The Assassins' Guild - Week 6 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 6 NewsI went to Trinity to find Revelation and play Roxanne, but the porter was most unhelpful. Then I went to John's, but the door was in the way. This led to me wondering round Trinity for a while, where I saw Kit. On later inspection, it turned out to be a tree, but I shot it anyway in case it was Kit was cleverly disguising himself as a tree having seen me. Then I went to Newnham, where I saw Newnhamites. I didn't shoot any of them. The bar was closed, but I played table football so my trip was not a complete waste of time. I lost, and bang killed the football players, just in case they were Kit making me lose for always uncovering his disguises. Selwyn bar was also closed, and there were lots of people there, non of whom I killed.
So far this game I have received absolutely no attempts on my life. This is very boring. I thought perhaps being a police target, leaving my door open and being completely unarmed would assist however alas still absolutely nothing. Thus I extend this invitation to men, women and mathmos alike.. COME AND KILL ME ALREADY!!!
A policemen visited me today, after he knocked on my door and tried to open it we exchanged fire down my corridor, him wielding a yellow fire-ball shotgun and my self with dual RBGs.. he was out of my range and his balls just bounced around and were easily avoided by stepping in and out of my room to fire... we were getting nowhere. He then seemed to retreat but a few minutes later I heard him talking to someone at the end of the corridor so while his attention was diverted I shot him .. lots :-)
That was great fun!
The Umpire points out that by signing up for the game, you agree to report events you are involved in, specifically events in which you die.
came under fire at some cheeky-boy inco's door. he cheekily asked everybody to come kill him so i did.... then he went and changed his mind and decided he was going to fire rubber bands at his cheerful executioner. cheeky.
startled by the sudden cheek, i ran away, fireing as i did. then i ran up stairs and accross and came back down at the other side hoping to get him from behind. bumped into some cheeky fool with a camera who was probably employed to film the ordeal....one of those snuff movie things? im dead now anyhoo as while i was wondering whether to kill this guy or not i got shot in the back by the cheeky boy.
i propose that if a target overcomes the would-be assassin in the target's own home, they must offer the corpse a chocolate biscuit of some discription and a cup of tea. it's only fair really. please consider adding this to the rules for the next game.
i would just like to point out that i will not explode. i'm too far away.
We assembled our forces and made our way to the abode of one incompetent Lee Lewin, who had allegedly eliminated an officer earlier in the day and was taunting assassins to come and kill him. Dividing to conquer, we discovered that he had been spreading misinformation, and his door was not unlocked as claimed. A number of "innocents" then appeared with cameras, and we retreated into the stairwell. Jamie Karran was nobly trying to shield me from the distracting cameraman when Lee appeared out of the corridor and emptied two guns into his back. Revelation and I legged it through a further set of doors to consolidate, while Lee retreated into his room. We seized the bar and turned it into our base of operations, launching expedition after expedition against his fortress abode. Sadly his army of non-players eventually proved too much for us, and we left, saddened by our loss.
We then headed for New Hall, where Xina Li makes her abode. Finding the back gate locked, I realised the quickest way there was in fact through Fitzwilliam, and that the route would coincidentally take us right past the room of the inco policeman Edward Ullathorne. His neighbours told us that he was in the JCR playing pool, but were struck with a sudden attack of amnesia and couldn't tell us what he looked like. We decamped to the JCR, and Michael Wallace and I formed a plan for the attack. My original idea was for all of us to rush in waving guns in the air and see who reacted in an assassiny manner, but this was discarded as "silly and dangerous". Instead Michael Wallace went in and politely asked the pool players where Edd Ullathorne could be found. They indicated a character in a purple shirt on the other side of the room with his back to us, and Michael Wallace began to make his way over. Things were going a little slowly for me, though, and my bloodlust needed sating, so I shot Edd over Michael Wallace's shoulder.
Yes, I'm a greedy bastard. Sorry.
Having disposed of Edward Ullathorne we proceeded to New Hall, where Xina Li was distinctly out. What happened next was slightly unfortunate. One of our number wanted to visit a friend who lived only a few doors down from Felicity Boyce, and the rest of us were standing around in the corridor waiting for them. We realised what this must look like to Felicity, and tried to convince her, through her locked door, that we were not in fact targetting her.
After about five minutes, Richard Gibson came streaking (in the non-biblical sense) past me like a bat out of hell, pursued by a number of rubber bands, and Alex Labram also took off at a rate of knots. I caught a brief glimpse of a young lady in a red dressing gown chasing him down the hall with a gun, before I ducked behind a wall. Cue XP220. At least I know it works now.
It was all really very tragic. I'd automatically assumed that the attacker was Xina, pursuing us from her room, while it emerged that Felicity had in fact been in the shower, thus unable to hear our explanations of innocence. She had also fallen over while attacking Richard Gibson and thus lost part of the element of surprise. I can't say I'd have reacted any differently in her situation, she was just unlucky. Sorry, Felicity :(
Tom
All these incos! Clearly a night of bashing is in order (of incos, I should add, not kittens, or anything else that's going to get us in trouble with the RSPCA). First a visit to Lee Lewin, who's clearly very speshal, on account of his speshal friends with their speshal camera (what will they do with the photos, we wondered, horrible thoughts entering our minds, I mean, you have to be a bit odd to be so keen as to take lots and lots of photos of people you don't even know - they actually chased a couple of us around a bit, but unluckily for them, they were rather hampered by being gentlemen of a portly nature, well, one of them was certainly, but I'm sure they'll find happiness somewhere, maybe). Annoyingly, the distraction of the camera people served to aid the downfall of one of our comrades, after which the oh-so brave, and oh-so incompetent incompetent (lets count the attempts he's made this game shall we, children?) darted back into his corridor, with myself in pursuit (hey, he'd just killed my boyfriend, I was a little irritated to say the least), but of course he ran back into his room rather quickly (unlocked door? unarmed? well, it's not like anyone would have been stupid enough to believe that anyway, but there's proof just in case you weren't sure...).
After a while we got bored, as clearly we weren't enough entertainment for the poor soul, maybe so much action in one night was a little too much to take after a game of such remarkable inactivity... So we headed off to attempt the other incompetenet player, although on the way we thought we'd drop by on Ed Ullathorne, where, after I gallantly 'volunteered' to enter the ominously named 'JCR', determined which individual was our target, and had made my way over to him, found none other but our 'Commisar' Tom Booth at my shoulder, shooting him just as I was about to do so myself. Now I know competition within the force isn't to be encouraged, but this just seemed a bit silly. I'm not angry Tom, just disapointed. And angry.
So, that little incident over, we head over to the residence of Xina Li, who made a very good impression of being out, although we did try several different ways of tricking her into revealing whether or not she was in (we knocked, we called her name, we knocked again, we crept around a bit, we tried looking like assassins, we tried sounding like assassins, then we knocked again, we probably did some other stuff too, but we don't want to give away all our secrets now, do we?).
On our way out, we made the mistake of standing around outside the door of Felicity Boyce who, perhaps understandably, ran out of the shower shooting at us. Unfortunately we didn't really have time to explain what was going on, and that we weren't there for her, and whilst myself and a couple of others bid a tactical retreat, she fell over, mutilated Censer, before being shot by Tom Booth. He was clearly having a good night.
there were six of us, don'tcha know, on that fateful night; the night of my demise. six of us rode out into the rapidly descending night, replete with all manner of exotic weaponry. raccoons, rubber band guns and knives (helpfully supplied by the yellow power ranger) were all held ready, in our capable paws as we padded our way towards that most sinster of colleges, the one they call Gir-Tonne ! little did i know what was to await me there...!
our last visit to Gir-Tonne (oh vile den of debauchery!) in all it's promised killacious magnificence, had been marred a) by our target's non-attendance to his own exocution and b) by the presence of a ghastly little man with long greasy black hair who proceeded to attempt to make compromising photographs of us as we slunk around Gir-Tonne (oh most despise-d oubliette of satan) and so we had pursued the better part of valour (i.e. cowardice... isn't it?) and escaped, tails firmly between our lower limbs...
and now! we had, like the prodigal son in the story of old, returned to the fabled sanctum of sin (oh Gir-Tonne!) to make, under cover of night, to destroy the coward Lee Lewin!
we entered, silently as mobile toasters, and slid down the corridors
to the corridor in which our mark resided.
we turned the corner...
we stood outside the door, our breath heavy...
we knocked once...
we knocked twice...
"lee" we cried "fancy coming down to the bar?"
and yet he, somehow was not fooled...
we waited... and then! who should appear, but the Camera pervert of
before... snapping at us, with a viscious lust, he proceeded to take a
volley of photos (for what reason, we know not... perhaps to build a
decadent collection for his own Onanistic pleasure, perhaps for
Lee)...
but this was not the time for such pondering and thoughts which involved not the present situation. this important lesson was compounded by each and every rubber band which tore through my unyielding frame as i opened the door to escape the demented gresasy shutterbug which haunted my existence... "the cad!" i exclaimed in my mind as i slumped to the floor "he shot me in the back!"
"It's a medical condition, cancer is."
"I love where you get your inspiration from."
"I like Garfield."
"People with cameras are perverts."
"FUCKWITS!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"I think we should form a bang gang."
"A.... what?"
"That sounds rather, um, dodgy. In a sexual way."
"What??"
"You heard, now STRIP!!!!"
"You fall into the water! You sink like a stone!"
"You struggle to the bank. Phew! That was close"
a
"What do you want to apply?
t
"You dry yourself"
W
"What do you want to wear?"
N
"You are now wearing a nightie"
W
"What do you want to wear?"
G
"You are now wearing a gown"
W
"What do you want to wear?"
F
"You are now wearing a pair of fumble boots"
o
"In which direction?"
h
"You open the door"
h
h
"The Kop wields a RBG! The Kop wields a Water Gun! The Raccoon growls!"
w
"What do you want to wield"
R
"You are now wielding an RBG"
f
j
"You hit the human zombie! The assassin turns to flee!"
f
j
"You miss the Kop! The Kop fires an RBG! The Kop misses!"
"You trip and fall"
"The Kop fires an RBG! The Kop misses!"
f
j
"You miss the Kop! The Kop fires a Water Gun! The water hits!"
"You die..."
"Do you want to see your conduct? (yn)"
y
"You were competent. You were law abiding."
"Do you want to see your stats? (yn)"
y
St:15 Dx:8 Co:16 In:3 Wi:5 Ch:10"
"Do you want to see a list of monsters killed? (yn)
y
"Simon Morrell
3 human zombies"
----------
/ \
/ REST \
/ IN \
/ PEACE \
/ \
| "Xerxes |
| the Archlich" |
| |
| killed by |
| an anecdote |
| |
| Lent 2005 |
* | * * * | *
_____)/\|\__//(\/(/\)/\//\/|_)_____
As I was going to the railway station, and Bateman Street is near there, I decided to pay a visit. Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be rather asleep (I suppose it's to be expected at that time on a Sunday morning). Had to leave after about 10 minutes to catch a train.
The strange and confused events of this morning involved one Xina Li (hereafter known as "Incompetent Scum"), Chris Field (Mr "I'm so dreamy" Nighty) and of course myself, the valient, dashing and heroic policeman.
I was contacted this morning by the one and only Mr Nighty to announce that he knew the location, but not identity, of an Incompetent. Police assisstance was called and the elite disguise master team was called (me). A cunning plan of most cunningness was hatched by the master of cunning Mr "dreamy" Nighty himself - I was to go into the lab where the incompetent was lurking and pose as a student researcher asking about the labs.
A short interview later and I had been furnished with the names and descriptions of the suspects in question, and their opinions of the practical (rather confusing). This information was passed onto Mr Nighty so as not to raise suspicion if they saw me again.
A brief wait while they struggled with the pratical and the final part of the mission was executed - along with Ms Li.
TOP SECRET
``````````
AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY
`````````````````````````
--------------------------
OPERATION WARRIOR PRINCESS
--------------------------
Target:
Li, Xina AKA 'zizi'
New Hall
Group 120
Location:
University of Cambridge
Department of Engineering
Inglis Building
Materials Laboratory
Experiment 11 - Non-destructive Testing
Contacts:
Colin Leung
Chris Knowles
Matthew Johnson
Strategy:
Target will be difficult to identify from those participating in the
experiment. Strategies exist to determine the individual: sweeping the room and
acquiring information on laboratory notes, asking for direct identification,
utilising some form of ruse to obtain individuals' names. Upon identification,
disabling the target with discretion is preferred. Should any suspicion be
aroused, tactical withdrawal and consideration should be employed.
--------------
MISSION REPORT
--------------
I located the possible targets, and found no immediate way to discern 'zizi'. I
contacted, perhaps in error, the first operative available, namely Colin Leung,
the man who puts the 'un' back in subtle. He was tasked to sweep the room and
seek forms of identification. He failed. I contacted the second operative,
Chris Knowles, who was tasked to both sweep and attempt to directly ask for the
individual. Targets behaved defensively and no information was obtained. As the
final operative arrived on the scene and was briefed, it was decided that a
ruse was required. Acquiring paper from a nearby lecture, Matthew Johnson was
briefed on the situation and tasked to perform a 'student survey' about the
experiment, in his capacity as one attached to the department. The following
data was acquired:
Name Difficulty Interest
```` `````````` ````````
Xina Li Confusing 2nd experiment Good
Chet Wei Tan Unhelpful and unclear Good
1st experiment fine
Identifying the target as the individual wearing the most blue, careful waiting
was in order. As they exited, suspicions appear aroused, as they turned to see
and stare at me on the stairs. To blend in, an unusual route was taken to avoid
the target and accomplices. Attempting to find them before reaching the lecture
theatre appeared to have failed, and as I tactically withdrew from the scene I
happened to pass the target. A swift redirection and knife to the neck disabled
the target. Mission accomplished.
----------
REPORT END
----------I was on the loo! On the loo I tell you and I hear "trickle trickle .. mutter mutter" Hmm.. thinks me that's some one filling up a water pistol. So I looked at the bathroom door... green and so unlocked, ok so I opened it ... it open a small bit and was then held .. so I put in my trusty band gun and fired at some 1 near the sink (defiantly hitting him several times but I cant say where) then pointed it round the door and fired at the other person, no idea on accuracy there though. Next I poked my head in to hear "bang" from the guy at the sink. I replied with "but I've shot you" he said "in the ar- oh fair point" or something, n e way I then turned tail and pegged it.
Today at 1200 hours G.I.Bob, with his trusted friend Oook, set off for Girton's Wolfson court in hope of finding Lee Lewin. After checking the room (and finding it was empty) they scouted out the neighbouring area.
They returned to the corridor where room W106 was situated and hid round a corner waiting to pounce and noticed that someone was in the toilet. G.I.Bob decided it would be a good idea for them to hide in the nieghbouring shower room, turning on the shower for added credibility, but Oook forgot to lock the door behind them.
Lee burst in with a gun in his hand and fired wildly hitting G.I.Bob's right arm (Oook appeared to be cowering behind the door at this point). G.I.Bob reached in to his pocket to grab his own gun in lightning quick time (read 'very slowly'), pulled it out and pulled the trigger.
Unfortunately he did this with his right hand, which was lame from having been shot, and so the bullet never left the barrel. Before he had time to change hands he had been shot in the chest and fell to the ground.
Fearing that he would be killed by Oook, Lee ran away and into his room, which makes him a coward. G.I.Bob's last wish is that someone kills the dastardly Lee Lewin soon for the crimes of being a coward and bursting into a shower room without knocking.
Went with G.I. Bob to look for Deebo. We found his room, waited around for a bit, then lurked in his shower since we heard noises from the toilet next door. Here the plan failed somewhat, as Deebo burst in, spraying the room with bands, and taking off Bob's arm, then killing Bob before he could return fire. I was stuck behind the door, and so unable to retaliate. Deebo then legged it, and was safely down the corridor before I could get after him, so I left.
Ah ha at last the elusive Kit aka Christopher J Jenkins spotted getting cheese in Sainsbury's, draw band gun, point at chest, tap on back .. BANG! . "Urgh" "Oh dear your not Kit are you?" More monosyllabic grunts confirmed he was an innocent I think maybe he was trying to say he'd been killed twice now, just to prove he really does look like an assassin and im not being thick! Guess Im wanted now though right? Oh no not the police! *dreads the thought*
for adding to the funeral pyre of innocents this game seems to have produced, Lee Lewin has been placed on the wanted list, redemption with any two legal player kills.
in order to dispell any thoughts that all the police do is kill people I took it upon myself to ensure that a certain criminal who has come to our attention was attending his lecture today. Unfortunately he wasn't and I feel a little bit of emotional support and good positive encouragement would do him wonders.
======================================================================== --- CAMBRIDGE FANTASY V WALKTHROUGH --- ======================================================================== Part 23 - Wolfson Court ----------------------- Watch the FMV (if you press square at the right time, you get a very short bonus scene where Martin and Rosie make jokes about the size of Nokes' moustache) and you'll find yourself back on Grange Road. The Selwynites and Newnhamites in this area are now slightly higher level, but they won't be a problem as long as at least one of your party has learned the Wearing A Big Trenchcoat And Looking Dangerous ability from the Matrix fans outside the cinema (if you forgot to do this in Chapter 2, go back to the Regal and do it now, but you've missed your chance to get the blue cocktail, so you won't be able to get Duncan's ultimate weapon in Chapter 5). Now, if you were paying attention during the scene where you speak to the Umpire, you should know that you're supposed to be making your way to Wolfson Court (which is now unlocked) in order to kill Lee Lewin. (If you're trying to get the alternate ending, in which you steal all the biscuits and eventually end up in an orgy with the Umpire and the Treasure Trap refs, that isn't covered by this walkthrough; try consulting Mazrael's Really Disturbing Alternate Ending FAQ.) However, Wolfson Court is *hard*, one of the hardest dungeons so far in the game, so you need to make sure you're prepared first. Make sure Alan Mycroft is in your party and that he has a speed of at least 7 (if it's less, you can level him up quickly by fighting the grizzly monsters in the Non-Euclidean Lecture Theatre in the CL). Ensure that Bryony has mastered the skills 'Invisibility', 'Lurking' and 'Ignore Shiny Thing Temporarily'. Also, if you're trying to get the Sacred CPS2000 to use on the final boss, make sure that you've collected all the Elemental Hedgehogs (fire, earth, water, poison and latex) before you leave Grange Road, since this is your last chance to do so. You can stop in at Harvey Court to speak to the Secret Mafia Godmummy if you're short on cash and do the Don't Shoot The Porters! sub-mission, before heading north for four screens, where you'll find the first sub-boss. BOSS: Giant Carrot HP: 27,109 MP: 8 Weak: Fire, Poison Resists: Latex It's never been explained very well why the designers chose to put a giant, talking carrot in the game, especially one with a t-shirt reading ROOTING FOR THE ENEMY, and this is one of the reasons CFV met with much less critical acclaim than CFIII and CFIV (along with the omission of the Caius Mafia Orgy scene the series had previously made its trademark). In any case, he has a lot of HP, but he's an easy fight. Just don't try the usual trick of using Fountainpen Of Ink to inflict darkness status on him, since as everyone knows, carrots can see in the dark ;) Once the stupid non-sequitur is dead, you can carry on to Wolfson Court proper. It's suggested that you equip everyone with a non-obvious weapon, since this removes the possibility of getting into random battles with Police Officer Chase PhD, who is not at all corrupt to her godchildren in Wolfson Court (and remember, if Nokes is in your party, that a CPS1k *does* count as non-obvious, for him and no-one else). Also, don't forget that certain assassins are incapable of ever being subtle. Anyway, unless you do something really stupid, you should end up in the bathroom, triggering one of several flashback scenes, depending on which of the characters you talked to at the party in Chapter 3: Hannah or Mike - flashback to the being-shot-in-a-toilet episode from two years ago Bjoern - flashback to the other being-shot-in-a-toilet-episode from three years ago Lauren - flashback to the being-shot-just-outside-a-toilet episode from the end of Chapter 1 Foxy - flashback to one of several amusing comments made by Computer Science lecturers in the past year (this might or might not include Martin Richards, depending on whether you killed him in the optional mission in Chapter 2) After the flashback, you'll get a short minigame in which you have to lock the door of the toilet cubicles in order to avoid being shot by Lee Lewin. (Get this right first time, and you're rewarded with the manual for Michael's Level 4 Limit Break, Deadly Piratical Parrot Attack.) Now PAY ATTENTION. The following sequence is timed, and if you run out of time (eg. by stopping to chat to Lee Lewin's neighbours) then he'll sneak round behind you and shoot you in the back, and it's game over. Go up a floor, along the corridor, down a floor, through the canteen, along the right-hand corridor, up two floors, across the suspension bridge, past Jupiter, down another floor and halfway along the corridor, and you'll be outside Lee Lewin's room. Once the timer stops, go back a little way and talk to Robert Chipperfield. BOSS: Robert Chipperfield HP: 69,105 MP: 1337 Weak: Fire, Latex Resists: LaTeX You'll pick up some coffee and a spare RBG for doing this, but the real reason is to use the save point on his computer. You're unlikely to beat Lewin on your first attempt (I didn't), and you won't want to do the stupid sequence where you run around WOlfson all over again. After saving, go back to Lee Lewin's room. BOSS: Lee Lewin (first form) HP: 42,992 MP: 9999 Weak: Resists: Fire, Earth, Water, Poison, Latex, Incobashers This first stage isn't too hard to fight as long as at least one of your party is immune to poison, darkness, distraction and spodding. Just keep your HP high and concentrate on hitting him with physical attacks. If Foxy, Richard Gibson or Ed Heaney are in your party, psychological attacks also work well. When you kill him, he transforms into ... BOSS: Lee Lewin (second form) HP: 733,261 MP: 99999 Weak: Resists: Fire, Earth, Water, Poison, Latex, Incobashers, Squick Yowch! Why'd he transform into a giant pumpkin demon with three heads? Yet another bizarre plot twist which the designers of CFV never saw fit to explain. Anyway, this round is a lot harder, since probably the only attack you've got that will work against him is Corkscrew's Six-Hour Lurk. This hits for several thousand points of damage each time, but it takes ages to cast, so use an electric cattleprod to cast Haste on Corkscrew and have the rest of your party concentrate on keeping him alive. This is very difficult, but eventually he'll last long enough to get a hit in. If Corkscrew gets KO'd, use a shot of Aftershock to revive him. Eventually, you should get the boss' HP down to a big fat zero. Watch out, though, since he has a final attack move which causes the entirety of Wolfson Court to lift up out of the ground and launch itself into the sun. If you don't have at least one party member with immunity to Four-Million Degree Fusion Fire, you're finished. If you survived, heal up and then walk over to the door of the Bun Shop to trigger the cutscene, in which Xanth is attacked by giant scary clowns. Then save your game and proceed onwards to Chapter 5! Update - Alternate Lee Lewin strategy ------------------------------------- NeoJMC80 has pointed out that there's an alternate sequence in which you don't have to fight Lee Lewin at all. For this to work, you have to have convinced George Yianni's innocent roommate to join the police force in Chapter 2. Then, instead of going to Wolfson Court in Chapter 4, equip Foxy with the Birthday Suit and go to Alan Blackwell's office in the CL to view a scene in which the workload of Part II of the Computer Science Tripos is unexpectedly increased. Go and talk to George Yianni's innocent roommate in the Intel Lab and choose the dialogue option 'no, I think Assassins is taking up too much of your time.' George Yianni's innocent roommate will then resolve to get himself killed by making an unsubtle attempt on Lee Lewin. In Wolfson Court, watch George Yianni's innocent roommate try the door of Lee Lewin's room, without success. However, instead of leaving when prompted, have him go back and knock on the neighbour's door to ask where Lee is. If you've done everything correctly, you should now view a cutscene in which Lee Lewin walks into the corridor and he and George Yianni's innocent roommate obliterate one another in a hail of simultaneous gunfire. Congratulations!
On my return to my room I found a suspicious looking character outside my neighbors door, when I approached his hand started twitching and so I drew my weapon and unleashed 3 suberinizing blasts. At the same instant he muttered bang ... ah well that's what? 5 police dead? That'l do .. Deebo signing off
PS Plz call off the police now, much as I do lonely I had more than enough of ppl hiding in my garden
I wandered round the colleges on what I like to think of as the evil side of the river, to see what I could see. And what I could see was James McLeod's open door, and three people in the room opposite. Now, I've met this guy twice before, but I still wasn't sure which was him. They directed me to a room further down the corridor, and I left, suspiciously. My suspicions were confirmed when the door then closed, and locked.
I was searching for a decent lurking spot when he made a break for it, and just made it back into his own room. His neighbours stood outside laughing at him as the trademark sounds of RBG-loading came from within. A few moments later, he burst out of the room next door, having presumably climbed through the shower. He got one shot off, but died to a retaliatory hail of bands.
I then went to see Niraj Modha, who saw me through the window but didn't try shooting me. So I put the bin outside his door and left again.
I'd been to Lee Lewin's room first, and had again been chased off by camera-wielding "innocents". But the hour was getting later, and I thought he might be going to dinner sometime soon. On my return, however, I was informed by a neighbour that he was already dead. I must have just missed him, and the killer, the first time I was there. Curses!
Gosh I was so upset when my dear namesake was murdered the other day. I had no choice but to make the people responsible suffer some sort of injury, accident at work, or death, of their own. So I wandered, and I wondered. Where could the perpetrators be? My ingenius female intellect led me to one conclusion: they were at home, plotting and/or gloating. Thankfully I was then informed of a far more reasonable likelihood, and I rushed over to Christ's College. Another phone call informed me of the handy codes required to access the room where one of them was hiding. So I stepped in, and shot poor The Supreme Inquisitor, His Reverence Lord Zacharias Spon, Paladin of the Gold Temple of the Knights Templar, Grand Inspector and Master of Ritual, Chronicler of the Ancient Texts, Prime Scrivener, Head of the Order of Crimson Scribes and Keeper of the Books of Law, Ceremony and Propriety.. Several times in the arm and chest, and then once in the head, just to make sure. Ooooh, nasty. I really think it serves him right for having such an inconveniently long name. I skipped off into the darkness shortly afterwards, back to my homely little library.
The Umpire notes that Ed's death report is, a rather large file (although it's also very good). Rather than store this on the society webspace, he has, for the time being at least, decided to store it on his own, until a more permanant solution can be found.
I journyed to Harvey Court today to kill Pamela Brent but she wasnt there. I waited outside her door and helped with the crossword but she didnt come back and i had to go.
Ill be back!
Lurk Lurk Lurk Boredom
I waited for Clio again, but she didn't want to play :(
Dear mr umpire sir. I went on a stroll today, down to Jesus Lane. Alex Labram was in, and ready to receive visitors... My impetuous partner rang somebody's bell, so I did likewise. About 5 minutes later the window opened. Rubber and water rained from above. My RPG was outranged, and we had a very stupid conversation. There was no point in staing there, so we went to visit Kit My collegue talked to the said man of `buisness and pleasure` as I came under his sill at leasure. I fired upwards. Poor range on these guns. Getting back to college, some nice person poisoned my handle, but I was warned by my neigbor. Bye
I decided that it was time for Pax to die!!! But i wasnt able to get in this time. I will get her again or keep trying until i get her or she gets me!!!
Another unsuccessful day - I thought March Hare would be well easy to kill seeing as he lives in the same building as me, but despite frequent visits to his room to see if he is in and waiting around (obviously inconspicuously as everyone knows me) from 5 till 6, he still didn't turn up!!!
I then returned to my room to find poison on my door handle, fortunately i can get into my room without touching the handle as the key opens the door on its own. so i'm still alive.
will carrying on looking for March Hare but he seems to be very good at keeping undercover . ..
I was strolling back to college when I saw a rounding error walking towards me, with a XP in each hand. He fired at me, but was way out of range. Two things flashed through my mind; first, the mutilated corpse of Simeon, who a rounding error had brutally murdered in cold blood, second, the memory that a rounding error's inco deadline had passed about two hours before. So I shot him. Morally, I don't count this as a backstab. Especially since he'd been shooting at me.
Today a friend of mine died to my poisoned doorhandle. I shall miss them.
If the person responsible would like to send a wreath to the family of the deceased, there should be an obituary in TCS soon.
dear mr. umpire some vile bugger poisoned my door handle killing my girlfriend :(
slash me thinks adding 'please read the rules on contact poison' to my notes next game might be an idea...
For attempted mass poisoning, Rosemary Warner has also been added to the wanted list. Bet you thought it was empty for a minute there... didn't you?
Dear Mr Umpire,
should any one wish to claim my death due to some nasty greasy substance
on my doorhandle, the outside shock horror gasp, the lucky person gets
three innocents for free, wow what a deal.
So, as my air runs out, and my mind dissolves into the demon's clutches, i thought i'd better send you an ethereal message to explain.
Right. so i'm in this bar ok? and this dude comes up to me and he's all suave and sophisticated and he offers me a recording contract. in return i need only sell my soul. so i say ne bother. i sign and feel all morals and righteousness slipping away from me. i did get a number one in albania though. So my dad finds out and he aint too pleased. so, being a blackbelt in fujitsu, he knocks me over the head with a home entertainment system. while i am unconsious he must have buried me. i've got some garlic down here and a crucifix. so i'm not too lonely. oh well. Il nomini patri, et fili et spiritu sancte. or spectacles testicles breasticles two. as the breath runs from my lungs i shall serenade you with the voice of eastern europe.
"You need feet, to keep your socks on
you need feet to kick your friends
you need feet to dance the polka
and to stop your legs from fraying, at the ends.
you need feet to walk arou-------- - - - - - - -"
(this message will self destruct whenever it damn well pleases)
"possibly the hardest time in any persons life is when they have to kill a loved one because they're the devil" (Emo Phillips, stand up comedian)
Today i had to take care of some business a little closer to home than usual (i think it may have been the curry i had last night). Having done that, i murdered my son. As we were walking through the grounds of our home, i smacked him over the head with a cosh. Then, using my trusty wheelbarrow I buried him alive. It wasn't the nicest thing to do but i'm not going inco for anybody and besides that he really WAS the Devil. I would pray for my poor dead sons but is there really any point- me thinks not.
In from the coast, riding like the wind and racing the moon,
Shadows on the road, dancing and a-weaving like a crazy fool.
A fresher is coming, death in his heart, for a rendez-vous,
And where the assassin goes, nobody knows,
Where the assassin goes, nobody knows....
A candle in the night, fear on every face when he goes inside
(maybe he's got a gun? )
Get back from the bar! a stranger in town is a dangerous sight
(is he targetting me? )
Bring a targetting graph, landlord, I wanna talk for a while.
And where the assassin goes, a cold wind blows,
Oh, where the assassin goes, a cold wind blows....
There is something in his eyes, something in his hands,
You can almost smell his revenge!
And whoever he is after, it will be disaster:
This man is gonna take him to the very end....
Well, the landlord he trembled, staring at a face he'd seen somewhere
before.
(you met him in his room)
Suddenly remembers a killing, yes, a murder, many weeks before.
('twas you that shot him down)
He said to a boy: grab a supersoaker, I'll meet you down below.
With this man I must talk, yes with this assassin I'll go,
With this man I must talk, yes with him I must go.
There is something in his eyes, something in his hands,
I can almost smell his revenge!
And it's me that he's after, it will be disaster:
This man is gonna take me to the very end....
And he was never seen again!
So I'm walking towards her practical, as you do, when finally, she steps out. It's her, I'm absolutely positive. Because instead of walking on by, she eyeballs me.
I mean proper, in the eyes, I know you want (to kill) me, kinda eyeballing.
So anyway, that's not so bad. Sometimes this game is neat and tidy and sometimes it isn't. Doesn't bother me which, really. At all in fact.
But then, this guy, with the oddest orange hair I've ever seen, he looks at me too. And he steps in front of her.
Now this made it tricky for me. I mean, this game is called Assassin, not Massacre. I could take them both, but that wouldn't be right. It's just not the done thing.
So I let them go, and follow as discretely as possible. That is to say, I stood behind a tall person everytime the ginger-haired one turned round to eyeball me some more.
Thing is, I don't know why I'm following. I'm a busy man and clearly this hired bodyguard is gonna get in my way.
So I follow them a while, but they don't break, so in the end I have to give up and leave them be.
It's only the next day I discover this guy is dead, and she was carrying his corpse around as a cover. Sick, eh? People these days, I don't know.
Anyway, like I said, I gave up at that point, because things just weren't gonna work out. But next time - do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?
Dear Mr. Umpire,
Today I saw Chris Field, he obviously needed a shave, and to be honest isn't nearly as handsome as you are.
Yours,
Stephen McCann
Stephen has assured the Umpire that he was of the belief that Rosemary Warner was going to make an attempt on Sarah on the morning in question, and was staying near her in order to counter ambush the nefarious wanted criminal. However, having realised that these actions may have made other players more wary of attacking Sarah, he has requested to be removed from the game, so he is unable to influence events in the same way again.
An experiment was carried out to determine the nature and characteristics of Sarah Tang. Miss Tang was placed close to the end of a lecture. The natural tendency in this state is for her to return home for lunch. Observations were carried out near to her home, but experimental data proved difficult to acquire. Sources of error in this experiment included those introduced by the sensitivity of the equipment used and Stephen McCann. These errors were so large that the data collected is unreliable enough to be disregarded.
A second experiment was performed in an environment where the previous errors were under greater control. The method was similar, but this time the principle reaction was in reverse. Unfortunately the experimental errors were again too great to collect reliable data. This time they included bedders and a resident making porridge for breakfast.
I didn't see anyone.
I wish I had seen Chris Field, though.
Come out, come out, wherever you are!
THE HOUR HAS COME!!
"It's nearly spring! The flowers are blooming ..."
"THEY SMELL BAD!!!! WEED THEM OUT!!!!!!!"
"... the birds are chirping ..."
"TOO NOISY!!!!!!! EXTERMINATE THEM!!!!!!"
"... the rabbits are breeding ..."
"THEY SMELL BAD!!!! AND THEY'RE NOISY!!!!!! AND THEY USE UP OUR VALUABLE ATMOSPHERIC OXYGEN!!!!!!!!!!!"
"How exactly are rabbits noisy?"
"MASSACRE THEM!!!!!!!! SLAUGHTER THE LOT!!!!!!!!! GENOCIDE IS THE WAY FORWARD!!!!!!!"
Well, if you say so.
We'll have rabbit pie for dinner tonight.
I hear it doesn't taste like chicken.
I should like to dedicate this kill/incident (delete whichever is inappropriate) to Rosie, for whom it was originally intended.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the Cambridge Colleges' class of 2005,
If I could offer you only one tip for assassins, gloves would be it*. The long term survival benefits of gloves have been proved by twelve years of assassins games, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own limited experience.
I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and anonymity of your first game; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and anonymity of your first game until it's over. But trust me, in three years you'll look back at your old kill reports and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how innocent you really were. You're not as invulnerable as you imagine.
Don't worry about the people trying to kill you; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to stay competent by sitting in your room all day. The real threats to your life are apt to be people who never crossed your paranoid mind; the target who claimed to be his neighbour and knifes you in the street at 4pm one random Tuesday.
Make some attempts each week that scare you.
Donât bother to lose the game, other game and membership of the club frequently; Ed Heaney does it enough for all of us.
Be reckless with alliances, shoot people who are reckless with trust.
Lock your door.
Don't waste your time on bitterness; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind... the race is long, and in the end, it's only a game. Remember the kills you make, learn from your mistakes; youâll never forget them no matter how hard you try. Keep copies of poisoned letters you sent, throw away those you receive.
Always carry a weapon.
Don't feel guilty if you what you try to do to your target doesnât work properly... some of the best assassins I know went wanted in their first game; some of the most interesting old assassins I know still do...
Get plenty of extra rubber bands.
Be nice to your allies, theyâll miss you when youâre dead.
Maybe you'll have allies, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have godchildren, maybe you won't, maybe you'll die in the first week, maybe an unhealthily competitive colleague will do the funky chicken after CPSing you outside his room. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either - your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.
Enjoy the game, play it any way you want... don't be afraid of how you play, or what other people think of you, it's the greatest game you'll ever play.
Practise shooting... Corkscrew makes a tempting target, and he wonât remember by the morning.
Read the rules, and bend them as far as possible without spoiling anyone elseâs fun.
Do not try to kill Bjoernandjenny in May Week with just a band gun, they will only laugh.
Get to know your bedder, you never know when she'll warn you of something.
Be nice to your porters; they are bad people to get on the wrong side of and the people most likely to throw your assassin out of your college.
Understand that alliances come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the targetting information of the people you allied with when you were young.
Live in Christâs once, but leave before the evil mafia corrupts you; live in Caius once, but leave before the evil mafia corrupts you.
Visit all the colleges.
Accept certain inalienable truths, mafias will arise, other godparents will taunt you, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were a fresher mafias didn't exist, godparents didn't set their minions on you and players didnât bribe the Umpire.
Bribe your Umpire.
Don't expect anyone else to help you. Maybe you have a vast mafia, maybe you have two Irish allies watching your back; but you never know when either might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're a third year, it will look like Rosieâs hat.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the archived game list, wiping it off, apologising for the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the gloves...
*note: until recently string would have been it. But now bombs are illegal, so string is somewhat pointless.
The Umpire notes that while bribing The Umpire is to be encouraged, the only purpose it serves is to transfer biscuits to The Umpire, and therefore shouldn't be attempted if any favours are expected in return.
Clio's report will be published at the end of the game, as the description it give could possibly maybe feasably be of use to other players. (Or not.)
Chris your drop shot technique is truly a wonder to behold.
Il Douche is an incompetent fool. And if he were to duel a pancake, I know who my money would be on (unless the pancake is a cherry one, they're just gay). It would be impossible to predict that one.
Dearest Umpire,
I think this will be the last time I write to you with such exciting news. Strangely enough, I am informing you of an incident which you yourself witnessed. Everyone knows how bad Michael is, and I wasn't going to let him get away with his terrible naughtiness. So, when I remembered that he was an incompetent police officer I had no choice but to bang him. His arms and legs that is. Left completely helpless and at my mercy I had my evil way with him. I quickly fashioned a twelve-sided dice out of a fluffy twenty-sided dice, a label and some string. Throwing this finally gave Michael the release he so longed for, and as I was spent, we all sat down and played nanofictionary.
Yours,
Chris Field
The Umpire reports
In a faraway city of the land of Cambridge there was a man. That man was a time traveller of assassins games past, visiting for the week... and his name was Michael. He was enjoying watching the game, but he hadn't done anything since 1888, and as a result he was incompetent.
In his incompetent manner, he sat in the Chardcave, talking about sea presidents and little black cats, and super evolved broccoli, and other such rubbish, when suddenly there was a knocking.
"Who is it?" came the question.
"Dude! it's like... me dude! open up dude!" came the response... And sure enough, when the door opened, the dude who always says dude was there... just waiting to come in and dude it up. We invited him in for a party, but we were out of food, and so we had to find other things to entertain ourselves with.
Suddenly, bored with the whole lack of food, The dude who always says dude decided to complicate matters. "Oh my god he's got a gun! Chard screamed in his little "alice the schoolgirl from the future" way... but he was wrong, for as soon as the gun was drawn and fired it was gone again, and replaced with a horrible apparition from beyond... a Twelve sided die.
what happened next was too horrible to put into words... and no-one ever heard from Michael again.
Dear Dear Umpire,
Although I would classify today as a reasonably productive day, I did not manage to see Pamela Brent, Chris Field, Robin Message, Adam Fraser, or Thomas Hill. I did compile the following information, nevertheless:
1) Pamela Brent (possible physical description.)
2) Robin Message is a member of Robinson College (/me wonders if there was any other reason for their choosing that college except for that it is their namesake)
3) Homerton is very far away indeed. Very.
4) If no one opens the door into a shared house, you will not gain entry.
5) Chris Field is not nearly as handsome as you are, Dear Umpire. Nor is he even as handsome as Stephen McCann. But Chris, this is only relative, you are rather attractive in your own right, in my humble opinion.
All my love,
Sarah
I'm dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Somebody (I'm presuming Sarah Tang) just shot me and two civilians with rubber band gun - very naughty.
Anyhoo, have fun at the duel. See you around!
You thought there couldn't be more wanteds, but guess what there's more wanteds! Sarah's redemption conditions are three legal targets, or winning the game.
I am, almost always, a happy person.
I am, almost as always, a trigger-happy person.
I succumbed to bloodlust.
I walked in through Pamela Brent's open door into her room and shot two girls in the head.
I am aware that this was needless killing, but it got the job done.
I accept that I may not survive much longer.
I would like lilies and orchids at my wake, please.
I lurked for Chris Field, but he just stayed in bed and let radar do all the work.
Had a nice chat with Spingu Schmingu and his friend when they came and stood under my window ("just out of RBG range"). I would have offered them platonic biscuits, but I had none left. Pity that.
While punting the Spingumoboat at speed along the Cam, I received a call from an anonymous tipster, alerting me to the fact that a brutal and savage attack on my fortress had left three splattered across the walls of a room in the West Wing (colloquially known as "B Block") of Harvey Court. Responding to this news, I handed control of the ship to Ensign Oxtoby, and headed to the war room to make preparations for an assault on the perpetrator of the offense.
Briefly regaining control to skillfully land the craft at Port Granta, I collected an army and we marched upon Stephen McCann's house, where he was not. Nor was Sarah, who by now it appears was the murderer of two innocent and very fluffy Caians. So instead I marched upon Sarah's house of ill repute, the part of Trinity with the silly blue boar, and set up an XP-240 to snipe with. Unfortunately I was spotted by an observant lady living above Sarah, and so left without getting to shoot at the wanted criminal. Guess Tom will get her when he comes back then :)
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My new status as a Wanted has brought with it a massive increase in the number of people who stand below my window and throw stones at it.
However, I find myself rendered exceedingly antisocial, and as such, did not open the window and return the greeting, for which lack of manners I apologise to the thrower of stones.
I wonder if they live in a glass house.
Why is it that no matter how many millions of pairs of socks a man buys he never seems to have any?
Having learnt that Sarah had a lecture at 12.00, I decided to lurk it on the off-chance that she'd actually go (highly unlikely by this stage of the game, but you never know...). I'd hoped to turn up quarter of an hour beforehand, but I was delayed, and only managed to arrive slightly after 5 to. By this time there were already people in the theatre. I had a look in, but didn't manage to spot her, so I hung around outside and waited to see if she'd turn up. She didn't, or at least hadn't by ten past, at which point I got fed up of waiting and left, intending to come back and lurk the end of the lecture. This I later decided I really couldn't be bothered to do.
Revelation is not the messiah, he's a VERY NAUGHTY BOY. And as part of his naughtiness he got Sarah to come into Caius, where he had told her that I was walking around unarmed. He later revealed that by 'unarmed', he actually meant I wasn't carrying a CPS around in the open. So after ratifying the party forms, thus ensuring my victory by being the technical host, Nick and I left the staircase of my tutor, only to see Rev with a girl, Nick recognised her and gave chase, as did I. After rugby tackling his way through the naughty boy, Nick made it outside of Caius, I followed having told said naughty boy that he wasn't supposed to be manhandling me. Nick was being shot when I got outside, but Sarah wasn't really looking so I shot her. I kept shooting her until she noticed, and then explained who I was. Then it transpired just how naughty Revelation can be when he wants to, including trying to bang kill me just because I was still holding my gun, yet clearly not attacking him, and some even more naughty things. Anyway, Sarah was lovely and thankfully proved her sanity by suggesting that I might almost be as good looking as Steve McCann. I will add that she was indeed very short, and just about came up to my waist, hopefully causing Rosie to lose the game.
Captain Spingu Schmingu of the Harvey Court Police died today, gunned down by a wanted criminal outside Caius, laying down his life to protect all that is fluffy and dreamy inside. Seeing the highly dangerous Sarah Tang entering his college, he bravely gave chase at speed 7, only to be blocked under the Gate of Plodgness by the bent copper Revelation, who it now seems was in league with the malefactor from Trinity from the very beginning. Struggling past the corrupt Special Boy, Captain Schmingu went for his infamous banana shaped RBG, but was hit in the back by the dastardly Miss Tang, who had hidden round the corner instead of following Revelation's instructions to run. With his dying breath, he called for the Big Daddy of all police, "In Soviet Russia Target Kills You", and asked that he hunt down and destroy the lying, cheating, and deceiving Judas who is Revelation. We can only hope that this has been carried out for the sake of the good people of Cambridge.
I find that, at the moment of my death, when I felt the rubber bands sting the side of my head and felt my soul separating from my body, my multiple personalities have broken apart completely from one another, and they each have something to say.
Where one Flying Grayson falls, another will rise in his place from the broken, bleeding mush on the floor of the circus ring, rather like a phoenix, but not. The purveyors of Justice can never be extinct. I have already brought more than one Pest to his Righteous Doom and I am confident that other Sinful Wastrels will not be long behind.
The extermination of people who may or may not be completely free of any kind of Sin, who get in my way, is not an issue to me. I am not that kind of superhero.
"Christopher Field? Unarmed?? Nearby??? Vulnerable???? LET'S GET HIM!!!!!!!!"
"Hold up, he will probably have a gun in his pants."
"No, I think he'd just be happy to see me."
"That too, but..."
"KILL!!!! KILL KILL KILL!!!!"
[cue the red mist lowering over vision, and evidently also dulling nerve endings in back]
There is a corpse on the ground, and used ammo strewn everywhere.
"Hah! You're dead!"
^And so are you!^
Who said that?
"Who the hell are you?!"
^I'm Chris Field. Nice to meet you,^ he said, shaking our hand and tucking his gun back into his pants.
I could have stayed in my room for the next two days and made it to the duel. But no, my bloodlust led me to my doom.
Actually, I blame Revelation. And also myself, because by now I should have learned never to listen to him.
As 'mmm' as Trinitarians are, Caians aren't half bad either. Chris Field is indeed rather handsome (though not nearly as much as our darling Umpire whom I have had the pleasure of meeting in person, and I'm saying no more with regards to Stephen McCann) but not as much taller than me as he would like to think. Unless his waist is in a dramatically different place than most people's.
After a full two days of me ridiculing Il Douche for his miserable attempt on Chris Field on Saturday evening, he decided that he would have to prove his manhood by challenging the Cherry Pancake of Doom and Destruction (from hereon referred to as "the Pancake") to a duel. For this event, I bestowed temporary umpirical powers upon myself, and here is a report of what happened.
As the Pancake was unable to decide on a duelling weapon, I chose and supplied RBGs on its behalf. Il Douche chose his weapon and I furnished the Pancake with the other. When both guns were loaded, I stood back to a safe distance, waited for sunrise and then declared a start to the duel.
At first, both players tried to gain the psychological advantage, eyeballing (or cherrying) each other for a while. Eventually Il Douche fired a shot, but the pancake seemed to be too quick for him. The band ricocheted harmlessly off the table. Il Douche then fired a volley of four or so bands, all of which flew well wide of their target. By this point it was clear that the Pancake was having trouble with its RBG, as it had fired no shots. I suspect that this was because the gun had jammed, but maybe it was a tactical ploy, or just possibly it was because the Pancake is, in fact, an inanimate object. At this point Il Douche panicked and fired all of his remaining bands at the Pancake, none of which even hit the Table. I could see that this was going nowhere, so I called a temporary ceasefire.
Stupid RBG, I'd swear it's not straight.
I decided that as neither party could competently use an RBG, I would have to give them both a sword for round 2, which proved slightly more eventful.
First blood was drawn almost straight away, when Il Douche dropped his sword on his own foot.
Stupid bloody gravity, why doesn't it do that to everybody else? Why does it pick on me? I bet Chris Field put it up to that.
I did indeed bribe gravity. I had to give it the bones of Isaac Newton, since it's still bitter about being figured out.
A vicious swordfight continued for a good five minutes, with one contestant somewhat resembling a frenzied windmill on speed, the other still looking like an inanimate object on a table.
This round also came to something of a stalemate when Il Douche bent his sword in half on the Table.
Damn you, the Pancake, I'll get you next time!!!
As I was getting quite fed up of this by now, I declared that the third round (to be played after Il Douche's foot had recovered) would be no-holds-barred wrestling, decided by one pin, submission or count out, the loser of which would be executed by me.
They started in proper WWF style, with a lot of shouting and jumping (but slightly less stripping). Then Il Douche started making some attacks, all of which were impeded by the Table. Meanwhile the Pancake kept a cool head, making no attacks. I suspect that this was in order to conserve energy, but there are theories that this happened because it is, in fact, an inanimate object. After a further twenty minutes of blood, sweat and tears, Il Douche was looking exhausted. Just as I thought he had lost the match, Il Douche fell onto the table, with his arm partially on the Pancake. This counted as a pin. Therefore, Il Douche was technically the winner.
YES!!! YES!!! Go the me!!! What we do in life echoes in eternity. [singing gleefully] I am the one and only, can't take that away from me!!!
I then suggested that Il Douche take on a Swiss roll, an idea which made him run away, screaming like a big girly girl.
Then my one remaining duty was to execute the pancake, in a manner of my choosing. Around about the time the Pancake reached my small intestine, I realised that this has probably made me corrupt, as the Pancake is a non-player and was no longer bearing. Oh dear.
Took ages to find his blasted room. Hung around for half an hour, but as an art student he probably stays in bed all morning anyway. On the plus side, the grounds really are lovely, recommend the trip to anyone, it's really nice.
Dearest and truest Umpire,
It has only just become apparent that I have been emailing a Mr. David Birch instead of you! How I could make such a terrible mistake, I don't know! I am truly sorry. I'm sure this Birch fellow isn't nearly as handsome as you are! My affections lie firmly with you, and I can assure you that I shall not be unfaithful again. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.
Yours,
Chris Field
The time has come, I hear you say,
to lock up in your room.
You'll never see the light of day,
but cower, in the gloom.
So it comes down to this. Four paranoid-hardened individuals have made it this far, and proven themselves truly impossible to get hold of... at least most of the time. A truce has been called, and the remaining players shall duel for the game tomorrow. They are as follows:
Thank-you everyone for an enjoyable game, and I hope to see you at tomorrow's party.
The duel in short: Thomas shot Chris' left arm, then died to a hail of bands from Adam and Robin. Robin died to Adam in a staircase, then the duel relocated to the roof of Cripps building St. John's college for the showdown, where Chris bested Adam in a close fight.
It shall end as it was begun. Mazrael shall be the one to dispense the words of The Umpire to His loyal subjects and minions. All shall bow before him as Mazrael recounts the tale of the coming of the angel of death and his triumph over lesser beings in the name of The Umpire. In the beginning... he too was struck down in revelation.
As with all things, they begin as they end and end as they begin. Mazrael returned to the realm of The Umpire. Triumphant.
Now now, there's no need for such an awfully clichéd introduction. Please don't forget that you weren't the only one there! I think we all deserve to share in The Umpire's glory, or not, depending on your faith. Why don't you start, Mazrael, and then we can all say our own piece?
Very well. In the beginning there was the word, and that word was KILL. The Umpire followed this with the words EVERYBODY DEAD, and many heeded His call. Whilst confusion briefly reigned over the nature of his statement, the angel of death in human form descended with orders to take three souls into the afterlife. These initial three were Paul Fox, Russ Williams and Neil Morrison.
Oh man, oh yeah, I really dig that foxy dude, I hear his ladies stay up *all* night if you know what I mean...
Since the prominence of the mortal known as Foxy was evident, the angel proceeded to track his movements. The Umpire had in all His wisdom seen it fit to make angels fallible, however. This led to an inability to find the quarry until a suspicious character was seen cycling towards the WGB the building of the computer scientists. Following this man revealed him not to be the Foxy of previous note, but did lead to a blessed encounter with the self-proclaimed King of Wrong. In the name of The Umpire and with a just and holy weapon he was struck down, the mendacity of his divine right providing no defence.
You showed him. Shot him real good. Like a deadly angel cake:
Oh that sounds quite delicious, aside from the death aspect of course. Why don't you all carry on whilst I see what I can whip up in the library kitchen?
The game proceeded. The Umpire grew worried. The lack of deaths troubled his mighty mind, and whilst foodstuffs were dispatched to eliminate the nefarious heretics amongst us, Mazrael sought to further glory the name of The Umpire. The opportunity was presented by a favoured soul of The Umpire, whose aid proved invaluable. For Richard Gibson was seen before the eyes of the angel, and with a swift and deft movement he too was struck down in revelation.
When you ain't got that groove, well you just ain't gonna last the night. Gotta get dancin', oh yeah. I ain't one for all this 'Umpire' shizzle but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. And Thomas Robinson, he just did not have the right stuff. He couldn't shake, he couldn't slide, he could barely wave his hands. What kinda brother is he? I sure showed him a thing or two on the Senate House dance floor though.
TeX really has a thing for disco. Made that kill 'one fine day'. Great song by the chiffons there, but chiffon makes a far better cake:
Woah woah woah, I think that someone's had a few too many brownies. Can we get back to the groove? I spy with my little eye, a sexy lady, my oh my.
Yes I think we should continue with the story thank you TeX. I remember that you tried to find that fellow with the terribly long name a couple of times without much success. I guess some people just don't appreciate your musical tastes. Well, it was only shortly after one of your attempts that I was incensed by the death of my dear namesake. I was there at his death, it was most saddening. Despite this he apparently still loves assassins so much that he's changed his name to 'Assassin Robison'. Bless his wonderful enthusiasm. I managed to achieve some form of revenge though shortly afterwards by finally removing the tediously named one. I think he took it quite well though, given that he was so inspired in his reporting.
Well well Maidan, and we all thought you were such a sweet girl! Tell me, does your name derive from Madeleine? Speaking of madeleines:
Now now, there's no need to go overboard with your culinary expertise One-Armed. We all know you like your cakes, but some of your links are tenuous, at best. Now perhaps Mazrael you could bring us up the point where the duel began so that we can get some sense out of him?
And with the numbers falling The Umpire grew pleased. The remaining few responded in different ways, some more violent than others. Indeed the very last criminal fell before the final battle, perhaps learning the error of her ways. With but four remaining souls The Umpire, in all his glory, called them to the final battle, the day of judgement. These four had sacrificed to The Umpire in varying degrees, attempting to receive his favour, but this final battle, this duel would decide all. And it did.
And that's where I came in. With my combined fighting and patisserie skills there was nobody who could stand in my way. As the final battle began, I stood as a proud warrior-baker, ready to prove myself before all. And that's how I lost my arm, so quickly in a firefight against Tom Hill on the stairway. Managing to escape so lightly left me worried, scared, I'm not afraid to now admit that. I hid beside those stairs, wary and waiting with just one arm, not even my whisking arm. How I regretted not bringing those delicious muffins into battle:
But even without such sweet cakey treats, I survived until there was but one remaining opponent. Robin taking down the arm-hitting Hill, and then Adam getting the jump on him. Proceeding to a face-to-face, honest and true duel with but one arm I was tense. It began and soon spent ammunition lay across the ground. Time passed in a blur and as my remaining hand drew another weapon and just kept firing, over and over until The Umpire spoke to me and it was at an end. I had survived. We had all survived. We had all won.
Oh yes, that moment was indeed glorious. I shall treasure it for the rest of my time.
Sweet, it was as sweet as the first step out in a new pair of platforms. As sweet as getting down on a lit-up dance floor. Everybody got down, everybody got FUNKY!
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