News - Page 1 of 8The game began midnight Tuesday 27th; and then some....
First victim of the game was the unfortunate BikBok - confident in her arsenal of projectiles she was callously (i.e. in the best traditions of the guild) stabbed in the back by the giggling Flarg. Those who thought her intended victim Matt had escaped a pointy end were soon disabused of the idea when The Monk charged past her lifeless body and slew him, apparently much to the amusement of the Clare College Mafia.
This is two kills in the first minute. Could be that we'll get this one over with by the end of term.....
This report just in from errr, no, it's too silly.....
(half an hour later)Agent Dieter von Halpschnapp und Freunde surrounded The Beast's quarters. Beast Ramshaw appeared, failed to notice the suspicious looking people in the lobby and was mercilessly gunned down in the back by Dieter.Thus ends The Beast's (very short) reign of depravity...
Ramshaw's bullet-ridden corpse was later sold to clinical med students for unmentionably vile purposes.
Dawn the next day was greeted by the rather strange sound 'aaaarrrghhh - kerplunk!' Closer investigation revealed the source of the noise to be the now smoking remains of what had once been Clare Boothby. It is suspected that some ritualistic use of fruit had gone horribly wrong; police are not treating the death as suspicious (just a little odd).
On a more conventional note, this report was left smeared in a congealing pool of blood in the center of clare college earlier today... (Wednesday)The Tyger stood outside the door, fingers wrapped around the hilt of his knife. He listened to the faint sound of typing coming from inside the room. He was in luck. His target was in. Perhaps even alone.The Flarg is no more... don't upset the kitty...
He stepped back from the door and rapped on it. A faint scuffle of motion emanated from the room beyond.
"Who is it?" called a voice. Flarg was obviously being cautious. The Tyger paused. This was the only dangerous part of the exercise. If Flarg was paranoid enough to refuse entry even to his friends, he would not only fail in his mission, but Flarg would know the identity of his assassin. But too much hesitation, and he would certainly be found out.
"Hello," he replied. For a second there was nothing. Not long, but long enough for the Tyger to doubt his plan. What would he do if Flarg was armed when he opened the door? His contingency plans were still in the pre-embryonic stage.
Then the lock turned, and the door opened. Flarg stood back to allow his former friend entry.
The Tyger stepped through the door, fingering his knife. "I can't stay long," he began. "I just wanted to say that I'm terribly sorry." And without giving Flarg time to react he drew his weapon and plunged it into Flarg's chest.
He held his arm out as the life drained from Flarg's body and he fell backwards onto the carpet, his eyes wide in an unbelieving stare. The Tyger stepped over the corpse and looked down at it. It was a hollow feeling, when it came down to killing friends. There was no sense of victory, just resigned that a job which had to be done was now completed. Perhaps his next assignment would be better - this one was a little too close to home.
Messages scrolled up the screen of Flarg's computer, the friends to whom he had been chatting asking where he was. The Tyger didn't feel like telling them what had happened; sooner or later they would come to see him face-to-face, and they would find him. With one last look at the object in the centre of the spreading crimson stain on the floor, the Tyger quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.
They're dropping like flies - Taxloss was paid a visit by revenue inspectors and mercilessly audited; this report from Inspector 'Cannon Fodder', presumably some strange government alias...The Time: 7:30pm 28th January.Now, is it just me or have most of the kills thus far been as a result of involvement in the secret scheme known only by the codename 'paradigm shift'? Proof, were it needed that religion can be really bad for you.
The Scene: the handing over of John's Gospels and Paradigm Shift leaflets.
The Cast: Cannon Fodder (carrying the Gospels etc.) Taxloss (who was to distribute said Gospels) and P.C. Matt (the organiser of the meeting)
The Action: Cannon Fodder entered and moved forward smoothly, drew her gun which promptly refused to fire and then broke in two. Taxloss realising the danger turned to get his own gun. But it was too late as Cannon Fodder's knife plunged deep into his back.
The End: After recovering from the immediate shock of death Taxloss helped reassemble the gun and collected his Gospels. What a corpse!
28/1/98 - 22:15
The mysteriously named Jandarma (perhaps the next incarnation of Cleuseau?) struck just after ten, claiming the slightly incoherent Gaynor Barrett. The kill was somewhat strangely reported; vis -Selam ale'ekum I am Jandarma Please excuse my poor engeliz BUT I MAKE NO APOLOGIES so sorry never mind, i will begin however i do not give details my ways are secret - to learn jandarman you must die i give feelings - with feelings i begin my poem - a poem about life gaynor you are brave. . . my hand on the door i know you want to stave my head to the floor there is a poster on the oak it says 'enemies beware' but your poster lied like a pair of flares you spouted green and orange but it was brain and face and a bit of porridge why were you eating cereals you should be watching for the serials like me - KERCHING!! my shotgun flashing you will live no more you were but salt to my thirst when all are dead we alone will remember that you were the first allah u'akbar goodnight sleep white
Kien Hoang, was eliminated last night. My accomplice and I managed to enlist an associate of the Sea Cucumber to act as a decoy. As the door of his room was opened, I managed to hit him in the torso with a poison dart. He was well prepared, but obviously taken by suprise by my lightning-fast attack
However, the Sea Cucumber, lungs inverting and bursting out of his mouth, somehow managed to concentrate enough to blaze away in a deadly burst at the somewhat surprised Hypo Luxa, just before they both went to swim with the fishes in the seas of hades.
The first attempt at killing at a distance failed dismally :I found a very suspicious looking letter in my pigeonhole this morning, cunningly disguised as a love-letter. Fearing the worst, the letter was disected with a razor blade on a stick from behind a stone wall wearing gas-masks at 10:30 this morning. This turned out to be a slight overkill as it was simply a contact-poison job, signed mysteriously by Julian Bente (hmmmmmmm...... I think I was more shocked by the revalation that I had a gay stalker than the actual attempt on my life.)
....as for that matter did the second, as the bomb left on an unnamed assassin's door dismally failed to explode, and was ably defused. This guy wasn't just trying to draw the loony pension.....
Here follows the death of KelpieI hid by the wall as my accomplice knocked on the door. "Go away" came the answer from inside. "I'm with my boyfriend!" Apparently we had had a wasted journey.ShotGun Brando makes another player die. Are we going to have anyone left after the weekend?
A minute later my patience was rewarded; the door opened and the boyfriend stepped out. Suspicious of the two people on either side of the door, he said nothing. It was then that I saw it: the knife in his belt. His right hand held a Smith and Wesson Model 29 .44 Calibre water pistol. The gun in my own hand made me a target for anyone - perhaps death was only a second away...
I raised my gun to his head and pulled the trigger - click! Cheap junk! In almost blind panic I pulled it again, and the corridor erupted in a pink cloud of blood. Grey and white bits splattered all over the wall. Stuff in colours you've never seen dripped over his nose. He slumped to the floor, whispering in his last breath ... "I'm an innocent bystander". I had killed a non-guild member! Did this put me on the wanted list, or was there some clause in the rules that could sneak me through the door of innocence...
Not thinking about the awful consequences of my actions, I proceeded into 3/8 New Court, Christs. Morag was kneeling on the floor. I put the gun to her head but was rewarded only with another two clicks. As the knife in her hand slit my left arm from elbow to wrist, I pulled again. Bang! She slumped pain waving the knife at me as I pumped another round into her chest.
Not exactly the surgically-clean operation I had hoped for; I wasn't even sure whether I had made it out alive myself.