I make my own luck.

Uphold the principles of our Order, and all that for which we stand. Never share our secrets, nor divulge the true nature of our work. Do so until death, whatever the cost. This is my new Creed. I am Shay Patrick Cormac, Templar of the American Rite.

[traitorsluck-blog]

((Wait... couldn't Warren Vidic and Daniel Cross alike have survived Desmond's attacks? I mean, sure, one got stabbed and the other got shot in the head, but they're both high-ranking employees of an enormous and wealthy corporation that happens to also employ top doctors and work on new pharmaceuticals. People have survived injuries like that before with medical attention.))

[traitorsluck-blog]

...

[traitorsluck-blog]

((I am not finishing this file of AC III, because I know I will lose access to the Return to Abstergo mission, which is so far my favorite mission in any Assassin’s Creed game. It’s just so satisfying in so many ways.))

[traitorsluck-blog]

Induction | Drabble

Sharon Benally had just had the weirdest work days of her life. In the course of three days, she’d witnessed the Great Earthquake in Lisbon and the entire span of the Seven Years’ War through the eyes of her ancestor, Shay Cormac. To make things even weirder, it had all been told in the context of an ongoing war between two ancient conspiracies, which were apparently still around... and she worked for one of them. Did I mention this was weird?

Now she stood in her boss’s office with three Templars: Otso Berg, Violet de Costa, and the boss herself, Melanie Lemay. Melanie held in her hands what she claimed to be the gateway to a bright future: a Templar ring. Behind her, Otso stood with a loaded gun.

“Refuse...” Otso warned lowly.

“Sir, with all respect, you won’t be needing that,” Sharon said, raising a hand calmly. “This isn’t even a question, I was going to ask if I could join you when I came up here.”

Otso smiled and lowered the gun. The women were apparently joyed at the idea that Sharon was so enthusiastic, though they waited for her to continue.

“Shay’s story tells me one thing. It’s not that he desired order, nor even that he was ever ‘against a wall’. It tells me that the Assassins are batshit insane. Pardon my language,” Sharon said. “I mean, they were completely unreasonable, there’s not a doubt in my mind that they had to die. I feel sorry that Shay had to be the one to do it. I want to join you, and I want to help you bring the Assassins down.”

“An excellent answer, Sharon,” Otso said. “Our Grand Master is not here, but I have the authority to induct you into our Order. Stand at the end of the table. You’ve seen this ceremony before.”

Yes, she was familiar with the process. She stood at one end of the glas conference table, with Otso taking the other end and the two ladies on either side. Everyone was solemn. Sharon had the golden ring set on the table in front of her, ready to slip it on when she took the oath.

“Do you swear to uphold the principles of our Order, and all that for which we stand?”

“I do.

“And so never share our secrets, nor divulge the true nature of our work?”

“I do.”

“And to do so from now until death, whatever the cost?”

“I do.”

“Then we welcome you into our folds, sister. You are now a Templar.”

[traitorsluck-blog]

((When we get Assassin’s Creed games set in the World Wars, I want them to both be the same Assassin, living through two interconnected wars that would reshape the face of the earth. More importantly, I want the Assassin to be German. And I want them to personally assassinate Hitler.))

[traitorsluck-blog]

"It occurs to me that we could easily cause the Assassins to off themselves simply by removing stacks of hay from nearby tall buildings."

[traitorsluck-blog]

How long does it take to dress in all of that?

"Fifteen minutes or so."

[traitorsluck-blog]

((I’m itching for a naval encounter thread, if anyone’s interested.))

[rpmemesupreme-blog]

Out of Context D&D Quote Starters:

[traitorsluck-blog]

rpmemesupreme:

Source

“EXCUSE YOU, I AM A HOT FAIRY.”

“I’ll kick a tree’s ass.”

“You should seduce the boat!”

“I killed a man today. In space. On a dragon. With a shovel.”

“Can I have flaming pistols?”

“No, you may not make a human centipede out of your army of 50 children.”

“Can I pay them money not to come near me?”

“I’m pretty sure fish don’t accept money.”

“I don’t know what we need to bleed on.”

“Let’s bleed on everything, just to be safe.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say we’re not going to solve this problem by bleeding on it.”

“Your ass is not a weapon you are proficient with.”

“That is the only dwarf ass I’m going to draw for you today.”

“Oh shit, I forgot the princess.”

“Did you just pull a gun out of your hair?”

“Who just carries spiders around in their pockets?!”

“He fought like he lived… Full of spears.”

“Ok, so there’s a lot of teeth in this water.”

“I’m not sure how to split a throne evenly. We all have a sitting schedule?”

“How many noses are going into this chicken?”

“We just turned a ritualistic orphan sacrifice chamber into a nightclub.”

“You started a cult!?”

“We need to give this guy a proper burial. After we loot his body. And take his teeth.”

“Yeah, he’s a ghost now. But I can punch ghosts, so it’s fine.”

“Have you ever seen a dragon choke on one hundred and thirty five orphans? Because you’re about to.”

“I can be responsible for my own severed leg, thank you.”

“Look, if I’m going to be a part of this Badger Cult, I expect career options!”

“I can’t believe you just pre-battle blazed it.”

“You lose the moral high ground after the second murder.”

 “I am literally dying for your sins right now! Do not fuck this up for me!”

“Summon the monkeys! They will be relevant!”

“What happens if you die in Hell?” “Double Hell.”

“Long term goal: we put your corpse on the airship.”

“Does it still count as ‘evil’ if I feel really bad about it?”

“Everyone is ambidextrous until proven otherwise.”

“You blew up the sun!”

“Hold my record player, I’m going in.”

“I have never tried to stab you in a combat situation!”

“Want to use my knife? It’s only been used for our own ritual blood-letting.”

“I’m not sure we can even beat a log right now. We must negotiate with it.”

[traitorsluck-blog]

((I keep finding Achilles around the Homestead. I'm not sure he realizes he's supposed to be dead. That, or Connor has some deeply-rooted psychological issues causing him to hallucinate his Mentor.))

[canis-venaticus]

[traitorsluck-blog]

canis-venaticus:

Official Concept Art of the Earthquake at Lisbon The fact that this has Shay in his Templar clothes makes it look like he’s going through a nightmare.

[traitorsluck-blog]

The Descendant | Darim & Shay

[traitorsluck-blog]

theapparentheir:

The months on sea had been tiresome, true. But he would not have expected it to weaken his abilities and caution so much as to lead him right into a trap. Maybe it’s been the anticipation of finally, finally walking on firm, unwavering ground again that fooled his suspicion of the man greeting him at the docks, claiming to be a brother.

The Assassin knew his arrival had been awaited by the Colonial Brotherhood. But it seemed as though they had been too reckless with the information shared in their letters. The men assaulting him knew his name and destination. Darim could only guess how many letters had been intercepted and he would not fool himself with the hopes that, maybe, his brothers were aware of his capture and would come to his rescue. He was on his own.

He grit his teeth now, picking himself up from the ground. Worn out as he was from his former fight with the men capturing him, ribs bruised and a wound at the back of his head from being knocked out. He would not give away the discomfort he felt on a physical as well as mental level.

Darim straightened his back, not moving from his spot just yet as he was very aware of the armed men at the door. Lips pressed to a thin line, he took on a composed, although cold and distant expression as he set eyes on the apparent leader in front of him.

“You americans seem to have a terrible idea of how to properly invite a guest.” He commented drly.

“A least, I would expect a decent introduction of the man who so graciously invited me into his home.” Darim added, matter of factly, completely disregarding Shay’s former question. It was not hard for him to figure out who the man was. Every Assassin knew the tale of the infamous Assassin hunter who’d whiped out the former Colonial Brotherhood. And the man before him matched the desciption he had heard so far. The thought that their brothers in the colonies had not informed them on the re-appearance of the Templars- or that they did not know, unsettled him.

Ah, so it was to be this kind of game. Shay had no doubts that Darim knew who he was, but there was no reason not to indulge the Assassin. The Templar sat down at his end of the table calmly, while one of his brothers pulled Darim’s own chair out for him.

“Apologies for the rude trip, but I don’t much like my Templar brothers dying,” he answered in a sarcastically pleasant tone. “You know well who I am, but very well. I am Shay Patrick Cormac, Grand Master of the Templar’s American Rite... and, yes, ‘The Traitor’.”

It was at this point that a black woman walked in through the door to the adjacent kitchen. She had a large bowl of salad in one arm and a pitcher in the other, with two wooden bowls precariously balanced atop the pitcher. She set everything down on the table, with a bowl in front of each man. She filled the bowls with fresh greens and gave both men a courteous smile. Notably, she did not wear a ring like the Templars did.

“Thank you, Georgia. Would you please get the wooden forks for us?” Shay asked.

“Of course, Master Cormac,” she said, giving a bow before returning to the kitchen.

[traitorsluck-blog]

((I have played through the Abstergo infiltration mission. I officially reject the idea that Desmond died, because that would mean there will never be such a badass modern-day mission again.))

[traitorsluck-blog]

“In order to become a Templar, one must pass a test. They must show reasonable knowledge of basic tactics. For example, my Templars are not permitted to investigate strange noises alone, nor to attack a foe one at a time rather than en masse. The fact that nine times out of ten I must teach them these tactics is frankly pitiful.”

[eliselaserre]

[traitorsluck-blog]

templar-queen:

The  Morrigan was a heavily modified sloop-of-war, captained by the Assassin-turned-Templar Shay Cormac, during the Seven Years’ War. She was as strong as a legendary ship by the end of the war.

[traitorsluck-blog]

Why don't you believe in luck?

“I never said I don’t. I’m sure there’s some cosmic force out there inflicting weal and woe on people, but I refuse to let luck decide my path. Rather than let fortune work for or against me, I make my own luck, and choose my own way.”

[traitorsluck-blog]

So, if you're Irish, are you... lucky? ;)

“I make my own luck.”