America

Jason was alone in the basement of his 'new home'. After having been ripped away from his current mission to meet up with the other assassins, Jason was feeling a bit frustrated. He was lightly happy to see his mentor again, though. It had been a couple years since he had sent him off for some missions. Jason wasn't even too sure why he was required for the meeting... It had nothing to do with him. Assassins meeting together to rebuild the order... but they couldn't just leave the world alone. It was the assassin's job to fight, and this little 'coffee break' of theirs was going to cost them....

Jason looked to the reinforced wall where he used to train as a teen. His teacher had purposely built the wall up so he could fight with it for as long as he needed. His teacher told him that a real assassin could break the wall with a single punch, but now looking at it, it was impossible to do such a thing. The wall was almost two feet thick and to simply punch it would never break it. That thought frustrated him slightly. He was such a fool, and still is.

No one had arrived at the base yet. Jason had done a sweep of the entire place. Knowing that, he began to do what he used to... punch the wall. It was just as he remembered. Painful. But this time, he was bigger and stronger, so every punch, shook the wall, if only slightly. His knuckle bled slightly, but that was nothing to him. He just punched the wall, as if he were trying to prove to someone that he could break the wall. The emotional investment into simple things was always a weakness of his.

Alyona crept around the corner, her attention invested in the pounding on what sounded like a wall. She had arrived at the base just moments ago, but was rather curious to find the source of the noise. Whit on eland on her dagger, she made her way through the base. She was quite interested to see the assassins meet up. She had been at this base only a couple times before, occasionally between major missions. The pounding became louder as she wove her way through the rooms. Soundlessly she entered a room where man was punching a wall. She recognized him from past missions. He was a mentor, like herself. She frowned for a second, but then understood. She remembered an exercise like this whenever she was young. He seemed dead set on breaking the wall, but it only trembled at every punch.

"I remember this," Alyona frowned. "I could never break it," she finally spoke up, intrigued by his emotional desire to break the wall. Just for the heck of it, she crossed the threshold and faced the wall. She placed her hand where she was about to punch, closed her eyes, breathed in, strengthen her core muscles, tightened her arm, pulled back, then pushed her arm forward. She felt the impact of her fist hitting the wall, jolting her. She wasn't as strong as most, but she had trained for years. She heard the faintest cracking of the wall in front of her, and she opened her eyes. The were no noticeable cracks in the wall, looking completely unharmed. She looked at her knuckles. They were scraped up, and a little bloody. The pain almost didn't register in her head. "Hmph," she simply said.

From the other side, a fist burst through the wall, and Camina's voice came from the other side, muffled by the wall.
"Does anyone know how I got over here? I was using the sewers! Where am I even?" It had been easy enough for her to punch through her side of the wall, though. Reinforced walls rarely work well both ways, and this one had been holding up to having been punched again and again and dirt for years. She had felt the weakness left from their punches, though she didn't know this to be the cause, and had struck firmly where they had done her job.
"...Oh, Dios Mio, have I gotten myself lost again? Madre de Jesu..."
Her accent and gratuitous swearing easily placed her as a Spaniard, but her skin, at least, that which they could see, looked like she had been born elsewhere, the islands to the south, maybe.

Lance stopped and leaned against a nearby tree, he'd tripped countless times on his journey. Well, he really couldn't be too surprised about that; after all he'd been stupid enough to travel during the day. He firmly placed one hand against the tree and got some distance between it and himself, he'd only have a couple seconds to make sure he was still on track. He took a couple deep breaths and opened his eyes, his eyes instantly began burning as if needles had been inserted through them. With the precious few seconds he had, he located what appeared to be the mansion he was looking for very far off. He didn't have time to plot much of a course before the pain forced him to close his eyes again. Cursing his luck, he began to slowly shuffle forward, at barely three yards he tripped over a tree root and hit the ground, the noise of his hitting the ground was painfully loud to his ears.

"Damn it," he hissed, after all at this rate he'd only kill himself trying to get there by nightfall. So he crawled up against the tree, that had caused his fall and decided to wait it out until dark. With that he'd be able to move normally, it was simply a matter of waiting until then. If his years as an assassin had taught him anything, it was patience. He had no fear of anything sneaking up on him, after all he was focusing on his ears at the moment since they were already overly sensitive. Now that they were his primary means of interacting with the rest of the world, their efficiency increased.

"You know now I have to fix that..." Jason growled at the girl. He clenched his fists and made a face of annoyance as if he were some kid. He crossed his arms and rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself. "I should be the one saying Dios mio." Jason was not expert in the language, but he had grown up with it. Most of it was broken, but he could understand pretty well. Jason turned to the other girl, the one here first and greeted her by her name remembering her from the past, "Alyona. Nice to see you again. I am Jason."

As he spoke, he pulled down his hood. Standing there, he noticed he was much taller than the girls... but that was common for him. Jason was very tall. He looked over at the hole in the wall, then to the other entrance to the room. He wondered where the master was. He should have been here first. Jason walked out of the room and left the two girls alone as if he were going to do something, but he was just curious if anyone else was here.

Khaj rode down the paths to where he needed to go. His rifle was strapped to the horse as well a chest of gold and silver. That money was to fund many of his rather expensive experiments. An assassin is nothing without good gear, for it is that gear that makes them seem almost magic. He padded himself over during the ride multiple times to check if an indian had shot him as well as taking many short breaks to rest since he could never tell if he was tired. Hopefully he would get a room all to himself, one that could house him and his invetions. Getting closer he adjusted his mask and put his left hand on his pistol. He was always nevous that way.

When the veteran Janissary arrived he rode around the base to find a stable for his mount when he saw three people instead. He thought of how he would look to these possibly Christian assassins? The thawb, the börk on his head, and the mask did not help him blend into any crowd. He rode up to the stables, tyed his horse, and carried his things inside, The rifle was very akward to carry by himself bing that it was almost twice his size. He walked into the entance to see it a bit dusty and dark. He took out an invention of small rough sticks and stricked it against a wall to light on fire, then he lite a candle stick on the wall. From there he went on to lighting all the candle sticks by passing the flame of the original along. Placing it back on it's holder he called out "Allah Allah. This blace needs some work done on it. Is anybody here besides me?" Kahj wondered if he was the first to arrive. Reguardless he sat down and held his rifle in front of him. All he needed to do now was wait.

Camina hadn't heard the man, having left to find out how to escape her self-made tunnel. She eventually climbed out of the tunnels, and found the actual building, walking inside.
"Hello? Is there anyone here?" she asked tentatively as she looked around.

((Um...Alyona never broke the wall....))
"priyatno vas videtʹ" Alyona said, nodding to Jason. Which meant 'good to see you' in russian, a greeting she didn't offer to many people, with the expection of people she hasn't seen in a long time, hence the reason she offered it to him. Alyona was well worn out from her long journey. She had let her horse go free ten miles back, as it was tired and slowing her down. She had traversed the rest of the way on foot. That plus her now raw knuckle made her want to 'Sadis', V Nogakh Pravdy Nyet' "When will the rest be arriving," Alyona said, her speech clouded with a thick Russian accent. She hoped there would be enough time to rest. As if as an afterthought, she pulled the bow from her back, easing the tension from her shoulder blades, and set it on a table. She adjusted her quiver on her back, and wrestled her concealed knives into a more comfortable position before picking up her bow again.

(No, but she wasn't the first to punch it, like I said, it would have had years of stress behind it. Also, not to mention I found it rather funny, that a ditzy girl who couldn't even get to the guild from the street ended up being, and I quote, a "real assassin". I also bring up her island upbringing, where she never had more than a day of rest per year. She's stronger than she looks.)
Camina walked into the area they were in, shaking the dirt out of her hair. Upon her reveal, she was much smaller than you'd expect, only about 5'2". She was small, but her muscles were well defined from her younger days when she would spend her days swimming for oysters, climbing trees for fruit, and hunting down deer with a knife, having never been able to properly shoot an arrow for the life of her. As she walked, a slight breeze moved her clothes a bit, revealing a rapier, finely jeweled and looking sharp enough to cut a man down before he knew what had happened. She took a few more steps forward, and bowed formally, introducing herself with a completely serious tone.
"Camina de Knowles, Teacher of many, student to all." The sudden change from her lighter personality earlier was a little jarring, almost like changing gears without the clutch.

A cold, ominous wind seemed to echo through the room as the door swung open, and in stepped a dark figure. Every individual in the room perfectly recognised this individual.

The massive build, the way his black cloak floated around his feet as though he were a ghost, the burnished, angular, terrifying armour. The tight grip around the razor-edged, uneven sword, and the large falcon that rested on his wrist, its wickedly hooked beak shaped as though it were smirking, its eyes searching everything in the room for threat or food. The figure's incredible height, towering over even Jason.

There was only one individual in the Order who could command such immediate attention.

"I see that you've returned to your old training room," Maximilian said; his deep voice held a slight accent to it, and sounded almost poetic; not quite booming, but rather smooth, speaking of years of calm experience. He glanced around, observing the various people within the room. "Ah, interesting. I did not expect for us to have some many people in here. Tell me, what are you all doing here? Do you not have better things to do?"

The sounds of evening arose rather quickly. It had been near sunset when Lance had stopped to wait for night to fall;compared to waiting multiple days for a single target, this was far shorter. Animals would be out and on the prowl soon, with that in mind, he opened his eyes again. It was dark, Lance could now see normally and without any pause he set off again. Less than thirty yards from where he stood had been a ledge, if he hadn't stopped he would have fallen off during the day. But since he could see, the fall would be no issue. He leapt from the ledge and rolled out of his fall to conserve momentum, he was probably the last one to arrive at the meeting house. While still approaching the mansion he caught the smell of horse...not overtly strange but still questionable. He'd messed up, his earlier haste had kept him from properly observing his objective, if an enemy had been waiting he'd be dead. Internally chastising himself, he fell back into the shadows, hiding in the thick foliage and underbrush.

From there he took great pains to slowly make his way around the property, carefully taking note of what his eyes and ears told him. One horse, stable large enough for about seven. No lights were on in the mansion, anyone there would be used to seeing in this level of darkness. The buildings were well situated, the stables or anything else provide a gaping blind spot. To be expected from assassins, the closest thing to a weak spot, the chimney and even it was too small to fit a person through. Taking that into account,he'd have to either find a hidden entrance or take a roundabout trip through the building. Using the miniscule blind spots the evening gave for him, he slipped up to the house, ducking under a window for a quick breather. Slowly taking out one of his metal stakes, he carefully pried and window open, and began to slip in. A rug that was just barely out of place showed him a crucial detail before he stepped down, the floor was rigged.

He'd heard in some of the distant lands in the east, floors had been rigged to squeak when stepped on. While he'd never seen the floor himself, these seemed to match the description. Even worse, he had no way to journey along the walls to avoid tripping the floor...at least not without an equally loud method of stabbing into the wall. He searched the window sill with the stake he'd drawn, no less than three traps adorned the sill and there was no ledge to grab onto from the inside. Put simply,if there were a job he'd just been utterly defeated.

"Well done my brothers," while to him the tone had appeared a yell, in truth it was no louder than normal talking. He dismounted the window as quickly as possible to avoid any traps he'd failed to notice. Sure enough the floor trilled its squeaking alarm, any real assassin would hear him by now, but he took no rush in re-closing the window and walking around in hopes of finding his fellows. His eyes had found none waiting on the first two floors, nor did his ears, anyone up here would have to be holding their breath. That meant a hidden basement must be accessible somewhere, logic dictated searching the first level, floor trilling with every step.

The ship had made it to port. Jin Rou felt horrible. He had kept himself down below for the entire trip. It didn't help much since he could still hear the ocean water crashing against the hull of the ship. Jin had blocked his ears to drown out all the noises. Jin broke into a cold sweat at the thought of falling in the water. It was lucky that the person who had come down to get him was so noisy in his stepping. Jin Rou was able to focus on the blundering steps of the first mate.

The hand that landed on Jin's shoulder would have been broken in three places had Jin not been aware of who it was. He was able to hold back the reflex.

"We're here Mr. Rou," he said quietly. It was early in the voyage that Jin had told everyone that he was not deaf and in fact his hearing was very sensitive. That was why he told people that he couldn't stay up top due to the crashing waves. They allowed it feeling pity for a blind man. It was more the fact that he was afraid of falling in the water. He couldn't swim after.

Jin gathered his large bag and was led out of the cabin and up the stairs. He had allowed them to think him quite handicapped.
"Thank you very much," Jin said to the crew as he bowed to all of them showing his gratitude. He could hear the water underneath his feet as he walked across the plank to the dock. His body tensed and he made it across. He took out a walking stick and tapped the ground showing people he was blind. His ears on the other hand 'saw' the water under the dock as well as the dock itself. All the sound from the crashing waves showed Jin the place he would be practicing his trade.

His feet hit soil as his ears started to take in the area around him. Jin walked over to a place that smelled like bread. He would have to get directions to the base where he would be meeting others like himself.

((So confused now...So did Camina break the wall? And if she did....that isn't very realistic I guess. Not to be a critic, but the only person I even considered breaking the wall would be the head assassin. I made sure that my character, even at the position of a mentor, did not break it, only a faint cracking sound. Not even visible lines. Though I do understand that it was on the other side, doesn't it seem...unreasonable? Forgive me for my sudden randomness...I was just confused by who was what, and what was going on..I just yeah. Either way, I would prefer this to be taken to the OOC... Urgh...Jeez I have an afterthought for Maximilian: Is it ok if I say that Maximilian taught Alyona? The age difference for this doesn't seem unreasonable.))

Alyona was just putting her arrow back on her back when a figure appeared in the doorway. She was about to send a knife towards his chest, but then she recognized him as her focus sharpened. "Master Maximilian," she said, with a courteous bow. Alyona wondered how long it had been. Was it just yesterday he had been teaching her how to send someone to the ground dead before they could blink? It was very nice to be seeing Miximilian and jason again after so long. She had spent the past four years as a spy off in a foreign island to gain both trust and knowledge of their corrupt political leader. Then when it seemed most surprising, she killed him. Now why wouldn't she kill him outright? because he was an assassin like herself. It was complicated, and she really didn't want to get into details, but long story short, she hadn't seen anyone from their group of assassins in forever.

"Ah, interesting. I did not expect for us to have some many people in here. Tell me, what are you all doing here? Do you not have better things to do?" she heard maximilian say. "Relieving old times. But I was also wondering the same thing. Could I not refresh myself from the long journey?" Alyona replied, her russian accent distorting the words she uttered.

Jason bowed his head as Maximilion entered the vicinity. As he looked up he heard the old man say "I see that you've returned to your old training room." Jason nodded and replied quickly, "I was only curious to discover how I have changed since I was here last." Jason watched as the great leader of the assassin order strode into the basement room and addressed the others. Jason left the basement to see if any others had discovered the base. He wandered the first floor for a bit, stopping as he saw a man sneaking around. He wondered if he was an assassin or just an intruder. As Jason watched him silently and quietly, he caught him say, "Well done my brothers." That and the fact that the man noticed the traps. They were only by the windows. Other than those, the house was just falling apart.

Jason wrinkled his nose slightly before talking to the man, saying, "State your business." Jason didn't want to let the guy off the hook so easily. Jason whipped out his bow and arrow and aimed it firmly at the man. Maybe the man would recognize him as one of the mentors... they were pretty well known around the brotherhood for their skills. Jason wished he could be good at his job without being held up like some sort of hero or secret weapon, but what could he do but go along with it? Jason turned his thoughts to the man and gave him a harsh stare as he waited for an answer from him.

A man in Brotherhood garb demanded Lance state his business, Lance let his eyes take in the other assassin. The man was well outside of Lance's immediate reach, and he'd obviously not be able to draw his own bow before his counterpart fired his arrow. One thing however did catch his eye, the tomahawk the guy was wielding. The tomahawk had Brotherhood written all over it, and less than a dozen assassin's in the New World carried one around...foremost among them being, "Mentor?"

Lance asked the question to get a feel of the man, but made no effort to remove the metal stake from his hand. "My business? Simply finding out if this is the right location, and should I be wrong...eliminating evidence of my passing." He bent the ring finger on his left hand down, a symbol of the days of old where the Brotherhood removed the digit as a mark of fealty. He drew no attention to the act, but for one of the Order, his action would be clear as day.

The old Janissary stood up from his chair after thinking it could make him stiff. He wondered where he could store all of his equippment. Once he was situated he would retrieve rest of his things by wagon from a worker from the storehouses that would bring it to a disclosed location. The room would have to be large, after all he was going to set to work on creating an Ottoman Bombard. He thought for a moment and then concluded that the best location for his accomadations was the basement. He snapped his rifle in two and began to walk down the stairs, pistol in hand in case this was not the right place.

There were a few traps but Khaj dogged them easily enough. His vision and hearing were not affected by the leprosy, at least not yet. He eventually came across two men having a conversation. He approached them without worry because he spotted the Brotherhood symbol on one's axe, that and because he had his pistol pointing at the man with the bow. "I may have come here at a wrong time but I was told I could find haven here. This place is quite different from Instanbul after all." He nugged his barrel slightly but still kept it aimed at the man. The way he made his guns made them accurate and they would hit no matter what at point blank. "Now I suggest we boot this tension behind us for it is obvious that none of us will make the first move. I am Khaj Amir and I came hear to teach. Now how about you two? I would like to know whether or not I am pointing my gun at my supperior." He finished with his little joke.

Jin Rou

Believed he had found the base. He had gotten directions and he simply listened for the stream that was supposed to be near by. He knew he was going the right way when he sensed he was being followed. It was not a sense, he could clearly hear the distinction. Someone was being very quiet and unless this person was a thief which didn't seem likely because he only followed him a certain distance until two more people were following him from the trees. He slowly made his way in the same direction until several individuals leaped all around him.

"Why are you here?" asked a man directly in front of him.

"I am here for an important meeting" answer Jin

"Wha-" Jin drew his left whip out and slashed the ground in front of him. "I do apologize but I will not stand here when the time to meet has most likely passed. I am Jin Rou from China and if you keep me from this meeting then so be it."

Jin Rou started walking and then stopped. "Which direction is the Assassin's base?" he asked feeling quite embarrassed.

Following the scouts outside he made his way to the base and walked inside letting his hollowed walking stick create vibrations as he made his way down a long corridor.

"Jason Marks." Jason said harshly, putting his bow down. In one smooth motion, he slipped the arrow into it's quiver and the bow on his back. Jason said nothing more as he turned around and walked off. All he needed to know was that they were in fact assassins. He turned though and told them, "The main entrance was unlocked." and continued to wander the house, looking intruders or assassins. He thought about calling out to anyone there, but Jason wasn't much of a yeller. He was actually pretty quiet, only speaking when he thought it necessary or he just wanted to say something on his mind. He turned the corner, and noticed a chinese man walking along inside the building. He whipped out his bow and arrow again, pointing it at the man, but quickly noticed the whip. If the man attacked, Jason would have to avoid that thing. He looked up to the man and said sternly, "State you purpose here."

William sat in the carriage he had hired. The expenses for it had been quite big, but he still had some money left from his family. Six weeks ago he had been given a mysterious letter. It contained a map and an offer to join an organisation. As an incentive to join they had offered him a chance to earn money. More money he could ever earn as a doctor. Without telling anyone he simply left his home and booked a ship to America. After his long and incredibly boring journey he had arrived in America. From there he had hired a carriage to transport him to the location marked on the map.

As he arrived the locatiom he saw a large building. He paid his driver and walked tha last bit to the buidling in the distance. When he arrived he saw two figures, but couldn't see any details. As he got closer he saw that they were two men. One looked like an italian and the other asian. Standing near them he said, " Good day. My name is William Jackson and I recieved a letter telling me to go here. Do you know who I am supposed to talk to?" As he finished the sentence William looked at his hands and saw that they were trembling which meant only one thing. He was soon going into the first stages of withdrawal and that was something he had to prevent.

Lance chuckled though his nose as the situation diffused, only for the tomahawk wielder to start over again around the corner.He gave he gunman a quick two-fingered salute as he walked off. With that he proceeded into the basement, it seemed to be the focus of everyone's attention here. First thing he noticed that three people were already here, a huge man and two women, one of which appeared Spanish in origin. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but the air was very heavy, "So tense, with an attitude like this a target would catch you lot a mile off." He sheathed the stake and spread his arms, "Any one need a hug, they're freee." He knew making a fool of himself would win him no favors, but the atmosphere needed a change if they wanted to get a solid unit.

While he'd also noticed the wall, he refused to comment on it. But with the two girls covered in powder from it, and the man upstairs also holding the smell of the stuff too; a fight could very well have occurred. A hawk on the huge man's shoulder brought up a name that even a colony bum like him could recognize, Maximilian Thermidor, Head of the Brotherhood. This meant that everyone here was probably his senior in the Order and had much more combat experience than himself...granted Lance should be on about level footing with everyone else in flat killing experience. Both of the women had the muscle indicating they were speed fighters, not overly surprising. After all a woman couldn't really expect to rely on strength when fighting a man, The Spaniard had a rapier resting a bit too comfortably on her hip...a fencer?Didn't think those were of much use for actual killing. The thought flickered across his mind, but the pale woman irked him,she seemed fast but there was nothing overly obvious. This meant that she was a hidden weapon user or a hand-to-hand fighter...probably both and his experience taught him they were particularly vicious at counters. Of everyone here, it'd seem her fighting style was most similar to his.

After one last bow to Maximilian, she exited the room, hoping to find someplace to keep her things, more members of the Brotherhood, or possibly a place to wash up. She was beat from her trip and felt quite restless just standing about. Therefore, she decided to roam the building, trying to remember her way about. It had been so long.... Noises came from down the hall and she raised an eyebrow before pulling out her two daggers from her boot. She heard footsteps echo down the hall: Someone leaving. Soundlessly, and in one swift motion, she whirled out from behind the corner and drew her daggers up, crisscrossing in front of a man's neck. In another second, she took in her surroundings.

The man she had her daggers drawn to looked like a tracker, at first. But then she looked closely. He had a lot of knives, some throwing, and she thought she recognized two Janbiya knives. If she looked closely, she could barely make out the Brotherhood symbol. She didn't recognize the man, but she eased her tension, lowering her blades, but not putting them away. If he happened to be a fraud (though it was unlikely) she would be able to kill him in seconds. The other man did not have knives, but she caught a glimpse of a gun. His fingertips were stained with gun powder. At the time, not many people used guns. Too expensive, too much time to load, to much much work. But it appeared as if this man was a bit of an expert on guns. Still, either from not many weapons exposed or the lack of a symbol, she could not find any proof that he was part of the Brotherhood.

Now, Alyona had grown up, and practically taught to trust no one. Even those you trust could be turned against you. She wasn't one to make rash decisions. Though it seemed impractical that anyone outside the Brotherhood could have gotten into the base, she wasn't one to take chances. Taking chances led to immediate death. Therefore, it seemed practical to put her daggers away and take up her bow, knocking an arrow before the man could blink. A cold look set in her eyes, and she keep a concentrated firm grip on the bow, ready to let her fingers slip, releasing the arrow at a moments notice. An idea came to her. If he was part of the brotherhood, he would know her. Most people did, being a Mentor and all.

"What is business of being here?" She asked, her voice steady, even calm. "If you can state my name, then forgive me of being untrustworthy."

(sorry, disregard Lance being there. I would edit, but not sure how too edit it so it makes sense. So I repeat, disregard Lance being there.)

Not long after his confrontation with the other two assassins he himself was questioned by a woman who sounded like a Russian. Many of them had a unique history, some dark, others even darker. Perhaps she was an assassin for the Tsar or perhaps not. It did not matter to ask questions with a bow pointed at his face. He had no idea why so many of these people used bows. Back home everybody used guns and knives, bows were virtually obsolete. She asked his business so he put his pistol in his belt and began to unbutton his Thawb. He pulled the cloth to show his left pec where over his heart showed the tattood symbol of the Ottoman Assassins.

Still showing her the tattoo he spoke. "I come from Istanbul, from the Brotherhood section there. My name is Khaj Amir. I am to be teacher here. Do you know where I can boot my things? Berhabs a big room where I can store the weapons in?" He asked the woman. He had no idea where anything was but he was sure this one might.

Alyona lowered her weapon. Though he hadn't stated her name, she didn't expect him too. Someone from the Ottoman Assassins would not know her. However, she did not know where he could put his things. "Unfortunatly, I have not been here in a very long time. I do think I passed a several weapons rooms down that hallway and to the left. One was completely unoccupied. Again, forgive me. My name Is Alyona." With a nod to her head, she continued her search of the base, eventually finding a washroom. After refreshing herself, she continued on. She found a hallway of sleeping accommodations and found an unoccupied room. She set down her bow and quiver of arrows. Though a bow was good for long range, she preferred her throwing knives. She decided not to remove any other weapons however, because each had a purpose, especially for emergencies. By now, she knew that one should always be prepared even in the most comfortable situations.

(sorry for short post. Sort of just waiting for everyone to 'show up'

"I'm trying to find the meeting place and currently you are standing in my way." Jin's voice was held a bit of annoyance. It seemed like everyone was just asking to be for trouble. "Why else would I be here?" Jin felt little sympathy for assassins like these guys who knew so little of manners and common sense. The fact that this place was full of assassins would make it one of the more dangerous places on earth. Granted everyone had the ability to take a life with little effort so they have to be on their guard, but to be so rude he was tempted to make a lesson of this man.

Jin stared at the man revealing his blindness to him trying to get him off guard. Jin didn't particularly like projectile weapons. They were very hard to deal with, nearly impossible if he didn't have time to react. He could hear where the bow was pointed and made a note to shift his center to give the man a smaller target.

"Now if you would please lower the weapon before things happen that can not be undone." he stepped forward as he turned his body so that the man would have to go for either his head left leg or left arm. Preparations were ready. It was just depending on the man before Jin.

Khaj left to seek out the room, passing several hallways to get to it. Finally he came to the room in which the woman was speaking of and checked it out. The room was soundproof enough, it would muffle but not completely cancel out the sound of a gunshot. He continued to setting his Long Rifle onto the table and unpacking his things too. One was a makeshift target he had that was about the size of a plate. It was made of a homemade material that at touch was like flesh. He placed it to the far edge of his room to use it to see if his gun still had it's powder dry. He aimed his pistol at it and fired, making a loud bang in the process. His fellow assassins would have to deal with his noises at night for as long as he stayed so they might as well start now. When he walked outside his door he began to carve an outline of the sign of Islam in the middle of the door with his knife. It would add something familiar to this foreign place.

After spending ten seconds reloading the gun, Khaj began to wonder around. His left hand was on his pistol handle again for it was almost through habit. He walked down to the basement for a few minutes. When he got down he noticed several assassins there, none of which had even a crossbow on their person. "Why is it that all of you brefer old age weaponry?" He inquired.