6. A Rabbit's Foot

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No matter the amount of loathing you feel towards your Templar heritage, you cannot help but salute the benefits it has given you. Regardless of your personal vendetta against the Templars, they were hardly ever short of resources regarding currency and especially knowledge. Nevertheless, the beneficial knowledge is something you were, and always will be, grateful to have received. For its knowledge, you believe, is what made you the person and fighter you are today.

In the minds of many the theory is conceived, without a doubt, Templars are well enforced financially. The source of their wealth can be traced and credited to the several seeds of monopolies watered and grown by their own Templar ambition. But its expansive knowledge is the kind you can't learn anywhere else; except perhaps in the Creed of the Assassins but that is a whole separate idea for discussion. In the many branches of teachings you had the good fortune to learn, your favorites were: weapons training (dealing with both swords and pistols), combat, and the art of pickpocketing.

You carried the title of a fine wire amongst your fellow Templar associates with great pride. However, the recent mishap with the two police officers over two measly apples did deliver a rather large blow to your heart and pride. Nevertheless, stealing was a necessary skill, amongst many, to know and master. You saw it as a necessity to survive and thrive when on missions of the sorts that required you to do so.

However, in your current case you have no certain person to report to for your 'missions'. Missions such as making sure you have enough coins to spot yourself some food for the night and medicine if needed. The only person you need to report to is yourself and quite frankly you thrive on the idea of it. Working with and only for yourself allows you to set up your own guidelines, pick your own targets and concoct whichever approach you wish to take about the task. Thus, when it came to stealing you prohibited yourself from the poor. Not only would your earnings be mere but why steal from those more unfortunate than you? Why make their life harder to bear only for your own gluttonous gain? There is simply no need. If you were to continue on that same philosophy, you'd be no better than the people you are trying to escape.

It is because of these thoughts, and your properly placed morals, that you find yourself making your getaway from a now liberated factory through the rooftops of London. You halt in your steps as you catch sight of a clear alleyway below before proceeding to skillfully climb down until you reach the hard ground of said the alleyway. You mindlessly smile to yourself as you count the new earnings you've acquired from a chest in the main office of the factory. Once again the factory was being surveillanced by Blighters, once again they held small urchins captive under child labor, and once again did you eliminate the enemies, free the urchins and split the money you've found amongst you and the children. Only two days in London and you've already liberated urchins from factories not once but twice. And still, you can truthfully say you'd do it all again. The bright smiles of appreciation and gratefulness make you feel like you did something good for them. For a few seconds, it almost makes you forget that it is not partially your fault they were in that mess to begin with. But only for a few seconds.

You'd be lying if you said the thought never came to haunt you until now. Even back in Cambridge the work and ambition of the Templars were always on constant display under the guise of factory and transportation corporations of the city. Being in London only reminds you of what you once took part in to create and secure. Poverty, monopolies, and Templar success. Sure you rescued children from child labor when you were in Cambridge, even continued your streak here in London, but it's not enough. With what you've done in the past, it feels as if nothing is can ever be enough.

Your face drops its once radiant smile and your feet halt its casual pace as the memories from previous Templar missions begin to flood your mind. "I'm going to make things right," you lowly murmur to yourself as you gently clutch the money in your hand. "I don't know how...but I promise. Somehow....I will make things right."

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