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| Posted by | What Might Have Been [AC3 rp with #5365] |
 Charley [Force Ghost] (side) ☕ (#24511) Evil View Forum Posts  Posted on 2016-01-30 07:28:21 |
June 8th, 1754 - The past, taken from Haytham's private journal. Taking Edward Braddock down just as I promised the Kanien'kehá:ka warrior, Kaniehtí:io and her people, I, the Grand master of the Colonial Rite, Haytham Kenway, am finally able to enter the Sanctuary I so desperately sought out in my travels to the New World. However, my plans are foiled by the mere fact that the Temple Key I possess has turned out, quite unfortunately, to be the incorrect source for opening the Temple's entrance. Discouraged, and in truth feeling alone, I turn my attention instead to the comforting woman standing just beside me. After expressing our feelings for one another through a tender kiss, Ziio and I make our way out of the cave. Still in the very heart of the Frontier, I find that I am unsure whether I want to remain with Ziio or depart back to Boston, but before my final decision can be made, Ziio herself asks that I accompany her back to a camp site she has set up just north of the cave; I accept her invitation without question. Once we arrive at the site, Ziio goes even further, and asks that I stay within the area with her for several weeks; again, I do not see harm in keeping her company, yet, still in the back of my mind I know my brethren back within the city will be in need of their Grand master. It is only before the third week that I decide to take my leave back to the busy city of Boston, despite allowing for my full feelings for Ziio to have finally come to light. I regret not stopping myself then and there. -------------------------------- July 2th, 1754 - The past, taken from Haytham's private journal Only a month back in Boston, I debate on whether or not I truly want to travel back to the wild lands of the Kanatahséton territory for the single hope of seeing Ziio again. I make up my mind in the end, and decide to leave that very same day, much to the surprise of my brethren. My second in command, and dearest friend, Charles Lee, outwardly shows his concerns for my departure, and on many occasions has pleaded that I not go, despite my plans of following through with the journey back to the Frontier. ------ "Sir, you have already done enough for the village, why must you go back?" Charles says, pacing hastily back and forth in one of the small bedrooms on the second floor of the Green Dragon Tavern, while Haytham calmly sits on the single bed, his tattered suitcase closed and settled right beside him. "To ensure that they remain safe, Charles. Yes, we have defeated Braddock and his men, but the village and it's people still risk falling under more harm in the future; they are without proper defenses." "And you believe to be the one to protect them, to leave your own men in favor of some secluded, infested land belonging to people whom might be in far worse a state than the very land they call home?" Charles was growing restless, almost panic stricken, but Haytham ignored his behavior, only nodding his head once. "I will be able to handle both the securing of the village and its inhabitants, as well as the dealings I have with you lot here. Our enemy is no longer a trouble to us, so you may rest easy knowing no such attack from them will ever arise." Haytham replies, his voice sounding much calmer than that of his second in command. At this Charles was speechless, and had stopped his frantic pacing in favor of standing in the middle of the room, his bright blue eyes wide and somewhat teary. "I trust you will make back and forth trips, sir?" Charles managed to say, swallowing just a little. Haytham nodded again, smiling faintly to his subordinate, before he stood up from the bed, walked over toward the other man, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It will take roughly three days between trips, but yes, Charles, indeed I will." -------------------------------- July 5th, 1754 - The past, taken from Haytham's private journall.. On returning to the area near the Mohawk Valley, I encountered one of it's people, and after the man recognizeed that it was I, the very same man who saved him and several others from Silas' fort, the native agrees to deliver my message of wanting to see the warrior named Kaniehtí:io. To this day, I still find myself wondering if he even understood a single word I'd spoken. Patiently waiting for her arrival, I, despite myself, begin to grow increasingly nervous, and silently wondered if I had even made the right decision on returning to the Frontier. It seemed not but a few minutes had past when at last a figure came back into my view, yet it was not to be the man from before, but a female; it was Ziio, without a doubt. She spoke to me, explaining of how she had recently found out about a child growing within her - my child. I knew I was destined to be a Templar, but a father? -------------------------------- April 12th, 1760 - The present. Location: Kanatahséton territory. Time of day: Early morning. Settled in one of the Kanien'kehá:ka's many longhouses, inside one located nearest the large lake beside the village, a familiar figure lies on a wooden bed that is strapped tight to the inner wall of the longhouse. his clothes consisting of only his white underclothing and a long, red vest that would otherwise be hidden underneath his navy blue waist coat. His other attire, along with his sword and flintlock pistol, remained hidden under the wooden bed, alongside his suitcase that would occasional be used to keep safe his journal. Settled on his left side, facing the vine infested wall, Haytham Kenway - looking a little bit older with noticeable strands of grey in his brown hair, along both sides of his head, just above his ears - mutters inaudibly in his sleep. Character SheetsNo thread generated. The original poster of this RP thread will be able to generate one for this feature. 0 players like this post! Like? Edited on 13/08/16 @ 22:22:18 by Charley [#TeamTemplar] (side) (#24511) |
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Robert 💤 (#5365)
Smug View Forum Posts Posted on 2016-01-30 16:51:32 |
ooc: When they're speaking in their original language, I'll be using (( ))s. I really don't want to butcher it with horrible translations, so the parenthesis will have to do. /ooc Through the entrance's archway, overhead openings in the ceiling, and tiny slivers of spacing in the layered wooden walls of the hut, the warm, orange glow of sunlight peered in, signifying the start of the day. Within the village, many of its occupants were already up, preparing for the day. Just outside of the longhouse that Haytham currently occupied, Ziio busied herself with hanging newly tended pelts over wooden stands, draping them onto the horizontal wracks, and brushing them clean. Nearby, stands of another kind, but of similar make, had more pelts, pulled taut against their thin canvases, drying near the heat of a dancing fire; the sun was not yet high enough to directly lend enough of its warmth. Around their land, men and woman kept themselves busy: caring for the dogs and horses, tending the crop patches, mending boats and hut walls, and fishing in the nearby lake, among other things. Their children ran to-and-fro, making up games, and getting into near-constant mischief. At that moment, one such child was up to no good; he was about to engage a Templar. With Ziio out of the house and Haytham resting unawares, Ratonhnhaké:ton - addressed as Connor by his father (a name bestowed upon him by Ziio's ally, Achilles, in honor of his own late son) - loomed overhead, hiding up in the rafters and beams of the hut. Clutched in the crook of one arm was a small cloth sack, filled with an assortment of small stones, berries, twigs, and clumps of knotted dry grass. The young boy loosened the tie and plucked a small pebble from the bag; a mischievous smile spread across his face as he raised his arm. Lining up a shot, Connor waited for the right moment. Before he could let the stone fall, however, a figure walked passed the opening archway of the hut, making Connor recoil. Watching from his perch, he observed then that it wasn't his mother, as he had feared, but a village elder, looking for a task to do. When the coast was clear, Connor returned his full attention to the target below. Haytham - mumbling something the young Native couldn't at all make out - was still resting on his left side, exposing his right ear. At that realization, the little devilish grin returned and Connor decided then to reconsider the pebble in his hand. After giving it a little thought, he deemed it too small to do much damage, and withdrew from the sack a slightly larger, bumpier stone. Disregarding any consequences that could follow, Connor held out the stone and mentally counted down his attack. He steadied himself on the thick wooden beam; his legs shook slightly, eager to leap to another perch and to make an escape. When he reached zero, Connor let the stone - large to his small, young hands - slip from his light grasp. Being positioned directly over his target, Connor was sure it would make quite the impact. (( 'If only your mouth was open,' )) Connor thought, giggling to himself. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 31/01/16 @ 00:03:30 by Robert [side] (ㆆ_ㆆ) (#5365) |
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Charley [Force Ghost] (side) ☕ (#24511) Evil View Forum Posts Posted on 2016-01-30 18:25:32 |
Every so often Haytham would stretch his legs out or tuck his arms in closer toward himself, yet not once did he fully stir from his deep sleep among the soft bear pelt. Just having come back from a long week away in Boston, finishing up on recruiting more potential Templar members, there was no doubt the man was so exhausted. Yet, unlike the rest of the villages' inhabitants that kindly left him to catch up on some much needed sleep while they went about their day-to-day business, there was one native in particular who had clearly taken it upon himself to wake the tired man simply for his own enjoyment, no matter the consequences that would follow soon after the Templar was awakened. For the majority of his younger years, Connor had been raised by his mother, while his father kept himself away, busy traveling from the Frontier to Boston, often staying in the city for longer periods of time without a single letter ever being delivered to reassure that all was well. Because of this, the Grand master, upon returning to the village, has had a tough time getting to fully know his own son, and form a steady bond with him - one that Connor so easily has with his mother. Having his doubts whether the energetic child was really his own at times, Haytham puts aside anymore ill thoughts on the matter, and despite how irritating the boy can become around him on most days, does his best to act a father to the young Connor. Yet, had Haytham had any idea of what was to happen just above his sleeping form, the Templar might have made the decision to stay in Boston a week longer. It pained him to be away from Ziio for an extended amount of days, however, but away from the boy, the Templar couldn't have been happier with the peace and quiet that surrounded him there. Feeling a sharp pain hit his right ear, Haytham awoke with a start, and jolting upright, he immediately scanned his surroundings for the sudden attacker. "Boy," he began, lifting a hand up to rub at his sore ear, now narrowing his eyes as he continued to search within the longhouse, hoping to catch sight of the small figure of his son, "you best be off before I lay my hands on you." The Templar spoke out in a false threat, now clearly irritable from his uninterrupted nap, but unaware of Connor's perch atop the longhouse beams. 0 players like this post! Like? |
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Robert 💤 (#5365)
Smug View Forum Posts Posted on 2016-01-30 19:18:31 |
Connor - shaking with silenced laughter - nearly fell from his perch atop the beam when he saw the Templar bolt up-right as stiff as a plank. He recovered quickly and kept as still as solid stone, eyeing the man as he felt for his wounded ear. The young Native narrowed his dark eyes, searching the stricken area for any sign of blood or bruised skin. Anything? He couldn't really tell now that Haytham was covering it with his hand. Well, that wouldn't do at all! With his legs bent beneath him, his back pressed against the wall for better support, and one arm holding the small bag close to his chest, Connor's free hand pulled another stone from the sack. With a swift flick, the stone was sent flying directly toward the Templar again. As it did so, Connor hopped onto another beam behind him, steadily increasing the distance between himself and his agitated father. When he made contact there on the second beam and corrected his balance, Connor turned and threw a third item; the red berry would be just short of reaching Haytham's head, and more likely to land in his lap or the surface of the furs covering the bed. At the sight of this, Connor frowned and began rummaging through the bag for more ammunition. Outside of the longhouse, Ziio had moved on, most certainly out of range of the commotion going on inside the wooden walls. She was now down by the lake's edge, helping the fishers to load their small boats. The carved boats - five in total - were stocked lightly with supplies: spears, woven nets, short blades, and shredded bait. The trip out onto the lake would be a short one and was planned to be over by mid-day. (( "Remember what the elders told you," )) the men paused their tasks and turned to her as she spoke. (( "A storm will be upon us soon; all boats should come in at the first sign of dark clouds. Be quick and be careful. Go." )) At her final word, the boats were pushed off shore and paddled toward the center and far off edges of the lake, where sunken trees made excellent fishing spots. She watched for just a moment as they rowed away before turning to climb the small hill back toward the huts. Gathering more volunteers along the way, the small group started other important tasks, namely, reinforcing the huts, collecting dried pelts, and gathering baskets of food to be placed in the storage building, away from the harsh winds and painfully cold rains that were to come as predicted. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 31/01/16 @ 02:18:47 by Robert [side] (ㆆ_ㆆ) (#5365) |
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Charley [Force Ghost] (side) ☕ (#24511) Evil View Forum Posts Posted on 2016-01-30 20:26:40 |
ooc: I've edited both this post and the little bit at the bottom of my first so as to include what clothes they're wearing at this current time. /ooc Removing his hand from off his reddened ear, Haytham's brow at once dipped down as he saw a small amount of red along his index and middle finger; a good hit to have drawn blood. Throwing his hand down onto the pelt, Haytham began to look for the source that caused his pain, until his eyes caught sight of the rather large, jagged looking rock that sat on the ground below, just barely reaching the wooden bed's underside. Sliding off from his once comfortable spot, and landing on his feet, Haytham knelt down, picked up the rock and held it up to further examine the object used for the torture he so rightfully did not deserve. Raising a single brow, Haytham kept his back facing the boy still hidden above him, only turning his head just slightly before yet another hard piece of earth suddenly struck the back of his head; though this was not as bad of a pain as the first, the sting still caused him to inch forward with a quiet grunt, all the while beginning to increase the man's inner rage. Keeping himself still facing forward, allowing for his vision to fully clear on up now that he was awake, soon enough a third object - red in color - quickly flew by his head, just missing making contact by an inch or two, but where it might have missed it's intended target, it did, however, catch the Templar's attention, and averting his grey eyes to where the berry flew past, the Templar silently watched as it bounced lightly before it rolled and came to a stop on the bear pelt, just nearly touching the wooden wall of the longhouse were Haytham was originally laying his head. Far from amused, Haytham made to turn to face the opposite direction, but the sound of hurried footsteps and quick panting caused him to freeze in place before he could even move his entire body. Had it been his son? Had the foolish child made to come apologize? Haytham could only dream of such a thing happening. It was not the boy, but one of his closest friends, Kanen'tó kon; dressed in tan colored Native clothing, with a long dark sash tied about his chubby waist; his dark hair, like the others around the village, was decorated with braids colored with red and white beads, with several bird feathers jutting out neatly at the top of his head, completing his outfit, Stepping inside the entrance to the longhouse, his hand gripping at a stitch in his side, the little native calmed his breathing, and taking notice of Haytham standing in the middle of the house, he smiled faintly, his chubby cheeks growing red with embarrassment at walking in on Connor's distant father. (( "I am sorry! I was just looking for--" )) the boy cut himself off as his eyes trailed off Haytham and wandered toward the longhouse's ceiling, until a crouching figure caught his attention just further off, near the house exit. (( "Ratonhnhaké:ton! I found you!" )) Kanen'tó kon shouted, with both surprise and relief in his voice. Smiling cheerfully up at the other child, now bouncing lightly on his tip-toes, he was completely oblivious of the fact that he had just given away Connor's hiding spot - something he would, undoubtedly, be repeatedly apologizing for before the day was over. Having turned his attention to the Native boy when he came stumbling in, Haytham, - still plenty furious, and with an aching ear - quickly turned himself around, matching where the boy was looking until he at last caught sight of his son from afar, and narrowing his grey eyes, he stormed forward, hoping to get just below the boy before he could make his get away. "Connor, my son, be a good boy and come down this instant! I will not tolerate anymore foolishness from you!" At this, poor Kanen'tó kon had realized too late of the mistake he had made and could only watch with regret in his brown eyes of what was to happen next. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 31/01/16 @ 11:28:45 by Charley [Charmander] (side) (#24511) |
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Robert 💤 (#5365)
Smug View Forum Posts Posted on 2016-02-02 17:02:29 |
Still stationed on the further beam closer to the other side of the longhouse, hurriedly sifting through the cloth sack for his next choice, Connor paid little attention to what else was going on below him and, more importantly and unfortunately for him, to the new arrival lingering in the entrance archway. That is, until the second young boy spoke. Connor's ears seemed to ring with the sound of Kanen'tó kon's voice; panic set in at once and the bag he was clutching almost fell from his grasp. Just as he glanced sharply down from his perch, Kanen'tó kon hollered up at him, addressing him by name even, and inadvertently gave away Connor's vantage point. Connor in reply grimaced and mentally cursed his friend. Reacting quickly to Haytham's storming forward, Connor hastily flung the rest of what lay at the bottom of the bag down onto the man, sending shreds of dry grass, rocks, dust, and squished berries raining down into a frenzy. The cloth he still kept clutched into his tiny fist. Ignoring Haytham's blabbering from beneath him, Connor - crouching on the beam - was suddenly struck with another idea. Throwing the bag from his hand down onto the man, Connor called out to his friend, all-the-while, maneuvering himself further along the beam and out of Haytham's reach. (( "Kanen'tó kon! Take his hat! Take it!" )) Connor yelled, catching himself as his balance wavered. He then stood, stretching himself upward until he caught the edges of the overhead opening nearest him, (( "It is beneath his bed! Take it and flee!" )) After his last word, Connor struggled just a little - snagging and tearing his sash onto the jagged wooden edge - before pulling himself upward and out of the longhouse; he was now on its roof. Running along it until he was on the same end that Kanen'tó kon was, Connor managed to both slide and climb down the hut, landing roughly on his feet; his knees kissed the ground briefly before he was up and running, leaving his friend behind. (( "Hurry, Kanen'tó kon!" )) Connor called over his shoulder, laughing and dodging working men and women as he made his escape for the entrance gate. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 03/02/16 @ 00:03:00 by Robert [side] (ㆆ_ㆆ) (#5365) |
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Charley [Force Ghost] (side) ☕ (#24511) Evil View Forum Posts Posted on 2016-02-04 15:55:29 |
Staring up at his mischievous son, Haytham quickly forced his eyes shut before any of the cluttered pieces that Connor dropped down on him had the chance to potentially fall into his eyes, and turning his head down, he growled in his throat, mentally cursing at the young native. Thin strips of dry grass, with small, hard rocks, even dust - the Templar found himself shielding from them, and whatever else the boy had stuffed into the small leather sack. At this moment, Kanen'tó kon did not know who to watch exactly, but once the other boy above called for him to do the unthinkable, Kanen'tó kon forced all his attention on his friend, who was now making his way up onto the longhouses roof with ease, much to the grounded boy's surprise. He had no time to yell back, to tell him that he did not wish to do the very thing of taking the man's hat, but his legs seemed to have other plans, and very soon Kanen'tó kon found himself near the middle of the longhouse, just close to the second wooden bed Haytham had been sleeping on. With Haytham busy forcefully brushing away any remnants, and with Connor's last words of, "Take it and flee!" swarming rabidly around in his mind, Kanen'tó kon, quickly shifting his head to the bed, then to the irritated man some ways away - clearly unsure of the decision he was about to make - before he pulled himself together, crouched down, and extended his arm out until it was near the Templar's belongings. Once he had made his choice of staying with Ziio, Haytham did not allow for himself to become a stranger in the village and requested that the woman he loved share her language with him; though it was taught for the desire to be able to understand what all was being said around him, rather than being able to speak the language himself. No, speaking it was a far different matter - one Haytham left to the Natives. On return trips to Boston, William Johnson - being far more familiar with the language himself - served as Haytham's teacher whenever he found himself free of his other studies. When not being taught by Ziio, Johnson made for a pretty helpful substitute indeed. In the short years that followed his decision to stay within the village, Haytham was able to fully grasp the native language with both Ziio and Johnson's help, though he still showed no desire to learn how to actually speak it. Now being able to understand simple words to long conversations alike, Haytham not only had a better understanding of the language itself, but of it's people as well. Some words, however, stood out more than others.. In little Connor's demand to his friend, Haytham had heard the word, hat clear as a whistle, and upon hearing this just before the boy made his escape, the Templar jerked his own head to see the other child reaching down where he had placed his outer clothing. Now if only he could correctly say the word stop to this child. "Oh, no, don't do that!" Haytham yelled at Kanen'tó kon, and for the briefest of moments the boy felt his hand recoil before he forced it back, grabbed the hat, and darted straight off out of the entrance to the longhouse, and after the already fleeing Connor. (( Ratonhnhaké:ton, I have it! What do I do now, help!" )) The boy, now with a huge amount of adrenaline, and panic surging through him, quickly dashed after the other boy near the entrance gate, being far more careful not to bump into any village elders preparing for the approaching storm he had meant to tell Connor about just before getting fully side-tracked by his friend's dirty tricks against his own father. Gritting his teeth, Haytham cursed under his breath, and jolting forward, hurried out from the longhouse and after the two boys, ignoring any and all villagers that he passed on by in his effort to reclaim his hat. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 08/08/16 @ 20:39:54 by Charley [#TeamTemplar] (side) (#24511) |
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