Aliunde application
Player Information
Name: Mhairi
Personal LJ: uglytidings
E-mail: eyelinerkisses[at]hotmail[dot]com
AIM/Plurk/etc.: deathwailart @ both
Time zone: GMT
Other Characters: n/a
How did you find out about Aliunde? via holmes!
Character Information
Name: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Timeline Summary: after his defeat of Al Mualim and gaining the respect of the Order, pre Assassin's Creed: Bloodlines (so end of AC1 with the memory sequence from Revelations after his confrontation upon the burning of Al Mualim's body, please see link here)
Are you importing your character from another game? Nope
Background: History here
Personality:
When he was young, Altaïr was fairly close to his father Umar, also an Assassin (his mother having died in childbirth) as they shared the same rooms but Al Mualim did not believe in parental closeness so it is said that when Altaïr's parents passed, that it was like the passing of strangers. However, Altaïr's father was killed before him when he was young and his friend's father cut his throat in front of Altaïr due to his shame and guilt over revealing information that had led to Altaïr's father Umar allowing himself to be killed for the sake of the Order. But as a boy, Altaïr was shown to still be friendly to Abbas and indeed, they shared a room, took their lessons together and were shown to be good friends although Altaïr was forbidden by Al Mualim not to speak of Abbas' father or the true circumstances and his death. Being dutiful at that stage, Altaïr said nothing. Al Mualim was more of a father figure to Altaïr and soon he became the favourite of the master of the Order. Still, he eventually went against Al Mualim's advice, telling Abbas of how his father died which led to a bitter feud, both of them being put in a dungeon before Altaïr was allowed out to be an Assassin and Abbas made to wait a year. The grudge grew over the years and they never rekindled their friendship.
Overconfident in his skills, Altaïr became arrogant, leading him to believe that he knew better than those around him. He is demanding to those around him and expects them to do as they are told because he thinks he's better than them; he's also arrogant and impatient with those who are less skilled than him. He has no concern about taking the lives of others as he has killed so often as part of his work and thus has let go of the feelings that would lead him to guilt. He often reacted without fully thinking through his actions and the consequences - this is what led to the situation at Solomon's Temple resulting in him being stripped of his rank and Malik losing both his left arm and his younger brother Kadar. A rafiq Altaïr visited often spoke of the horrible things the other Assassin's said about him and at first, Altaïr said that he did not care about what they said although he is called upon in Masyaf by another Assassin Ra'uf to often aid in instructing students; attitude notwithstanding, it is likely that many Assassins are and were jealous of Altaïr's skill. Indeed, Malik's younger brother Kadar seemed to be very much in awe of Altaïr when they were in Solomon's Temple; he complimented Altaïr on the killing of an old man even though it violated the Creed, something Malik pointed out.
Altaïr was protective of his own life and the lives of those he commands when it suited him and he was cold, cool and confident. Altaïr was also stubborn, believing that he was right no matter what he was told and he did as he pleased even when he has been told something different or asked to do another thing and it took almost the whole game for him to take on any of the advice he'd been given although it was found out that the reasons were not his own but rather the control exerted over him by Al Mualim. Although with each assassination, he asked Al Mualim more questions regarding the last words of each victim, even going so far as to get annoyed with Al Mualim on occasion. However, Altaïr did express regret over Solomon's Temple to Malik from early on in the game but it took several visits before Malik began to treat him more kindly and to see that Altaïr was in fact changing to the point that Malik said that he was not the man he once was.
Near the end of the game is also where Altaïr's previous personality traits are fading being replaced by a calmer and more controlled nature. He becomes focussed on his mission, driven to complete each task and to find the next piece of information he might receive. He becomes more patient and more humble as he realises that the Creed and life and the world are bigger than him and the legacy he will leave behind. Despite all this and his cold and indifferent attitude to most things in his life, he did have a caring side underneath it all and he is known to have fallen in love twice which leads to the belief that his heart wasn't always as hard as he wanted everyone to believe; he fell in love with Adha prior to the events of Solomon's Temple and it is said that he fell in love with Maria Thorpe, Robert de Sable's steward, at first sight.
Al Mualim's death and the revelations of how the Order had been deceived in such a way had a profound effect on him as he was now the Grand Master of the Order and would have to be more responsible. He came into possession of a Piece of Eden and tried to counsel his brothers, restoring Order to Masyaf in the process even if he alarmed them by going against burial traditions by burning Al Mualim's body to be certain that it was not one of the phantoms he had battled against previously.
Gaining the respect of the Order as Grand Master though fully demonstrated the changes Altaïr had gone through and that he was reasonable, smart and dedicated to their cause and to the Creed; he had tempered himself, showing that he possessed wisdom, that he was calm and would not plunge into action senselessly and there was a drive and a focus to him to restore the Order and to make it better. However, there were still times when Altaïr's anger could get the better of him under situations of extreme stress such as much later in his life when Maria was killed and he used the Apple to attack. In the end of his life he was very much alone and isolated due to his depression and obsession with the Apple even though he grew to hate it. But again, his determination surfaced and he shaped the Order into what it would become, abandoning the Masyaf fortress and planning for far into the future before he went to die alone, satisfied that he had done what he could.
It is also worth mentioning that Altaïr kept a journal, his Codex that Ezio Auditore would gather together, that demonstrates more of his personal side as well as the fact that he was a very philosophical man underneath it all, something that is not demonstrated as often in the action portions of the game. (Note: he does speak of philosophy with Maria briefly in Assassin's Creed: Bloodlines.)
Powers, Skills, and Abilities:
Altaïr is a master assassin and instructor meaning he is capable of insane acrobatic feats, adept at social stealth and very very good at killing people. He can climb any terrain, leap from buildings using Le Parkour/Free Running all without any fear; he can even perform a Leap of Faith - a jump from a high vantage point into a pile of hay far below him. He has been trained in stealth assassination techniques, hand to hand and weapon's combat, blade throwing, climbing, eavesdropping, interrogation, pick pocketing and whatever else it takes to complete a mission. He also has extensive knowledge of the Holy Land and of religion. He speaks and understands English and Arabic. He has the ability to hide very well even in haystacks until it safe to emerge or blend in with crowds by walking as though he's a scholar.
He possesses numerous weapons such a one-handed longsword, a short blade, throwing knives and his hidden blade. The Hidden Blade is a blade located in a gauntlet Altaïr wears on his left arm and when the blade is open it rests between the little and middle finger where the ring finger should be with the ring on the little finger serving as the trigger to activate it.
He also possesses Eagle Vision, a sixth sense. Eagle vision allows Altaïr to instinctively see the affiliation of people in relation to himself. The Vision often colours people as thus:
Red - Soldiers or Enemies
White - Informants
Blue - Allies
Yellow - Objective or Assassination Target.
Altaïr was also the one to come up with the skills learned by Ezio in the Codex pages and other weapons derived from it; he stopped the removal of the ring finger (the traditional sacrifice for the hidden blade) and thus redesigned the hidden blade and believed that banning the use of poisons was foolish and so he designed a hidden blade to allow for poisons to be channelled through it. Together with Malik, he thought up the assassination techniques Ezio learns: aerial assassination, ledge assassination and hiding spot assassination.
So a summary in brief:
✘ badass parkour/freerunning
✘ epic fighting skills with hidden blade, dagger, longsword
✘ skilled marksman judging from accuracy with throwing knives
✘ pickpocketing
✘ eavesdropping
✘ eagle vision
✘ stealth in general
✘ horseriding
✘ knowledge of politics and religion of the Holy Land
Samples
First Person: Located here, ongoing
Third Person:
He could feel them pressing in on him even above the oppressive heat of Jerusalem, unwashed bodies crowding close in the back alleys as he made his way through the streets in search of a target, keeping to where it was less likely he would be disturbed by guards who kept a hand on the hilt of their swords at all times. No, the word was spreading and so he had to keep out of sight more than usual. The noise of the streets followed him, shouts from the vendors selling clothing, spices, weapons, pots, fresh meat, fruit and vegetables and whatever else drew a crowd of onlookers. It was always a trial to weave through the bodies, especially the women with pots precariously balanced, one wayward arm enough to cause the pot to smash upon the ground, angry shrieks and eyes, too many eyes, all on him. Thugs prowled, punching a fist into an open palm, jeering at him if he got too close; they never noticed his fingers skimming over their belts to pluck throwing knives when his supplies were low.
It was harder to avoid the drunks though. Or the destitute women who pleaded for money he didn't have. Or the poor souls with their minds in pieces who lashed out, grumbling, laughing and shoving, clutching themselves after. They prowled in these forgotten places, clung to it. When they came too close, close enough to hear and sense but not to see - the cowl is good for many things but not his peripheral vision - that is when he took to the rooftops, shimmying up ladders or up the sides of buildings.
Of course there were guards stationed on the rooftops, their presence growing as news spread of his deeds from city to city. But he had been trained to watch their movements since childhood and he waited, followed their path and either avoided them completely or struck. The hidden blade punching through a throat from behind, before they even knew they were not alone or a quick one-two of the throwing knives, to the back or rarely to the chest, enough to bring them down and leave them for the next rotation to find. Assuming they did not plummet to the street below sending up a terrified scream.
He should not be so amused that the guards so seldom think to look up, he thinks.
The world rushed by faster as he traversed the rooftops, the steady thump of his boots or body when he landed or rolled to take the impact, the whispers of his robes or the sharp crack when the wind caught them, the knocking of his sheathes as he moved. Every movement precise and balanced enough to reduce the noise to the bare minimum. No normal guards or even the Templars moved the way an Assassin did. He was close now judging from the sea of red below when he peered down, the guard presence heavier as he dispatched them efficiently, listening to the criers in the street, proclaiming the name of Salāḥ ad-Dīn, listing his deeds.
Dropping down, he cut through another alley, adjusting his hood, painfully aware of how many eyes might be on him at any given moment. He passed a group of vigilantes, relatives or friends of a woman he had rescued, who had thanked him even as the corpses of four guards lay at his feet, blood and entrails spilling out, some with limbs bent in unnatural ways. They nodded, he gave the slightest inclination of his head as recognition. It was good to have allies. He kept walking, pressing in through a throng of onlookers, parting them as best he could to move forward, to cut down his target, spotting a gathering of holy men also moving and he seized his chance to fall in line with them, hands clasped, head bowed, the slow step of the pious, burdened by their holy calling.
He looked up once, letting the rest of the world fall silent. No jeering crowd. No taunting Templar. No guards telling citizens to behave. Not even his own breathing as his eyes confirmed that this was the man, outlined in gold. He sprang from the holy men, surging forward, blade at the ready.
There was a reason some called them unholy demons. They moved in a way not taught, speed and strength, too precise, not an ounce of fear to be found and this one had no time to draw his weapon before cold steel pierced his neck, splashing over Altaïr's hand and then over his chest when he withdrew the blade, the mark gurgling and clutching his throat, eyes wide. So many of them looked like this, as if they could not comprehend that death had seized them. But there was no time to linger. The world that had stopped in shock awoke, buzzing, an angry hornet's nest and his blade slid away as he drew his sword, the exit cut off for now until panic dispersed the crowd. Guards charged, screaming at their comrades, screaming bloody vengeance upon Altaïr.
Let them come, he thought, grim smile on his face, I am ready.