Prologue:

During the third Crusade and the most valiant attempt by the Christians to reclaim Jerusalem, a plot to take down Saladin and the Saracens was brewed. The most unlikely of factions formed an alliance to defeat the common enemy. Those factions were the Templars and the Asasiyun. Both knew the impact of deception in war, utilizing false flag operations and propaganda, they led the Saracens to believe that they are enemies rather than allies. Little did everyone else knew what truly was in store for the holy land.
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January 1st, 1191

Masyaf

Sir Benjamin O'Connor, master interrogator of the Knights Templar, walked the path that led to the stronghold of the Hashashin, the famed Assassins of the middle east. He spared a glance at the two escorting him and hummed in acknowledgement to himself. The men were impressive, buildwise, but he wasn't impressed. Hardly anything impressed him anymore, not since he'd been introduced to the horrors war could bring. The horrors he could unleash, the unspeakable things his hands were capable of. They entered the doors, and he saw HER. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his 21 years of living. She was noticeably taller than he, or the men behind him, and he caught them whispering the word "Zarafa." They called her the giraffe, but this woman was nothing of the sort. Aside from her height, she was toned and muscular, nothing like the awkward, long animal she was named for. He ran a hand across his beard and opened his mouth to adress her. "<My lady>," he began in Arabic. "<My name is Sir Benjamin O'Connor, the Templar sent to your order. What, may I ask, is your name?" 

"<Faridah al-Buladi. Please do not call me Giraffe. Anyway, it is my pleasure to meet the Templar warrior sent to assist us in our most precarious mission. It will also be a pleasure working with your Order.>" Faridah responded to Benjamin after she gave an angry glare to those who called her a giraffe. She found the epithet more than a little demeaning and downright insulting. She assessed Benjamin as a vigorous, healty, and strong young man. Not unlike her, she also heard of his exploits as a Templar Paragon, just as she was a Paragon for the Asasiyun. Both their respective orders were confident that Faridah and Benjamin will handle the enemy with discretion. Saladin must be brought down. Any and all help and resources were welcomed.

Benjamin noticed her calm, and assessing eye. He felt oddly at ease, and yet, something in him told him he SHOULD be unnerved. This was the stronghold of Rashid ad-Din Sinan, the Old Man of the Mountain. She was obviously a skilled assassin judging by her tone and the way she carried herself, and yet, he had heard that women were not usually trained by the Hashashin. In any case, he was certainly interested in seeing what she could do. He picked up his helm from under his arm. With a casual flick of his wrist, almost buisnesslike, he tossed it to her. 

Faridah caught the helmet with a surprising amount of reflexes and alacrity. Ben himself was impressed, she was certainly fast. "I see you aren't slow." He said in english, wondering for a moment if she even knew the language, and internally cursing himself for not thinking to ask. "Oh no. I was trained to master my innate speed and precision. That's one advantage I had over the men I trained with." She chuckled slightly to cover her exhalation. English was a guttural language she knew well, but Faridah didn't like to speak it too often.Ben noticed the exhale, and decided to go back to speaking in Arabic. "<Aye, Milady, I can see that you have at least SOME training. The question is not whether thy knows't how to be quick and lithe, but of thine combat skills.>" Drawing his straight sword, he beheaded the two incompetents who had escorted him to the stronghold, with considerable speed and surprising skill. 

"<I am rather fond of utilizing one handed and throwing weaponry. That was an impressive deed you have done.>" Faridah points to her one handed Scimitar for armored enemies, her short dagger for skirmishes, a hidden blade for stealthy kills, and her throwing knives for range. "<Long, medium, and close range I like being prepared for all situations. My father is a blacksmith that forges high quality steel using Asasiyun secrets to supply to the Order and allies.>"
He nodded, and sheathed his sword, wiping the blade on his white tunic emblazoned with the Templar cross. "<Well, Lady Faridah al-Buladi, You know my name. Is there anything you might ask of me?>"

"<I was going to ask if you are aware of our ploy to take down Salah ad-Din. Would you like to be in the know of our plot?>" Faridah wanted Benjamin to be in on the plot so that the masquerade the Asasiyun and the Templars worked hard on would not be compromised. It was imperatave to keep the deception in order to make the enemy lulled into a false sense of security. "<The Asasiyun are willing to share with the Templars the plot. It will for sure bring Salah ad-Din to his knees.>" 
Ben nodded. "<Yes, our Grandmaster, Robert de Sable, filled me in on the way over here. He told me I am to be partnered with a Hashashin, and that we are to keep up the pretense that our orders are at war. in order to confuse or deceive Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub. He also informed me that I was to take up the guise of a Hashashin, live among you, and carry out secret missions and...interrogations.>"

"<That is correct. If they see Templars among us, our cover would be blown. The missions would be compromised and more bloodshed would take place. The mission is to have an amount of precision and secrecy to prevent rows and panic across the holy land. From what I have heard about you, I'm sure you have ways of making them talk.>"
Ben's eye twitched, and he grimly nodded. Faridah grinned because some bones will be broken to find out the weaknesses to attack. Perhaps after Salah ad-Din is disgraced and/or disposed of, a puppet can take his place.Benjamin nodded politely, a little ill at ease with his torturous ability, yet all the same, hiding a calm confidence born only as it can within a psychopath. He stood stock still, and waited for her to say something when the man himself, Rashid ad-Din Sinan walked down a flight of stairs his confidence as a man of power obvious despite his age. He walked down the last step and clasped a hand to Faridah's shoulder. "<Zarafa, I see you have met The Jackal, as he is to be called.>"

"<That I have. The operation is almost ready. You may dispatch us on your order.>" Though it may seem that Faridah is brown nosing, she was at a "take it or leave it" situation. Faridah decided to take the offers from Rashid ad-Din Sinan when presented. Faridah was well aware of her master calling her Zarafa. Normally she got angry, but with the master's different tone and context, it was a whole different meaning. She felt a majestic meaning behind Al Mualim's tone.