100 SUNS-- [markos]

[MARKOS JANS ZOON]

TELL ME WOULD YOU KILL TO SAVE A LIFE?

SUBJECT FILE I
ANCESTOR: JANS ZOON, MARKOS
THE REPUBLIC OF THE SEVEN NETHERLANDS
ASSASSIN

While we prepare to synchronize, please listen to the following questions. Be sure to report any difficulties you have answering. What is your name? Where do you live? What year is it? Good. You are now being synchronized with your Dutch ancestor Markos Jans Zoon. In Paris at the time of the French Revolution, he was part of the bloody battles that followed. There have also been tales of his connection to a strange artifact found in France at the time. We want you to observe and discover if these stories are true and report back to Abstergo officials.

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MEMORIES
PARIS, FRANCE
MEMORY BLOCK ONE (PETALES DE ROSE, JAMELLIA LEFEVRE)

INVENTORY
1x Hidden Blade
1x Assassin's Sword
1x Crossbow
1x Gun
10/10x Crossbow Bolts
15/15x Throwing Knives
5/5x Bullets

SYNCHRONIZATION
MODERATE.
No Injuries

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[MARKOS JANS ZOON]

I believe in nothing
Not the end and not the start.

I believe in nothing, not the earth and not the stars • Aquintances

Jamellia Lefevre- The first citizen to show me kindness in the city of Paris. At first, it seemed too good to be true. In the end, it seemed that she was a friend of the Assassins. Though she is a courtesan and I cannot say I have complete trust in her. I will wait to see how the dice fall.


I believe in nothing, not the day and not the dark • Friends




I believe in nothing, but the beating of our hearts • Love




I believe in nothing, not in sin and not in God • Brothers




I believe in nothing, not in peace and not in war • Enemies

I believe in nothing
But the truth in who we are

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[MARKOS JANS ZOON]

MARKOS JANS ZOON
- Assassin – Novice – Dutch –
”FRENCH.” ----- ”DUTCH.”

The rooftops had become too much. Markos had been born a noble; he had almost always had a bed and plenty to eat. In Paris, the exact opposite was what the young assassin had. The provisions that had been packed were eaten. The last three nights had been spent on residential roofs and on several occasions, he was chased off, French cuss words being thrown in his general direction. The end result of all this was Markos standing at an inn.

The owner was a portly Frenchman who stared Markos down with beady eyes. “Qu'est-ce?” The man demanded, he was obviously not pleased to see a dirty Dutch boy on his doorstep.

“Do you have room?" Markos’ French was broken at best, his accent made the words difficult to pronounce. His tongue tripped over the foreign sounds and a faint red crept across his cheeks. Out of one of the pouches across his belt, he drew a couple coins. Cautiously, he held out the collection to the man in hopes that it would be enough.

And judging by the owner’s expression, it was not. The yelling that followed that horrid face was less than desirable as well. Markos already had a difficult time translating French; it became impossible when words were coming at him with the speed of a horse.

“Désol-“ Markos began, apologizing in French when the door was slammed in his face.

“Verdomme!” He swore once out of sight of the inn. Sticking the measly amount of money back into the pouch, Markos continued down the street, head hung. “How the hell did I end up like this?” He mumbled and kicked the dirt. If he didn’t find one of his brothers soon, this would end badly.


<sub>1. Qu'est-ce?- What?
2. Désole- Sorry
3. Verdomme- Damn it!</sub>

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[center][color=1C0113] [font=Freestyle Script][size=6]MARKOS JANS ZOON[/size][/font]
- Assassin – Novice – Dutch –
[color=F03C02]”FRENCH.”[/color] ----- [color=A30006]”DUTCH.”[/color][/center]

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