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They call him Shaykh-al-Hashishim. He is their Elder, and upon his command all of the men of the mountain come out or go in... They are believers of the word of their elder and everyone everywhere fears them, because they even kill kings.
— Benjamin of Tudela

The Order of Assassins or simply Assassins were a Nizari Isma'ili sect of Shia Islam located in Persian and Syrian. They are famous for their military tactics and assassinating important political figures. Assassins were fanatically loyal to their leader, carrying out his every order without the single thought of questioning him or hesitation. They were often born into the order and trained from an extremely young age in the arts of combat, disguises, horseback riding, and code of conduct. They would often assert themselves in the town or region of their targets, and over time stealthily move into strategic positions. They even assassinated kings. They didn't always assassinate their targets, sometimes leaving a threatening note saying to follow their demands or be killed. After their dissolution during the Mongol invasions, the assassins would go down in myth, and their names became the origin of the term "assassination".

Battle vs. Mohawk Warrior (by MilenHD)[]

In a calm spruce forest in North America, an Arab ship had landed a few hours ago and a lone Hashashin is exploring the nearby area and near the river a Mohawk Warrior was sitting and relaxing at the bank of the river and watching the stream and smiling. The Hashashin raised his recurve bow and aimed at the Mohawk and as he released his string and the arrow flied and missed the Mohawk by few inches.

The Mohawk got up as fast he can and fired his own bow at the Hashashin, but the Hashashin managed to ducked away and as both fired a few more shots of arrows the Hashashin pierced the Mohawk's leg wounding him. The Hashashin pulled his scimitar and advances at the Native American warrior, who raised his lance to block the Hashashin's blow of the scimitar with his spear point. As the Hashashin swung his blade three times, each of the blows connected with the lance and as last attempt to stab the Hashashin, the lance got sliced in half by the scimitar. As his lance was lost, the Mohawk pulled his knife and tomahawk duel wielding them against the scimitar. The Hashashin swung his scimitar, only to get disarmed by the tomahawk which blocked it and pulled it away alongside with the knife. The Hashashin started to retreat in the forest, while the Mohawk was chasing him, the Hashashin stopped, pulled his poisoned khanjar and waited at the bushes.

As the Mohawk comed closer, the Hashashin jumped behind him and sliced his chest, not enough to kill him but enough to spread the venom. The Mohawk threw the hashashin over his back and he managed to pierce the Arab's shoulder. Holding his shoulder in pain, the Hashashin still holds his khanjar as the Mohawk threw his tomahawk missing him and the Mohawk charged and rolled under the Hashashin grabbing again his tomahawk.

As the Mohawk swung again and disarmed the Hashashin, but in the next moment the Mohawk started to feel ill and unable to stand on his legs, he collapsed and the poison worked in the Hashashin's favour. The Arab walked with his straight dagger and shoved it into the Mohawks heart killing him. The Assassin had done his work and walked away into the dark spruce forest.

Expert's Opinion[]

While the Mohawk had more experience, but the falled in every category except short range and the Hashashin's poisoned blade is the icing of the cake, which won him this match.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs. Ninja and Sicarius (by Killermoves)[]

This warrior won an Ancient Battle of the Year Award


The sun rose, its golden radiance covering a settlement somewhere along the silk road. Even in the punishing heat, people from all around the globe, gathered and congregated, bringing with them produce to trade and sell. Different languages from both the East and the West, like Latin, Greek, Chinese, and Mongolian, filled the streets and marketplaces. Combined with the various colorful costumes these people wore, from tunics, skirts, pantaloons, and turbans, the place became a united multicultural nation. A simmering stew pot of unique flavors mixed haphazardly, creating a chaotic yet highly savorous taste.

Inside an adobe inn, a lone man wearing a steppe dress and yak fur hat, prayed. He knelt down on a rug and bowed, his head and arms facing the ground. In full submission to the Lord, of the mission he would undertake, he prayed for strength, he prayed for success. He stuttered as he prayed, as dread spread throughout his soul, torturing his mind and body. He was now a mere ember flicking on a wick, not knowing if he would continue to burn or be extinguished. This was his life right now, the fate he chose, which he surrendered to Allah many years ago.

He was a hashashin tasked to commit a great assassination of a foreigner. He knew little yet on how he would be able to commit the grand murder. But he was there nonetheless, no questions asked; he already had with him his long poisoned jambiya. Even as he trembled upon the great challenge, he reassured himself that Allah lived in him. That Allah would guide him. And that Allah would support only the bold and the righteous. Their enemies spread lies about them using hashish and other black magic for their missions. But he only needed Allah and Allah alone.

Near another building three streets away, a buddhist monk wearing a straw hat and exotic blue robes, stood and hummed. On his staff were small bells that rang whenever he shook it, ringing and chiming as passer-bys went. He would ask for donations from the kindly and compassionate. There’s money to be made if he could catch their attention. But the man was not there to just earn some alms. It was all a cover to remain inconspicuous. No one would want to hurt a poor hungry monk, even if that monk was secretly a ninja tasked to kill one poor sap.

The ninja was far from home, in a barbaric world with alien food and customs. The arid environment was something to get used to, not to mention the acrid smell of foreign sweat and spices. Yet, he had no choice for he was sent there by his daimyo. And though he too didn’t know how, he had to do it, in order to earn his rice and keep. If he succeeded, hopefully he’d get fief or be a vassal. Who knew? Maybe he’d be more; far far more than that.

A block away in a plaza where people came to rest and chatter, a devious man wearing a tunic and a large cloak, scanned and observed. He would smile and chuckle at these little parasites walking about, enjoying their lives and wasting coins, ignorant of the people outside starving and dying. He came from a land far away, opressed worse than an old abused farm horse. They were conquered by Sammael’s vermins, who came out of the Mediterranian, parading themselves in armor. These foreigners, who called themselves Romans, brought nothing but grief, suffering, and death. But their occupation and oppression would not last long anymore. His mission today would hopefully free them from their tyranny.

The land he was in belonged to a mighty empire, as powerful and large as Roma. And they had the richness and technology that could potentially destroy that seat of evil. All he had to do right now was to incite chaos in this meek community, belonging to one powerful member of this empire’s oligarch. He brought with him Roman sica knives and garments, to make it look like the latter had declared war and drew first blood. Hopefully, a large war between the two would begin, and hopefully it would end in Rome’s destruction.

However, intelligence from his people told him that there were some who would try to stop him. Not Romans, but a bunch of foreigners who were anxious that a war between the Italians and the Chinese would be so great, that it would spill and cause death to their lands as well. Scholars, wise men, and even oracles and prophets, spoke of such a world war that would be far worse that any war that was ever seen. A conflict so massive, its shadows of death would engulf the world, leaving millions dead, with decadence soon to follow. Hence why many would want it stopped.

They could try. But they’d have to find and kill him first. The man, a sicarius from Judah, was ready for anyone who would try to stop him. Anyone who would try to destroy their plans. Anyone who would attempt to destroy their dreams of freedom.


It was late afternoon, probably only an hour before evening. A time where the streets were most busy with people who had finished their jobs, now going about buying dinner or heading home. The sicarius was still in the plaza, excitement flowing all over him as he witnessed the number of people increase and bloat. Hours watching the area gave him the knowledge of the best places to strike, as well as the best places to slip away. With darkness coming soon, getting away would be less difficult.

It was now or never. He must not waste the adrenaline and zealotism running strong in his veins. He made a deep inhale before heading out into the crowd.

As he went, the ninja watched from a far. He had already located his quarry a few hours ago with the information given to him and those he gathered himself. But he continued to wait and procrastinate. He was unsure of what he could and should do. This was different from how he usually did things. While he had his wakizashi strapped to his waist, his fingers softly touching its grip, he had not committed this kind of murder in such a circumstance before. The idea of diving into a throng of barbarians made one who was accustomed to isolationism sick. The ninja himself could feel the pressure puncturing his heart and making it bleed. Still not knowing what to do, he decided to stand down and think more of this through.

From another corner of the plaza, sitting on a bench together with a couple of strangers, the hashashins too kept track of the two. Those fools were smack-dabbed into the point of no return, dangling on a cliff that led nowhere but certain death. One was ready to dive head first, while the other wept as if life itself planned to drop him against his will. Still, it was sort of entertaining, in a dark and twisted way, watching them attempt to perform this play. The hashashin knew his part as well. It was now a matter of patience how he would conduct it to get the most applause.

There was a cry, followed by another and another. Soon, cries from a thousand languages echoed in the air, followed by great thrashing and stampeding feet. The sicarius pulled his sica away from a Chinese elder’s chest, and the man fell where the others laid. On the dusty ground were a great pool of blood. Besides the old man, was a young boy whose neck was slit, a young girl weeping as her face was sliced in two, and a pregnant woman clutching her left side in pain.

With his deed done, the sicarius raised his arms and yelled the most Roman thing he could think of. “Sic semper tyrannis!” he yelled before dropping his blade and running away into the alleyways. He would further strip himself of his garments, wiping the blood off of him as well, until he only wore a simple one-piece tunic. He ran a further distance away before finding the nearest crowd to hide and blend in.

The night would then be filled with fear, as news of the terroristic act further spread, and the settlement became beset by roving armed prefects. No one dared to come out into the street and become the next victim of the sicarius’s knife. Hopefully, his act, as well as the knife and garments he left behind, would be evidence of a Roman incursion. When he went back to his inn, he added more to his body count by killing the innkeeper and his family. He then rested in his room, which was also jam-packed with Roman wares, including armors, fake letters, and more sica daggers. Their discovery would further fan the vengeful rage of the Chinese.

Now at peace, the sicarius smiled for doing a job well done. Getting out of the settlement would be as difficult as stuffing a Roman bastard inside of another Roman bastard. But hell, he’d already accomplished his mission. The sicarius wouldn’t care what would happen to him. All he cared was what would happen to his people next. It would be another long and bloody struggle, but at least, freedom would be near, and the destruction of Rome assured.

It was a shame though, for he was also waiting for the ones who were supposed to stop him. He was actually prepared to die in that street. Yet, narry a sound, a sight, or even just a slight disturbance was present. The sicarius did not know whether to be relieved or be disappointed. Guess he was expecting more to happen today. Maybe Yahweh had other plans for him in store. May He be praised by a thousand nations.

Suddenly, the sound of a curtain falling to the floor entered the sicarius’s ears. He jerked back, a sica in his hand, only to meet the stroke of a glistening steel. The ninja slashed his wakizashi with great force upon the sicarius’s neck. Although it only managed to get half-through, it was enough to cut both bone and vocal cords. No screams came out of the sicarius’s mouth; his face bearing the look of a shocked idiot. The moment he fell to the floor, the ninja followed up with another chop, severing his head completely from his body.

The ninja then sheathed his sword and tried to catch his bread. Blood continued to spill and puddle, with little trickles seeping into the boards and raining down on the floor below. Blood, however, was not of the ninja’s concern. Getting his hands and feet bloodied was part of the course. The damage had been done and killing the sicarius was only one part of quenching the fires of rage. After a brief rest, the ninja unstrapped a parcel made of waterproof goat skin. He took out a letter that was written in Chinese, signed by their own Chinese ambassadors and officials, telling those who would read it that the attacks were a setup. That the man was not a Roman and the Romans had nothing to do with the crimes.

It would be a long shot. Who knew if the Chinese would buy it. But they had to try. They had to hope that the wanting for peace far outweighed the thirst for blood. And if this one failed, the ninja believed that the shogun would know what to do. He did worry about the prospects of whether he’d still be allowed to keep his head intact after this. But what’s done was done.

The ninja didn’t bother going downstairs. He decided to continue with the safest route — escaping through the rooftops. He got out of the window and dropped to the next house. He then jumped off unto another building, grabbing a window sill, and climbed up. He kept moving from one nearby building to another, until he came upon an abandoned one, with a broken down rooftop greenery that would serve well as a place of refuge. It was too dangerous to go out into the streets; better to stay put and rest for the night.

A new morning came and people were back outside. Dread still permeated in the atmosphere and prefects continued to roam and question people. The ninja came down from the building and walked away. He glimpsed at the inn where he killed the sicarius, now filled with people buzzing around. Someone had already discovered the bodies. Hopefully, they would be able to do a proper investigation. The ninja then came upon the plaza where the attacks took place. The bodies were gone but blood was still in the dusty ground. Markers were placed as signs of respect for the dead.

Afterwards, he continued to the stables to get his horse and ride towards the port. He couldn’t wait to finally get back to Japan — back to his family and back to his daimyo. If he was going to die, he’d rather be in the land of the rising sun.

The ninja suddenly felt a sharp pain that crippled him. A knife had lacerated his whole thigh, severing muscles and a femoral artery. Screaming, the ninja knelt down as he grasped his leg. He then felt another powerful pain in his chest, and looking down, he saw a jambiya knife jabbed right through him. The ninja made one final gasp before dropping to the ground. As he looked at the sky, sensing life leaving his body, he could hear the screams of the citizens, and the breathing of someone nearby.

Eye to eye, the hashashin and the ninja stared at each other. Complete strangers in this strange world who were currently in shadow conflict against each other. In full view of the ninja, the hashashin took off his cloak, revealing himself to be wearing a Roman lorica segmentata armor — the same one inside the Sicarius’s room. He also took out from his pocket the same letter that the ninja brought with him, which the hashashin tore into tiny little pieces in front of the ninja’s eyes. Soon, the ninja died, and the hashashin could hear the thundering footsteps of prefects and soldiers coming towards him.

The armed Chinese shouted at him, mostly curses and threats. The hashashin understood them well and he could feel the hatred in those words they sent. The Chinese were angered beyond forgiveness. The sort of anger that made one so enraged they didn’t know right from wrong anymore. The sort of anger that caused genocide on a scale that was inhuman and demonic. The sort of anger that even Al Shaitan would blush from. The Chinese wanted blood from those responsible, and right now the hashashin, the prime suspect, would satisfy this bloodlust.

Without fear, in full calmness of mind, the hashashin raised his arms and praised Allah in Latin. He then spoke to the Chinese in their own language, dishing out his own curses and insults. He stated that he, and the sicarius, the one who committed those murders and the one found dead inside that inn full of Roman wares, were Romans. He added how their fellow Romans, and the Roman Empire as a whole, despised the Chinese. How they were disgusted of them. How they consider their culture inferior. How deformed their people were and how bug-like they were. How filthy the pigs they called their women were. How dumb they were to the point that they wouldn’t recognize their mothers from their wives.

Finally, the hashashin ended his inflammatory poetry with the declaration that the Italians would love to come there and wipe their people off the face of the Earth. And how they were already planning to do it and he was only an appetizer.

The prefects had lost their minds. Reason was thrown out; civility dissolved in their hearts. They became more like animals than people after that scornful speech. And this was what the hashashin wanted. The prefects then charged with their swords, spears, and halberds. They skewered the hashashin in the gut, chopped off his limbs, and lopped off parts of his skull. Being ripped to shreds was not always quick. Anyone that angry would want to prolong the suffering of the accursed, and make sure to not leave any area of the skin uncut.

But for the hashashin, it didn’t matter. He had made his people and Allah proud. He had made the former rich too. The Judeans would give the rest of what they owed to the Old Man of the Mountain for his performance. And whoever and whatever nation would die in the upcoming war would be none of their concern.

Expert's Opinion[]

The hashashin was crowned the deadliest ancient hitman for his superior ability to disguise himself, use language, and blend in. He was also the better trained and most experienced when it comes to assassination between the three.

The ninja didn’t lag behind, and some noted that he was the best when it comes to gathering information for an assassination. He also had one of the best weapons and was more advanced. However, his lack of training and experience in all manners of assassination cost him in the end.

The sicarius was placed in last place due to the fact that they were less experienced, less disciplined, and were not as sophisticated as the hashashin and the ninja.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

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Battles here were deemed to be unfair or otherwise not in accordance with wiki standards, and have been removed from the statuses of the warriors and displayed below.

Battle vs. Sicarii (by Guitarcar)[]

Neon: Welp, I time travelled a bunch of hashashins and told them to kill the sicarii inside the town.

Recon: Whatever. Start the Godamn battle already.

In a hot afternoon in Jerusalem, 5 Hashashins make their last rites before getting to their job. The Hashashin's then make a plan and spread out.

1 Hashashin spots a Sicarii. He then walks next the Sicarii and attempts to slice his neck with his khanjar when he feels a sharp pain in his chest. The hashashin looks and sees the Sicarii's cloak on his chest, a pugio is inside the cloak. The Hashashin shouts "The Blue cloak!!!" and then collapses on the ground. (1 Hashashin dead)

The Sicarii walks away casually as a group of leggionnaires inspect the Hashashin's corpse. 2 hashashin then walks to an alley when one Sicarii armed with the iconic Sica walks towards a Hashashin and stabs him in the back (1 Hashashin down). 

The other Hashashin is shocked by this and unsheates his Scimitar. The duel shortly ends in one stroke and a Sicarii falls down dead. (1 Sicarii down).

The Hashashin then climbs up a building and spots the blue cloaked Sicarii. He snipes the Sicarii causing multiple people to run away (1 Sicarii down). The hashashin then aims his bow again and kills another Sicarii who was aiming his sling at him (1 Sicarii down). The Hashashin then climbs down only to be spotted by the Roman urbanae and is cut down shortly (1 hashashin down).

The 2 Hashashin then realize that anyone could be a Sicarii. The 2 then proceed to kill a random beggar on the street, he dropped a pugio. (1 Sicarii down) The Hashashin then quickly evade the oncoming Guards.

The 2 then starts going nearer to another Beggar and stabs him. Wrong target, but the beggars scream alerted the Sicarii nearby. The 2 Hashashin then started walking in a hurry but before they could reach a place near the Urbanae, One of the Hashashins drop dead out of nowhere. (1 Hashashin down)

The last Hashashin spots the Sicarii who did it and engages him with his khanjar in pure rage. The 2 engage in hand to hand combat in the middle of public. The Hashashin ends the engagement and stabs the Sicarii's eye with his khanjar (1 Sicarii down). The Hashashin then continously runs and climbs a tower while being chased by the Urbanae.

The Hashashin then jumps on a haybale from 6 stories above the tower, evading the guards in the process. The Hashashin then snuggles perfectly inside the haycart as its pulled by a farmer away from Jerusalem. The Hashashin then sighs in relief, he managed to survive the ordeal.

But the Hashashin's vision goes blurry out of nowhere. He looks around the hay and sees blood seeping out of his crotch. 

The last thing the hashashin saw and heard was a sicarii dressed as a farmer pulling out his Sica out of his private area. The Sicarii then laughs as the Hashashin dies from the poison. (1 Hashashin down)

Neon: Welp, that was bloody. I was betting on the Hashashin due to his superior metalurgy

Recon: You do realize the Sicarii assasins were better suited to an assasination match. Not even the Hashashin could see the perfectly normal looking Sicarii coming.

Expert's Opinion[]

Recon: he Sicarii assasins were better suited to an assasination match. Not even the Hashashin could see the perfectly normal looking Sicarii coming. The Sicarii's weapon also suited them better for this match

To see the original battle, weapons and votes, click here.


Battle was declared invalid because the Sicarii were given weapons they did not use.

Ancient Spec Ops Battle Royale (by BattleGames1 and Goddess of Despair)[]

It is in the late afternoon at the peninsula and atop a cliff overlooking the expanse of forest that lay near the shoreline of the peninsula stands an Aztec Eagle, admiring the sun set in a spectacular array of colours over the sea. Whilst looking down upon the sea, he notices something that catches his attention. A strange-looking ship has docked itself upon the shoreline and a man in shining gold armour has touched down onto the beach, seemingly searching for something. A close scrutinising (surprising for a person who is actually some distance away from their target) from the Eagle registers this individual as a threat, perhaps a scout for an invasion force. The Eagle then draws out a Yāōmītl arrow and loads it onto his Tlahuitolli. Taking his time, the Eagle - with a clear vantage point from atop the cliff - tries to aim for an accurate shot at the armoured man down below. A smile appears on the Eagle's face once he has laid his sights on the perfect opportunity. Unbeknownst to the Eagle, a Huskarl is walking across the grassy plain behind him - throwing axes in one hand, his Dane axe in the other, longsword sheathed away in his belt and the spear and shield tucked to his back. He, like the Marine on the shore, is looking around and checking his surroundings. The huskarl then spots a strange sight before him - something round and full of colours and feathers lay before him. Thinking this is some shield that a threat of his is cowering behind, the huskarl sets his Dane axe carefully on the ground and prepares to throw one of the throwing axes. As the huskarl tries to get a good aim, he sees the shield shake and hears the sound of an arrow being fired. Down on the shoreline, the Marine continuing to walk along the shore with his spear in one hand, shield in the other and the other weapons behind his back dodges out of the way just in time as an arrow almost hits him in the foot. Looking to see where the shot came from, the Marine looks up and notices an oddly-shaped figure standing high above him. Before the Marine can draw out his bow, the Eagle fires another arrow at him. This time the arrow hits and is deflected off the Marine's hoplon. Annoyed at this, the Eagle prepares another Yāōmītl arrow. Before he could load it onto his Tlahuitolli, the Eagle is startled when he hears metal attaching itself to wood. Looking behind his shoulder, the Eagle is stunned to see an axe embedded onto the shield. A complete turnaround reveals the Eagle to Huskarl who throws another axe at him. The Eagle counters the throw with another block from his shield. A third axe throw from the huskarl manages to slash the Eagle in the thigh but the blow is not big enough to injure the Eagle. Before the Huskarl can throw another axe, the Eagle fires his Tlahuitolli and manages to hit the Huskarl on the side causing the Saxon to fall down in pain. Using this distraction wisely, the Aztec Eagle prepares his Atlatl & Tlacochtli and aims it ready to finish killing off his opponent. Down below on the shoreline, the Marine sets down his spear in the sand and prepares his bow and arrow ready for firing, aiming for the silhouette atop the cliff. Taking his time, the Marine aims for the Eagle's head. However, his aim soon becomes disoriented when from out of the trees, a throwing knife whizzes by, causing the arrow to instead hit the rock. Just as the arrow from the Greek composite bow hits its target, the Eagle fires off his dart at the Saxon. Unfortunately for the Eagle, the Saxon manages to get up and the tlacochtli dart just hits the huskarl's helmet, dazing the Saxon as he pulls out the arrow out from his side. Not having enough time to load another tlacochtli dart, the Eagle grabs his shield and jumps to the side, managing to roll onto the grassy slope. As the huskarl readies his spear, he scouts around, looking for where the Eagle had gone. Taking a few steps backwards, he sees some feathers rustling down the incline - it is the Eagle and he is heading for the forest. The huskarl, wanting to hunt down the coward, chases down after him into the forest. At the same time, the Marine is taken aback when the knife came out from nowhere in the forest. He fires an arrow towards the trees, hoping to take down the assailant. But there was no cry that came out - he missed again. Taking his sword out of the sand, the Athenian Marine cautiously sneaks his way into the woods, hunting down his enemies.

The eagle rushed through the forest, jumping over fallen logs. The Huskarl pursues the Aztec, with his spear and shield ready. The eagle, hearing the Huskarl behind him, grabs a Tepoztōpīlli leaning against a tree. He turns and thrusts into the Huskarl’s shield, the Huskarl thrusts his own spear into the eagle’s side. The Huskarl rams his shield into the eagle, causing him and his spear to fall to the ground, slamming into a log. The Huskarl thrusts his spear at the eagles head, but the attack misses and the eagle manages to scramble to his feet. He reunites with his spear but the two quickly separate when he throws his spear at the Huskarl. The spear hits with enough force to knock the shield away from thw Huskarl. The jaguar sprints for his Macuahuitl, which lies in a bush. The Huskarl doesn’t allow this and throws his spear, which dug into the Aztec’s leg. He fell slamming his head onto the Macuahuitl. The Huskarl approaches the eagle but quickly turns his attention to an object emerging from the bush. He steps back lifting his great axe. Emerging from the bush was a man encased in gold, at least that’s what the Huskarl thought. He decided that by killing the man he could sell the armor but his mind quickly shifted its attention to a bolt that slams into a nearby log. Suddenly as the marine left the bush the roman centurion was yelling at the top of his lungs, charging armed with his pilum and scutum (shield). The three warriors formed a triangle of armor and flesh, each daring the other to make a move.

FIRST OUT: Aztec Eagle

From up above in the trees, the Hashashin espies the stand-off and waits for one of the men to make his move. After a couple of seconds, the huskarl charges at the Marine holding his Dane axe high into the air for a swing. Before he could get a chance, the Hashashin throws one of his knives, slashing the huskarl in the lower leg. The three combatants look up to see who threw the weapon and see the Hashashin, perched upon a branch getting ready to throw another knife. The Roman attempts to fire his pilum but the Hashashin manages to dodge it easily. The Hashashin counters with another knife throw but the Centurion blocks it with his scutum. Taking the opportunity, the Marine charges at the Centurion with his hoplon but the Centurion runs away into the forest before the Marine could have a chance. The Hashashin too runs off in pursuit of the Centurion. The Marine now looks towards the Huskarl who has just gotten up and is still wielding his Great Axe. Staring at him coldly, the Athenian again charges at him with the shield. The huskarl runs in and out of the trees while the Marine continues hitting his hoplon at nothing but trees.

Meanwhile, the Hashashin continues to follow the centurion as he makes his way back to the scorpion. Watching as the Centurion load another arrow bolt into the machine, the Hashashin readies his recurve bow. The Centurion aims at the tree tops hoping to get a quick fix at the silent assassin. Taking aim with the bow, the Hashashin aims for the Centurion's stomach. The leaves behind him begin to rustle, to which the Centurion responds by firing his bolt at the Hashashin. The bolt barely misses the assassin as he fires his recurve bow, managing to scrape the leg of the Centurion. The Centurion unsheathes his gladius, hoping that the assassin would drop from the trees ready to fight. But what came out of the trees was a few more arrows, to which the Centurion barely manages to dodge and block with his scutum. The centurion, thinking he can fight fire with fire, takes out his arcus and fires a few shots into the trees, missing the hashashin every time. The next arrow the Centurion fires is a lucky one because it barely missed the Hashashin but it caused a fuse on a ceramic grenade to ignite. Next thing he knows, the centurion sees the incendiary grenade being thrown, hitting the scorpion and setting it as well as the surrounding area on fire. By now it was dark and the blast from the incendiary grenade was bright enough to give the Centurion and the Hashashin a clear view of where each other was. The hashashin finally jumps down from the trees and unsheathes his scimitar. Eyeing down his opponent, the Centurion charges at him with his sword. The hashashin gets the first swing though, but it is blocked again by the scutum. The Centurion counters with another swing but the Hashashin dodges it. After a few more moments of dodging, swinging and blocking, the Hashashin gets the upper hand. Even though he could not slash through the tough armour of the Centurion, the Hashashin managed to kill the Centurion with a stab to the neck. The centurion, reeling from the immense pain, stumbles back onto the fire - eventually burning away like a microwave oven thanks to the armour. Looking at his fallen opponent and his burning (now almost wrecked machine), the Hashashin puts away his sword. The fire and fighting he has started would have certainly attracted the attention of the huskarl and the Marine so the Hashashin climbs up to the top of a tree that hasn't been burnt yet and draws his bow, lying in wait for his next victim.

SECOND OUT: Roman Centurion

Some miles away from the fight between the hashashin and the centurion, the Huskarl keeps running, trying to get away from the Marine who was chasing him. At any given moment, the huskarl would throw one of his axes at the Marine, but in the dark, it was hard to tell where the axes landed. Eventually, the huskarl reaches an open alcove - and a dead end. He drops the Axe and unsheathes his spear and shield in anticipation. Sure enough, the Athenian Marine jumps out from the trees - hoplon in one hand still intact and his dory spear in the other. Like before, the two warriors stare each other down trying to intimidate each other to strike. And like before, the Huskarl with his huge axe charges at the Marine. This time, the huskarl successfully swings his axe at the Marine. However, this blow is blocked by the shield. Before the Marine can swing the dory and pierce the side of the huskarl through his armour, the Huskarl dives and rolls to the side. The Marine then charges in again, this time holding out the dory. Agile to get on his feet, the huskarl draws out his longsword and slashes the dory in two. Put in a bad position, the Marine stumbles back and unsheathes his kopis. The two warriors begin to clash swords, each blocking each others blows (sometimes also using the shields). After a fierce duel where the most the two swordsmen could do was wound each other, the Marine has an idea. As the huskarl prepares another thrust with the longsword, the Marine swings his hoplon fast enough to not only block the strike but, after a few milliseconds of struggling, send him flying back to the ground with a huge thud. The huskarl, regaining his senses, sees the Marine running away back into the trees. Seeing this as a sign of cowardice, the huskarl gets back on his feet and picks up his great axe. With a loud yell, the Saxon charges in the Marine's directions. Suddenly from out of the trees, an arrow strikes the huskarl in the knee. The huskarl kneels in pain and drops his axe; before he knew, another arrow came flying out, this time fatally hitting the huskarl in the neck and killing him instantly.

From behind some bushes, the Marine stands up, satisfied he has earned his kill. Suddenly a bright light flashed in his direction... the light source was a fire ignited inexplicably (to the Marine that is) from where he was earlier. Then a loud scream rang throughout the air (the one of the Roman Centurion as he is stabbed in the neck). Sensing trouble, and where his last enemy lay in wait, the Marine put away his bow, unsheathed his sword, and cautiously walked towards the fire.

THIRD OUT: Huskarl

Moving towards the source of light, the Athenian looked around, hoping to espy his target. He looks further in and sees the Centurion's burning corpse in the mix. Not knowing what caused this madness, he suddenly jumps out of the way as an arrow flies out from the trees. Rolling on the ground, more arrows come flying out from the trees. The Marine sees where this battle is going when his cape gets caught amongst the flames. Quickly taking it off, the Marine rushes away from the Hashashin's POV and heads into the forest, quickly retreating to the trireme on the shore. The hashashin, annoyed at this turn of events, hops from tree to tree hoping he can catch up. As the Marine kept running closer and closer to the shoreline, the Hashashin was hopping from tree to tree flicking his throwing knives the Marine - and they either end up hitting the Marine's armour or a tree - until he has no more. Finally, both combatants reach the shoreline. Turning back towards the forest, he waits in patience for the Hashashin to come out ready to play. Sure enough, the Arab assassin reveals himself, scimitar at the ready in one hand, a ceramic grenade in another. The Marine draws his bow and shoots the ceramic grenade before the hashashin could have a chance to light it up. Filled with a raging fury, the Hashashin runs forward and wails his sword about. A strike from the scimitar would have been deadly but the Marine, just in time, blocks it with his kopis. The Marine then flings the Hashashin away with his hoplon, sending the Arab rolling across the sand. Quick on his feet, the Hashashin gets up on his feet and again charges at the Marine, which then leads the two to engage in a fierce sword duel. Some of the the marine gets the upper hand and at others, it is the Hashashin who does - and on both occasions, their opponent slammed them into the ship's hull.

Eventually, after countless attempts at trying to kill each other, the Hashashin and Marine tire out, but the Hashashin, determined as he can be, swings his scimitar at the Marine's head hoping to get a clean sweep. Unfortunately, the helmet manages to provide more than adequate protection that allows for the Marine to do the same neck slash movement the Hashashin tried to use, only this time, the Hashashin's head is cleanly cut off.

As his opponent's head gets washed away into the ocean, the Marine stares up into the moonlight and yells "For Athens" as he raises his kopis in victory.

LAST OUT: Hashashin

WINNER: Athenian Marine

Expert's Opinion[]

The majority of votes placed the Eagle in last place and it is no surprise why the Eagle loses out this easily - the other warriors had weapons made a of a more durable material (in this case metal over wood and obsidian), and despite the shield, not much protection was offered by the Eagle's cotton armour.

The votes placed the Centurion somewhat close to last (either last or second-to-last) because despite the iron weapons he possessed, the Centurion (as also shown on DW) was more a formation fighter than a solo fighter and without his fellow legionaries to help him out, the Centurion just wasn't able to hold out against the other warriors.

The huskarl was a very formidable opponent with weapons and armour that are of a superior metallurgy over the others (save the hashashin) but he wasn't that great a match over the Marine and Hashashin. The Dane Axe held by the Saxon in this battle was very effective but his lack of an effective long-ranged weapon and his longsword not being able to get past a shield like the hoplon are what caught this warrior out.

The hashashin was a very formidable opponent and he was the most technologically sophisticated of all the warriors and had a sword that matched the kopis but what made the Athenian Marine win this battle is the combination of effectively good weapons and his durable armour and shield; the Marine was also trained for both formation and one-on0one fighting on the front lines of combat whereas the hashashin was basically a mastered and skilful assassin - once the Athenian drew him out of hiding, the hashashin's advantage was gone. If this battle is unfair in any way, shape or form, then you can go ahead and do a rematch.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.


The battle has been declared invadlid because the legionaries were given a bow, a weapon they never used.

Battle vs. Harii Warrior (by Tomahawk23)[]

So normally in a reality match up I try to at least give a reason as to why these two warriors are fighting. Unfortunately, the Germanic Ghost Warrior existed from the 6th century to the 9th century. Hashashin (as an actual order) 11th-13th centuries. (The last Hashashin is believed to have died out in the 1500's).

5 Germanics walk towards the Castle of Masyaf during the reign of The Man of the Mountains under the cover of night hoping to assassinate him.

Unknown to the Germanics, the Hashashins were well aware of this plot, and had made preparations As they walked up, they felt like they were being watched.

"Halt!" (translated from Germanic) said the Ghost leader as they walked in between a set of buildings on each side.

All of the Germanics knew exactly why he had said that. They looked around; tried to see their opponents that their gut told them they were there. And they knew exactly where they were hiding.........

Suddenly, 3 Hashashins came out of the buildings. Two on the left, 1 on the right.

At the same time two Hashashins jumped out of 20 foot windows.

Right as the Hashashin came out of the left house the Germanic second in command quickly stabbed him in the chest with his sword.

The Hashasin that jumped out of the right window jumped right down onto a Germanic charging at the other left Hashashin, landing on his back, grabbing his hair, and stabbing him in the neck with his Khanjar.

The Germanic who killed the first Hashashin quickly found himself falling to the ground with a Khanjar in his back from the other Hashashin who came from the lef.

Right as the other Hashashin (who jumped out a window) fell, aiming at a Germanic who was looking at him, the Germanic quickly held up his shield which the Hashashin landed on, he tried to get his hand behind the shield and stab him in the head, but the Germanic quickly threw the shield back. The Hashashin landed on his feet and the two began dualing with swords.

(That all happened over the period of like.....5 seconds) The Germanic put his shield infront of him and went charging at the Hashashin with his sword pulled in, ready to be thrusted out like apush knife!

The Hashashin went under the Germanic's shield with his sword as he got close, right as he did that the Germanic thrusted his sword at him.

The Hashashin blocked it with his shield.

Right at that moment, the Scimitar went into the Germanic's stomach, killing him.

The Hashashin retracted his sword and suddenly felt the impact of a spear go right into his brain.

That spear came from a Germanic who just killed the Hashashin he was dualing.

We are down to 3 on 3!

The Germanics regrouped with each other on the left side of the field.....

The Hashashins on the right.

Each side gave the other a angry stare in the eyes.

Both groups charged at each other!!!!

The Germanic leader twirled his spear in the air.

The Hashashin third in command, with a dagger closed in, he quickly threw it at the Germanic.

He quickly did a spin jump to the left, right as he landed the twirling spear hit the Hashashin in the head; knocking him right on the ground bleeding heavily, and unconscious.

The Germanic Warrior twirlded his spear in the air preparing to stab it down onto the Hashashin he had just about killed.

A Germanic thrusted his sword at a Hashashin, he quickly blocked it with his shield, and with his left hand, quickly grabbed two throwing knives and threw them at the Germanic about to kill his comrade.

The two knives hit him right in the side, he fell to the ground and began to bleed heavily.

2 on 2!

As he turned his head back, the Germanic pushed forward with his shield push hing back, then stabbed him in the head.

He turned to assist his comrade fighting the last Hashashin.

The Germanic fighting him (he doesn't have a shield) the Hashashin locked his sword on the inside of the Germanic's he then sweeped it down and cut off his armed wrist.

With swift precision, before the Germanic could even scream, he loped the Germanic's head right off.

It's now down to one on one!

The tension brewed between the two as they circuled each other about 10 feet apart.....Getting ready for their move....Trying to figure out what their opponent will do......

The Hashashin pushed himself forward, making a attempted stab at the Germanic's throat.

The Germanic blocked it with his club. The Hashashin quickly curved his blade around the Germanic's weapon; the Germanic ducked and came forward hitting the Hashashin square in the balls.

He hit him so hard it made it hard for him to stand up.

The Germanic stood up infront of him, he raised the club above his head and came right down on him.

At the last moment, the Hashashin blocked it with his arm. However, the club broke his arm.

The Germanic then dropped the club and grabbed his hair, he then dragged him over to a window and smashed his head right through it.

The Hashashin, with his other hand picked up a piece of glass and put it into a icepick grip then stabbed the Hashashin in the very left corner of the stomach, not going very far in or hitting any organs.

"AHH!!". Screamed the Germanic.

He then turned around and hit him square in the face, causing his head to turn.

He turned his head back, while he did that he grabbed the piece of glass and thrusted it right back at the Hashashin.

He jumped to the side, evading his attack.

As blood spilled out of the Germanic, he simply couldn't hold on anymore.

As he started to fail to stand, he threw the glass at the Hashashin, it impacted his upper left leg.

"AHH!!!!!!!". Screamed the Hashashin.

The Germanic tried totackle him, but right as he moved.....He fell to the ground from blood loss.

The Hashashin then walked away to let The Old Man of the Mountains know that his opponents had been dealt with.

Winner: Hashashin

Expert's Opinion[]

The Hashashin took this for a few reasons. For one, he had better weapons. The throwing knives made the spear useless since somebody using it could be easily taken out with throwing knives. The Scimitar could go under Germanic shieldsand the Germanics were not use to dealing with curved slashing weapons whereas the Hashashins were use to dealing with straight blades. Another thing, if the Hashashin were to scracth the Germanic with the dagger he would eventually die. They didn't really have the cures for poisons back then. They were also able to fair better (still suck) in the Germanic's enviornment then the Germanics were in theirs. Them taking organization, ruthless, and creativity was also a factor but nothing huge. Those are the reasons the Hashashin won.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.


The battle was declared invalid because the Hashashin were given throwing knives, weapons they historically never used.

Battle vs. Persian Immortal (by Goddess of Despair)[]

Persian Immortal Blue Blue  Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue

Hashashins Red Red Red Red Red Red Red

The Immortals are on high alert. They have been informed that their king himself has come to see his new soldiers. Seeing their king approach on the horizon, the Immortals prepare to look their best.

The Hashashins follow the king slowly from behind.  They see the Immortals over the horizon and decide that this is their last chance to eliminate the king.  Readying an arrow, a Hashashins launches the projectile into a guard’s throat. The other Hashashins ready projectiles and the king’s guard rushes to defend Darius.

The Immortals saw the king getting ambushed and quickly grabbed nearby weapons and rushed towards the woods, hoping they could defeat the assassins. A Hashashins sees the Immortals coming and fires an arrow at one, which is blocked by a shield. Suddenly an arrow hits his stomach, causing him to fall off his tree branch. Slamming into the ground, the arrow dug deeper into the Hashashin.  Red

The Persians advance under the cover of their archers. The archers, confident in their comrade’s abilities, have little worry other than firing their bows. Suddenly a khanjar thrusts into an archer’s chest. The Hashashin yanked out the blade as the second archer took an arrow out of his quiver. He lifted his bow as a throwing knife flew at him, slicing the string. The Hashashins sprinted at the Immortal, who side stepped out of the way of the khanjar and dug his arrow into the Hashashins’s throat. Red He walked to his comrade and helped him up. The injured Immortal opened his mouth to speak but his eyes suddenly widened, gasping he fell to the ground, victim of the poison.  Blue

The archer retrieved his allies bow, determined not to let it go to waste. He wondered how well his comrades were doing without his support.

The Immortals saw their king who quickly commanded them to destroy the assassins. The Immortals scanned the treetops when a knife rams into one’s eye. Blue

An Immortal lifted and hurled his spear in the knives’ direction; the spear knocked a Hashashin out of the tree. He crashed to the ground, roaring in pain from the spear. His screams were silenced moments later by a sagaris.  Red

The Immortal retrieved his spear, when an object caught his eye. He turned as a knife flew past him, grazing his cheek. The Hashashins turned and ran into the brush, pursued by an Immortal.  The assassin drew his scimitar as the Immortal closed in with his sagaris.  The Immortal slashed overhead with his axe, but the Hashashin dodged the blow and slashed at the Immortal shield, cutting halfway through the wicker. The Immortal kicked the assassin back and smashed the axe into the Hashashins’s shoulder. Red

The Immortal tore out his axe and turned to be greeted with an arrow in the throat. Blue

The Immortal archer continued his rain of arrows into the treetops, when an arrow flew back form the woods, meeting its mark on the archer. Blue

The Immortals watch the trees carefully, studying all movement. Motion on a branch to his right catches the eye of the Immortal, and he throws his spear, only to see a bird fly off the branch he moves towards the brush to retrieve his spear as his fellow Immortals follow him, when suddenly a Hashashins drops down and decapitates the Immortal in the back. Blue

The second Immortal turned with his sagaris and striked diagonally, cursing the man as he ripped his blade out Red, he turned towards his ally who had drawn his acinaces and dueled with a Hashashin. The Hashashin swung high with his scimitar, but the Persian parried and counter striked at the Hashashins’s head. He missed his target but was unashamed since he instead hit the Hashashins’s throat. Red

The final two Hashashins ready knives and throw several of the projectiles at the Immortals, none of which kill. The Persians slowly advance behind their shields, close enough for one to retrieve his spear. The Hashashins run out of knives and carefully draw their khanjars. The two separated, as did the Immortals. The first Hashashin runs into the open and yells at an Immortal, who quickly turns and charges. The Hashashins runs past his ally as the Persian throws his spear, impaling the fleeing assassin’s leg. As the Immortal ran to retrieve his weapon the second Hashashin emerged from a bush and slashed the Immortal with his scimitar. Blue He turned to his ally and proceeded to help him up when he is interrupted by a blow to the head. Red The Immortal kicks the Hashashin down, crushing the injured one under his friend’s weight. The Immortal then crushes the final assassin with his axe. Red

Expert's Opinion[]

What gave the Immortals the advantage here was the superior short range weaponry. The Immortals could keep up at long range with their bow and hit harder up close with the spear and sagaris. The Hashashins also were not nearly as experienced as the Immortals; they have fought far longer than the Hashashins, who would often die for their cause. The fight was close, but in the end the Immortals are the deadliest warrior.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.


The battle was declared invalid because the Hashashin were given throwing knives, weapons they historically never used.