You are an Assassin of the Colonial Brotherhood. You joined the Brotherhood a month after the traitor, Shay Cormac, 'died'. Two years after you joined, Achilles sent you to infiltrate the Templars.
Befriend Them
Gain Their Trust
Learn What They Are...
A month has passed since you were given that mission from Achilles. And this was the day of the ball. But about a week ago a Assassin named Adewale was killed by the Templars. You met him a few times in your time being part of the Brotherhood.
He was a good man. He didn't need to die. But Shay Cormac thought otherwise. Everyone was affected by the death of Adewale, especially Liam.
Liam idolized Adewale. He had the honor of being on some missions with Adewale. But sadly you would never get the chance to.
You couldn't help but think of what could happen to Liam and Hope. Would Shay target them next? You really hoped he wouldn't. You cared for the both of of them. They were your teachers; your friends. They both always looked out for you.
But the ball was tonight! Your were exited yet nervous at the same time. Exited because you've never been to a ball before. But nervous since you have never been one for being proper like the rich. But during your time on the streets some of them were just some of the rudest people you ever met.
You were also nervous about the Templars. What if they somehow found out you were an Assassin?
"(Y/N), is something troubling you?" you snap out of your thought to Hope asking you something. You and her were sitting in your room at a inn, in Boston, where you were to stay at until you were given some place else to stay, by the Templars.
"What was that?" you ask her. Hope sighs.
"I asked you if anything was troubling you?" she laughs out as she is helping you into your (F/C) and black dress.
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(Picture of the style of dress) You were standing in front of a large mirror. Hope was tighting the strings on the back of the dress. Your (H/L) (H/C) hair had yet to be styled and your face had yet to have make up on it.
Then Hope accendently ties the dress a little too tight. You grunt in pain. Hope looks at you with pity.
"Sorry," she says. You breath out and once Hope is done with the dress you sigh in relief. Hope then sits you down in a chair that was in front of the mirror. Hope then styles your hair into something suitable for a ball. Once she was down she had you look into the mirror. Your hair was in a messy bun with a braided crown. Some locks of your (H/C) hung at the sides of your face.
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