“What’s your name, lass?”
The North Atlantic, 1752. Three months since Shay Cormac turned his back on the Colonial Brotherhood. Three months since Lisbon shattered beneath his boots. Assassin--39-s Creed Rogue
“You,” she whispered. “The traitor. Shay Cormac.” “What’s your name, lass
“A chance. That compass will lead you to a small temple off the coast of Anticosti. Inside, you’ll find a carving of a man holding a sphere. Touch it. Feel what I felt.” “What’s your name
“Wait!” she cried. “What if I choose to hunt you instead?”