifles I was used to, by the way), I was essentially a pro. Even showed them how to make them better. I also had some skills in survival, stealth, sabotage, and other things from my years in Sparta. They taught me a few tricks as well, tricks more reminescant of the assassins creed game.
Now, there came a point in my Spartan training where I needed to learn survival skills. So to teach me, I was sent off for a year on my own with nothing but a tunic. And a whole... included winter. It was horrible. The first initial months weren't to bad. It was summer, after all. A little warm, but I could steal lots of honey and other food from the helots. I got in... conflicts with a few though. At this point, it wasn't my first time killing. But when winter actually came, things got hard. I had already, acquired, some basic tools (including a knife). It didn't do me a lot of good though when I was bathing in the cold water and a starved wolf attacked me. I ended up wrestling that thing in the freezing cold mountain water during the winter. After that day, I never complained about wrestling again. Or even full blown pankration. You try wrestling a wolf in a freezing river during the winter, while wearing nothing.
I just realized, I've been kinda jumping around in here, haven't I? Oh well, it's how I think now. I switch between these different worlds so much in my mind. I've already had my world, ancient greece, WWI, and now the Renaissance. It's starting not to matter now. I'm always somewhere. There is always something to do. It still seems like an awful lot though.
Now, back on track. I was in Rome. These gangs wanted power. I did too. They had only ever tried to gain power by taking over the domain of other gangs. I convinced them to look up; towards the rest of the city. I wanted all my trouble to be worth it. Since I had already been living in another world for over two years, I have to get something. One month later, we rose up. All as one. The underground of the entire city came together. We wanted Rome!
The trouble came while freerunning through the city. Apparently those extra good guns I helped make got in the hands of our enemies. I was leaping across a street (50 feet in the air between to buildings), when I saw someone in a window below me pointing a rifle. Next thing I know, there is a sharp pain in my shoulder, right above my heart. I land on the other roof and roll. That hurts my shoulder more. I stay there for several seconds, trying to breathe. I hear someone cock a pistol. I look up and there are two soldiers right in front of me. I leap up and barely avoid his bullet. Tiles underneath my feet shatter. I then land on the first shoulder and stab him, then take his sword and throw it at the other soldier. It sticks him to the roof. I then stood there, watching as I bled. My heart was racing; the blood would not stop. There was a fight going on below. A fight between my men and theirs. I charged, leaping off the building. It was wrestling the wolf all over again. This time though, instead of it being in a freezing winter, it was in a street filled with blood. And instead of being naked, I was coved loosely in torn, bloody rags. The clothes I wore were filled with bullet holes and cuts from blades. So was my flesh. And as the excitement reached it's peak, I woke up again.
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