~ March 12th, 1502 ~
His hands gripped the cold stone ledge of a nearby building, of Roman design. There was a guard standing only a few meters away from him, and he knew he had to get his target very quickly tonight. He pulled himself atop the roof top, his white robes almost glimmering under the soft embrace of the moon light. Once close to the guard, he looked around his surroundings quickly, to make sure he was unseen and then plunged his hidden blade into the guard's back. The guards mouth was covered from behind by his free hand, as he pulled the guard out of any line of sight. The guard didn't struggle for long, and his death was without suffering.
His name was Luciano Vinocini, Assassin of Florence and now Roma. A cold and efficient assassin, but reckless and young, as well as inexperienced. Being the only member left in his family that was an assassin, he took the mantle all on his own, much to the dismay of his siblings Minerva, and Marco. Right now, he was hunting down a cardinal that had been ordering the deaths of a great deal of scholars and artists. Luciano knew that Ezio Auditore, master of the newly reformed Brotherhood of Assassins was probably already on it, or ignoring the case all together because of his focus on the Borgia. Luciano had his own bone to pick with Borgia, but he wasn't about to let this cardinal continue to suppress the flow of knowledge and research.
Luciano jumped from roof top to roof top, climbing higher and higher until he reached a building that over looked that of the Vatican. Such a mighty and well guarded compound. One that he was never sure he could handle, if he were to fight his way in. He looked down at the water around the bridge, and took a deep breath before taking a leap of faith from the building he was standing on, right into the water below.
After swimming to the other side without alerting the guards, he climbed along the base of the mighty compound, until he got onto the main pathway. He made his way through several group of cardinals, making sure to avoid the papal guards at every turn. If he were to run into one of them, he didn't know what would happen , but death would be a pleasant alternative. He took a deep breath, as he broke out of the current crowd of cardinals, and used a building lift to quickly get atop a tall structure. He looked down at the residence district of the Vatican. It sort of displeased him how the Church had so much, while the poor of the main city of Rome and Florence lift in such terrible conditions. Though that wasn't why he was here. He did not care for the material morals of the Vatican, but the fact that they were oppressing the flow of freedom and knowledge in this day and age. They fail to realize that the time of faith has passed, and now it was a personal matter, not a public one.
He began to look for the man in question. Luciano knew that the Cardinal was named Riccardo Sponaza, a man of noble heritage from Spain. He also knew that he kept several guards around him at all times, because of the recent assassinations of templars that have come to Roma, because of Ezio of course. Luciano spotted him instantly near a secluded part of the residency, two of his guards holding a man in what appeared to be scholarly attire.
"Please Misere! Don't do this! I will keep silent! I will not tell them -"
"We gave you enough warnings, my son. Warnings that you rejected." The Cardinal said, his red cloak blowing with a gust of wind. He did not sound all that phased or angered, but rather over joyed. Did he get some sort of sick pleasure from making this man cower in fear?
"I did not reject them! I-I was being fooled! I was being paid! I had no other choice!" The Scholar wheeped. He was a young man, one that didn't deserve such treatment.
"Relax my son, it is not bad to seek knowledge. However, making up wild theories about the sun and the stars and feeding those lies to the masses! Unforgivable! Heresy! Spitting in the face of the Vaticano, and the face of God!" The Cardinal exclaimed, his eyes narrowed. He pulled a dagger from within his robes, stained with some dried blood.
"It pains me to do this, my son. I am a voice of God, but I must also be his hand of discipline. If I let you go for this, others will begin spreading lies and disrupting our order." Riccardo said as he ran a gloved hand along the tip of the blade. Though before he approached the Scholar, a throwing knife landed in one of the guard's heads, killing him instantly, while the other received one in the leg. Regardless, the Scholar was let loose and he began to run.
"Ah, an Assassin." Riccardo muttered, still running his finger along the knife, turning to face Luciano who landed with a thump from the building he was standing on. He approached slowly, his hidden blade unsheathing with a quiet shling.
"What? No lecture? No speech? I'd assume you Assassins like to give life lessons. Speak some of your lies to me, my son. I'd like to hear what you fight for, in these dark times?"
"Words spoken to the dead are wasted." Luciano murmured as he began to run. His target got closer and closer, his blade almost being illuminated by the moon light when -
CRACK!
Luciano felt pain jolt through his shoulder and leg. Several more cracks were heard, but the bullets missed. Luciano turned his head to see Papal guards reloading their guns while they ran towards him. "Merda." Luciano whispered, as he made a run for it, looking back to Riccardo who was smiling pleasantly.
"God be with you my son! I urge you to pray as soon as possible, as you will not be able to run for long!" Riccardo shouted after him. Luciano hated to agree, but it was true. Those bullets were a bit larger than normal, and if they hit his vital organs, he would die within minutes! After running for a great deal of time, he made it to the other side of the Vatican bridge, and blended in with a crowd. The blood loss was immense, and his vision was blurring as a result. He fell to his knees and looked around at surprised citizens.
"Is he alright?"
"No he has been shot!"
"Why on earth is he wearing such odd clothing?"
"Is he a mad man?"
All the voices swirled around in his head, until he felt two arms hold him up. He looked to his left, and saw white clad, the same with his right. With that, he blacked out.
//
When he awoke, he was lying in a soft stray mat bed. He looked at the paintings along the walls for a moment, before his eyes widened and he jumped out of bed. Pain jolted all over his body, but he noticed fresh bandages around his shoulder and leg. He also noticed, that he was missing his cloak and dress shirt. He recognized this room, as well as much of the paintings that hung along the walls. The Rosa in Fiore.