You move through the crowded streets of Venice, it's roads bustling with life and laughter. The people though have an air about them behind their cheers. The city is weak and failing, all because of a new governor that has seated himself atop Venice's back. He harasses and viliffies the innocent, while protecting and empowering the villainous. To what ends, you cannot say.

Unbeknownst to you, a woman in white had been following you along the rooftops, her face concealed by the shadows that her hood casts. Suddenly, you hear the ring of a blade unsheathing sing throughout the air, and a great weight is put onto your back.

"Speak, Templar. Or your life blood shall paint these stones."