Connor Monologue – All Sounds of Assassin's Creed

William Johnson is dead – and with him the Templar plot to steal the land of my people. But in ending this threat, I have revealed another. On his body was a letter addressed to John Pitcairn, containing orders to root out and destroy Patriot weapons and supplies.

Should he succeed in this, the colonists will be unable to maintain their resistance and the Templars will surely take control. So long as Pitcairn lives, the danger remains.

I need to find him.

He needs to die.

These are troubled times. The already uneasy alliance between the Crown and its subjects frays. And behind them both the Templars plot, pulling strings and moving pieces.

History dictates they seek order through control. But how will they affect it here? Who supports them? And what conspiracies have they already spun?

All these things I must determine, for only by knowing my enemy can I hope to stop them.

Winter approaches. The air is still and sharp with grim expectation. The others sense it too, and go about their work with uncommon urgency. I would like to help them, but more pressing matters now demand my attention.

The Templars have targeted George Washington directly – and will not rest until he is dead. I had hoped to shield him from this knowledge, but Thomas Hickey ended any hope I had of staying silent. And so I have resolved to share everything I know – of the Templars and their plots – of who I really am.

Achilles finds fault in this, and we argue every day. But there is simply too much now at stake to maintain restraint.

My enemy is tenacious. When money failed them, they took to force. But I have slain Johnson and Pitcairn both, ending their plots. George Washington now rallies the colonists and their march towards freedom begins in earnest. Little wonder, then, that the Templars now want him dead. They seek to reshape this land into something cold and ordered. Something soulless. And he is an obstacle. I must save him, that his cause can flourish and my people remain safe.

But the more I prod, the greater the chance I am discovered. The Templars believe their men lost to the revolution. In their eyes, the Assassins are gone and scattered – no longer a threat. But I fear they will soon discover the truth and me along with it.

I must tread carefully…

The tides of war are turning. The Loyalists fall back beneath the advancing Patriot army, their hold on this land weakening by the day.

But the Templars only seem to grow stronger. Though fewer in number, the threat they pose appears undiminished. Making matters worse, Washington chose to spare the life of Charles Lee.

I am told he has taken refuge inside Fort George, and so my days are spent searching for a way to breach its walls. Of my father, there is no trace. And I am glad of it.

If I can be rid of Lee, there may still be a chance for reconciliation – and through it, peace.

I have been reunited with my father, but do not yet know if this bodes well or ill. Our goals are aligned, at least so far as independence is concerned. But he continues to defend Charles Lee – the man who murdered my mother and burned my village…

Still, he makes a point about Washington and those who back him. I hear much talk of freedom and equality, but it seems one must be a landed white man to benefit. What of someone like me? Or Surry? What role for us in this new world? Is my father right, then? There is so much I must consider and so little time in which to do it.

Mother. Father. I am sorry. I have failed you both. I made a promise to protect our people. I thought…I thought if I could stop the Templars, if I could keep the revolution free from their influence, that those I supported would do what was right. They did, I suppose, do what was right—what was right for them.

As for you, Father, I thought I might unite us, that we would forget the past and forge a better future. In time, I believed you could be made to see the world as I did—to understand. But it was just a dream. This, too, I should have known.

Were we not meant to live in peace, then? Is that it? Are we born to argue? To fight? So many voices—each demanding something else.

It has been hard at times, but never harder than today. To see all I worked for perverted, discarded, forgotten. You would say I have described the whole of history, Father.

Are you smiling, then? Hoping I might speak the words you longed to hear? To validate you? To say that all along you were right? I will not. Even now, faced as I am with the truth of your cold words, I refuse. Because I believe things can still change. I may never succeed. The Assassins may struggle another thousand years in vain. But we will not stop.

Compromise. That’s what everyone has insisted upon. And so I have learnt it. But differently than most, I think. I realize now that it will take time, that the road ahead is long and shrouded in darkness. It is a road that will not always take me where I wish to go—and I doubt I will live to see its end.

But I will travel down it nonetheless. For at my side walks hope. In the fact of all that insists I turn back, I carry on: this, this is my compromise.

Passage found in the Forsaken epilogue.

I never properly said goodbye to you. I was not ready. So here I am. The weight of my responsibilities never seems to diminish. There is always something else that needs fighting for. This is something you never warned me of, maybe because you thought I would have been deterred– you would have been wrong but I know you were not accustomed to that.

Life carries on here. The people seem happy– they are certainly safe, at least for now.

One of my brotherhood asked me something I have been struggling with, what happens if– when– we win? When we stop the Templars? It is a question I certainly do not know the answer to; perhaps you did not either.

I miss you. As I miss my mother. I hope all is well with you, wherever you are.

Goodbye, Old Man, until it comes time for me to join you– then I will bother you once again.

Time passed quickly after that – my days a blur of study, training, and work. What little free time Achilles allowed me was spent learning about the Templars. About Charles Lee and my father. I longed to confront them. To put an end to their schemes. To ensure my people would remain untroubled and free. But I knew it was too soon. That to approach them now would see me killed. All my work would be for nothing. Patience. Restraint. These proved the most difficult subjects for me. But in time I mastered them as well. Days became months. Months became years. And as my skill and knowledge grew – so too did I.

– Connor Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton

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So I trained. In running. In climbing. In fighting. In falling. And for every lesson that concerned the body, there were two that concerned the mind. Language. Philosophy. Logic. The Arts… Achilles taught most often of the Assassins and Templars. Their structures, origins, and purpose. Centuries of history condensed into a few short days… I told him of the men who had burned my village. Of Charles Lee and my promise to him. Achilles explained that Lee and his followers were Templars. And that they were led by none other than my own father. If I was to serve the Order, these men would become my targets. So I worked harder. Learned faster. But for all of my progress, it was clear that I still had much to learn. My training had only just begun.

– Connor Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton

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