Setting morality and respect for human life aside for a moment, and conceding that they're very laugha...sorry, laudable virtues, there's something terribly intriguing and almost mystical about the concept of an assassin, a person bred and trained to be a silent killing machine. I'm reminded of something my dad once said - “If you're up against a guy who's willing to give up his life to assassinate another, well there's no way you can realistically guarantee to stop him.”

Ah, but there's the rub. While you have good reason not to value your target's life very highly, there's no reason why your sense of self-preservation shouldn't remain intact. Live to kill another day, why not? That's what it boils down to in the end – how to eliminate your target and get out alive and non-compromised. Matters like consequences and repercussions aren't the assassin's concern; those rest solely with his employers. It's easy to see why the concept is so compelling – when we think about the ultimate crime, premeditated murder, being carried out in such an apathetic matter, it's hard not to peek in horrified fascination to get a glimpse of the person capable of such acts.

Film has romanced the notion of the emotionless sociopath assassin for quite a while now, and in the gaming realm, the Hitman series has milked the concept fairly fruitfully as well. Assassin's Creed, on the other hand, presents an different approach. And by different, I mean totally batshit crazy. First off, this is probably no state secret by now, but judging by all the preview videos we'd seen, you'd think it wasn't much of a stretch to assume we'd be playing an elite assassin operating in the Holy Land during the Crusades. But NO, when the French are handling the story, it's never that simple – you're playing some shmuck in the future who's reliving the memories of the medieval assassin. I think the Knights' Templar are involved, too – man, if those guys got a few bucks for every time they were used as a plot point, they'd make back all that money that Philip the IVth stole from them in no time. Now, this dual narrative layer is supposed to add an extra element of complexity to the plot, but in reality, all it does is give you some more boring unskippable dialog segments and ensure that quitting the game is more painful than getting a vasectomy .



Alright, so in the story-within-a-story, you play as Altair, a prodigious talent in the assassin's guild. Now, I'm just saying, if it were me running the guild, I'd see some value in being a bit circumspect, operating from the shadows, meeting in different places and generally behaving like a respectable killer. However, these pimps apparently beg to differ; seems like the first priority was, “Man, we need a sweet pad! Like that shit you see on Cribs!” So they set up base in a huge castle, complete with a training ground, library and a big-ass lawn. And it's on top of a fucking hill, visible miles around! Who do you think you are, astronomers? You're in the business of killing dudes – if the people who your actions annoy know exactly where you're chilling out, don't you think they might get in their heads to come knocking and start shouting about accountability? Sheesh. Not to mention, they're based right next to this small village called Masyaf. Don't the bumpkins there get even a little bit rattled, knowing that there's a lair of seasoned killers a stone's throw from where they sleep? I wonder what that does to real estate prices.

Anyhoo, Altair starts off by getting into a snafu and challenging some Templars head-on, instead of being a good backstabber. He gets his ass trounced, and his cohorts are also wasted. As punishment, he is killed by the guildmaster. Sort of. He is then resurrected somehow (the explanation was a bit too boring for me to pay attention to) and is stripped of his rank, his gear and...his moves? An interesting concept:

”Ok, you know how to perform the counter-feint, but you're not allowed to use it.”
“Huh? But what if I'm in...?”
“NO! Never!”

Yes, I'm nitpicking.