"Niklas."
A disembodied voice called from behind. Jumping from the small wooden crate he sat on, Niklas spun around and drew the flintlock pistol from his side, casting its barrel into darkness and towards the origin of the call.
"Freund! Niklas its me!"
A young man, no more than twenty years of age, stepped into the warm circle of light the campfire provided. His curly dark brown hair poked out from under a bicorn hat.
"Ah, Lucas, it's only you."
Niklas relieved.
"You shouldn't shout so loud, scouts from the colonial army could be just behind that tree line over there."
Niklas scoulded as he holstered his pistol and sat back down on the small wooden box.
"YOU shouldn't point that pistol at people's noses... If I had been one of the English officers you would have been hung for treason!"
Lucas quipped back, looking up with a smile as he knelt next to Niklas. The two laughed and warmed their hands over the fire.
"What are you doing here Lucas, Shouldn't you be standing watch along the Northern fortifications?"
"Nien, I was relieved from mine post about thirty or so minutes ago. I thought you might use an extra set of eyes to keep watch, und someone to talk to."
"You should be back at the camp Lucas, drinking rum and putting food in your belly."
Niklas replied staring deep into smoldering coals of the fire.
"With those British regulars? Nien. I would much rather watch the snow fall with mine countryman."
The two men looked at one another with childish grins running across their snow blistered faces.
"You are a good friend Lucas, I am thankful for your company... I am sorry I startled you."
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Assassin's Creed: Blitzkrieg
FanfictionThe Templars have yet again rose to power, this time under the guise of a new world order: the Nazi Regime. Friedrich Hans Vogel, a young man haunted by his past, now struggles to find his way through a life that has been shattered by the outbreak o...
