Order has bred disorder. The sea rises to flood the pubs and extinguish the street-lamps. Our city will die. Twopenny has failed, Lucy has failed. Brudenell, Elliotson, Pearl. All have gone into the night. It is up to me now.
The Assassins have brought Nature’s fury into our houses. Men have become monsters, barreling toward us, teeth out.
Our civilization must survive this onslaught.
To prevent a return to the Dark Ages, I will start anew.
London must be reborn.
Jacob: You flatter yourself.
Starrick: I would have created a paradise.
Evie: The city belongs to the people. You are but one man.
Starrick: I am at the very top of the Order.
Jacob: You were, Mr. Starrick. You were.
When coldness or deceit shall slight The beauty now they prize, And deem it but a faded light Which beams within your eyes; When hollow hearts must wear a mask-
Templar: Mr. Starrick-
[BANG!]
Starrick: I told you not to disturb me!
‘Twill break your own to see: In such a moment I but ask. That you’ll remember me! That you’ll remember me…
This tea was brought to me from India by a ship, then, up from the harbor to a factory, where it was packaged and ferried by carriage to my door, unpacked in the larder and brought upstairs to me. All by men and women who work for me. Who are indebted to me, Crawford Starrick, for their jobs, their time, the very lives they lead. They will work in my factories and so too shall their children.
And you come to me with talk of this Jacob Frye? This insignificant blemish who calls himself Assassin? You disrespect the very city that works day and night so that we may drink this. This miracle. This tea.
“Miss Frye… may I have this dance?” – Crawford Starrick
All Sounds of Assassin's Creed 