The Siege of the Assassins (Assassin's Creed 3 fanfiction)

Chapter 4: Trickery, Bars, and Horny Blokes

"I don't know about you Jules, but I thought that 18th century America would smell a little...cleaner. I mean, there is literal shit on the sides of the road and these people are okay with it!" Violet wrinkles her nose at me in disgust as she sidesteps a pile of questionable matter and lets out a grunt.

"I mean seriously! Do they not even feel a little bit embarrassed that they're dumping it where people walk? Why not bury it in the backyard or something! No wonder Europe nearly went extinct from plagues."

I let out a surprised laugh and jokingly elbow Violet "Oh god, that was mean! These people don't know all the health risks we do, you know that Vie. They thought catching something meant God hated you."

"Yeah, well we can teach them how to live like sanitary human beings."

I roll my eyes at Violet and grab her hand "C'mon, we should be close to the square by now." We quicken our pace down the street and continue on past a group of drunken men swaying about. We almost make it past one of the men who is a few feet away from the others and holding the wall to stay upright, but he lets out a shrill whistle that makes Violet and me turn around.

"Hullo m'ladies! Wouldya say tuh a drink wif me?" He takes a deep bow that results in him falling onto his face, yet he's still able to keep his bottle of spirits from spilling a drop. Violet scoffs in disgust and walks away with more speed, leaving the drunkard to be the butt-end of laughter from the others on the street.

"Boston is an absolute cesspool! I'm so glad We don't live like this in the future." I pull on Violet's arm and glare at her, signalling for her to keep her mouth shut. She rolls her eyes and continues walking to the bustling square. People are yelling at sellers and sellers are yelling to potential buyers, kids are stealing food off of unguarded carts, and pigs are wallowing in their pens. It's an absolutely smelly and noisy mess, but it's not overwhelming. It actually reminds me of the time I went to New York City for the summer.

"UGH! This is fucking ridiculous! How can these people be so disgusting and rude!" Violet crosses her arms in frustration and is probably one mishap away from stomping her feet and having a tantrum. She briskly starts walking away from the market goers and continues on to the path leading to the inn. She almost bumps into someone but they manage to move out of the way and she sends them her middle finger while saying 'watch where you're walking, dumbass.'

Honestly, this girl is a handful.

I hurry to catch up with Violet and almost run into her when she unexpectedly stops in the middle of the cobblestone street. I put my hands on her shoulders to steady myself and stand next to her, looking around.

"Really Vie, you need to calm down and stop being such a bitch. You don't even live in this time period so cut everyone here some slack. The sooner we save Connor, the sooner we can get home. Is the inn near here?"

Violet points up and sighs "Open your damn eyes, Jules. We're standing right in front of it. And yeah, I know what you mean, but seriously, why did I have to be taken here too? Since you know so much about this game, why couldn't you be the one to do it yourself. I'm fucking useless for this."

"I'm sure Juno had her reasons, don't worry." I look up at the sign, taking in the wooden plank with Free Mason the only words legible. Above it is a metal dragon with rust and peeling green paint adorning it.

"Oh my god, Vie" I gasp, bringing my hands up to my mouth "This is The Green Dragon Inn! Or, at least it was. Haytham and his men used this place as their headquarters! Isn't that exciting!?"

Violet raises her eyebrow at me "Su-ure. I just hope they aren't here anymore." She grabs the handle of the taverns in and pushes it, revealing to us a dimly lit sitting area filled with men, women, and whores. Two barmaids hurridly move around the maze of chairs and tables to give the customers their food and refill their drinks at the same time while an older woman is yelling at a drunk sitting in a barstool.