The Assassins' Guild - Week 6 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 6 NewsI had a cunning plan. I had my hiding spot worked out. I had a route to the kill plotted. Unfortunately, there was a van parked in the way of my route.
So I hid behind it, and chased Felicity on my bike when she appeared. Then shot her 6 times in the back.
In an attempt to avoid the almost inevitable lurk of the back route away from lectures, I left very rapidly through the front entrance. I'd relaxed just sufficiently to be chiefly paying attention to the fascinating spectacle of 2 Pembrokians trying to cross a road, when I became vaguely aware of someone cycling up the pavement behind me. The sensible reaction would have been to either have run (probably pointless), or draw rapidly. Unfortunately, whilst my thoughts at the time showed a most commendable commitment to general cycling safety, they were a little lacking in immediate self-preservation:
"Why is that idiot cycling on the busy pavement when there's a perfectly good road?"
A few seconds later, this idiot discovered the reason, to the accompaniment of a series of clicks and a novel way of stopping a bike with broken brakes. Oops.
[following excessive demand, Milk the Cow has appointed a translator for his reports]
1.55pm: Mooooo. [Milk the Cow is cold and bored] 1.57pm: Mooooooo. [Milk the Cow is still cold and bored, but has just tried to divide something by the modulus of h] 1.58pm: Moo. [Milk the Cow is dissatisfied at the results] 2.00pm: Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!! [Milk the Cow has spotted Chris Field, MA, and is finding it hard to do anything *but* go over all gooey] 2.01pm: Moo. [Milk the Cow is disappointed in Chris Field's reaction to being offered some of his milk] 2.02pm: Moooooo! [Milk the Cow plots revenge, not least against Chris Field, but also Caius (the not nice bits), and will ensure that it involves milk, but not nice milk, oh no...] 2.03pm: Moooo. [Milk the Cow attempts to integrate on a spiral path...]
/me lactates
Would you lurk for over 2 hours in the freezing cold futilely getting more than a fair share of strange looks, making the experience all the sourer by finding out on the way back that the intended target was already dead by someone else's hand?
Rolf Wood
10 Steps for competence
Step 1: Go to CoOp
Step 2: Chat about weather
Step 3: Buy Liquorice for warmpth
Step 4: Go to target's domain
Step 5: Wander around eating liquorice
Step 6: Avoid being trampled by crazy girls
Step 7: Wander some more
Step 8: Spy suspicous person!!!!
Step 9: Realise suspicous person is over 50 years old.
Step 10: Go to college to report coldness of appendages
Monday 21/11/05 4pm Arrive st Christ's to kill Alex Labram. Fail to kill him - he becomes alerted to my presence.
4:30pm Gain access to his room by making a temporary no-kill agreement with him. Use his IRC to call Ed Heaney.
4:45pm Go to Ed Heaney's room. He opens the door without a weapon. I think this is so pathetic that I cannot be bothered to actually kill him.
5pm
Leave Christ's.
Comment: the game is not as entertaining as it was at the beginning.
I saw Christopher Field MA and all I got was this lousy pseudonym.
Upon learning that we had yet another inco, I vowed that he would be dead by sundown. Revenge-driven? Moi? Enlisting the help of the well-meaning but sadly misunderstood Steve McCann, I made my way, heavily armed, to Bateman Street, where we hung around outside for about half an hour, until we were, eventually, able to follow a housemate inside.
We discovered that the estimable S. Mounsey Esq had pinned a note on the front door saying "VISITORS MAY BE ASSASSINS BE VIGILANT" (although I fear the updates page can't quite do justice to the poor scrawl of the sign). What's more, he had left his room door open, with the key in the lock.
We waited, in case he had gone to the kitchen/bathroom/outhouse. After about half an hour, it became clear he had not, and was in fact at a practical or somesuch. Mr McCann left me after about an hour to go to King's Voices, and I stayed for a further hour and a half (just long enough to read "Heart of Darkness") at which point the public-spirited Xanth took over from me.
It's a bit frustrating that after so much investment of time, he still isn't dead, but hopefully Xanth can rectify this a little later.
This was perhaps the most simple kill that I have managed this game. Compared to the detailed planning that had gone into my previous successes, I'm slightly ashamed of this one. It all began last night, when I was celebrating the fact that I had passed Sweet Sweet ♥ Paranoia 404 MAXX (Boy on Boy Trance Remix), a little known 7.Π-step track that had eluded me for some time. My apple juice tasted all the sweeter for it, and I even allowed myself to lick the label on my graduation beans for sustenance, obviously not touching the tin and spoiling their tomatoey goodness forever. Suddenly I heard a strange noise from my bedroom, and fearing that one of the other small assassins might have crawled their way up through the water pipes, I grabbed my gun and dashed through the door. Instead of the grin of a deranged trinitarian that I expected, I saw none other than myself, standing next to a strange device fashioned from tin cans and multiple games controllers.
It took some explaining from my alternate self, but soon it all made sense. After losing this game of assassins I played one last time in Lent, only to die on day one to a poisoned letter. This drove me into such a state that I ended up failing my degree in maths, and I don't mean Flying_O type failing. For the next few years I found myself unemployed and living at home. I spent week after week denying myself sleep, lounging around in a tomato-sauce stained t-shirt, completely forgoing all exercise, even DDR, and playing nothing but constant Disgaea. My alternate self couldn't remember the exact details, but apparently at 4am one morning my all-female party somehow achieved transcedence within the game, only achievable after 999 of played hours, 9 run throughs and with all their stats at 999999. This unlocked secret information within the code, revealing a design for a rudimentary time machine, based on the processor from the PS2. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, perhaps it really was the game, but this was what brought me to meet myself.
Moving on quickly, I had a plan. I took the time machine back to the past. My future self explained that by changing events he would no longer exist, but the machine would. I mean, really, physics isn't my thing. Travelling into history, I overshot slightly and ended up in dynastic Japan. Unfortunately as I was reconfiguring the controls on the GBA screen, I dropped the Azumanga Daioh manga I was reading on the trip, and then zapped out. Maybe that's why Japan is so screwed up these days, who knows. I finally arrived at my destination in 1989, and hid the machine in some bushes before stealthily travelling to my target's house. I had my RBG in my pocket, just in case anyone had had the same delusional Disgaea moment and chosen to follow me, and of course had disguised myself in period costume - a black hoodie, baggy jeans and trainers. When I reached the house I used the key my other self had given me, opened the door and crept in. The whole situation reminded me of that time I spent three hours lurking.. sorry, I digress. Inside, I swiftly stole the item I required, a soft toy. Then I returned to the present, upon which, obviously, the time machine ceased to exist.
With just hours to spare I leapt to the rooftops and made my way to the abode of Mr. Mounsey. I carefully placed the soft toy on the path outside the door to the building, knowing he would leave any second. Crouching with my rbg painfully poking into my ribs on his roof, I waited and watched. Sure enough he left the building, and I could have so very easily shot him from above, but I daren't take the risk of revealing myself, even though I was still disguised as a denizen of the late 80s. He re-entered the building, and moments later left for lectures. My plan had succeeded. So confused by the appearance of his missing childhood friend was he, that he had forgotten to lock his room. I snuck in through the water-pipes, as I was so scared others might have done in my room and sat and waited. I waited for sometime. Obviously the soft-toy had ceased to exist when I entered his room, and I had left my manga in Japan, so I amused myself by plotting the exact trajectory of my rubber bands, so as to optimally land them in his chest. I also replayed several amusing episodes of Lovely Nurse Nuns Saga X: Reloaded in my head and chuckled quietly to myself. Finally, when he returned home, I shot him dead. As the first rubber band landed, I was already half way out of the door and running. I ran from his house to Newcastle in just a few hours and settled in for the last few days of the game.
As for my future self, who knows what he will turn out to be like really. I do hope I never grow up. If I do, I could at least become some kind of robo-dicatator of Xanthylvania, else what's the point, really?
my demise
as i turned the corner onto bateman street (from the bottom end so as not to become predictable) i threw loose my trusty shotgun which has backed me up for so many paranoia filled days. i was just wondering whether to go lurk in th ekitchen of xanth but i decided to at least go pick up the CPS before heading out again.
i cycled the full length of bateman twice, looking for any suspicious people....that done i pulled up and locked up as quickly as i could and entered what i was SURE was my safe haven.... assassins would kill (if it was legal) to live in a fortress like number 23, and with the pavlovian conditioning of the girls i live with almost complete, i knew that none of them could ever let a stranger in without the uncontrolable urge to blow on a whistle.
however, my carefuly laid plans have failed! alas that i should be undone by an un-oiled door closeure and a stiff lock.
xanth was waiting in the dark of my room. he pointed and shot and the kill was clean. whoa is me.
contray to his report however, there was no stuffed toy...and he diddn't run off...he stayed for a nice cuppa tea (green with lemon) and a chat about assassins. it was nice! :-) :-) :-) then we compared guns. i like guns. :-) :-) :-) but i still wish him dead for not comming out of his room more often... and that cursed umpire for making me inco. :-(
it is now that i should confess my sinful and criminal conduct during
my more alive days:
i did knowingly and on several occasions test my super soakers on my
dog.
i frequently hacked off the limbs of my housemates as they tried to
steal food off me, and I sometimes ate their biscuits
i also shot my girlfriend with a big nerf rocket and made her
cry....and presumably killed her too....
i guess i deserve to die.
until next time assassins.....may it be sooner than you think
mrahahahaha
22nd Nov 2005
2:10pm Nothing to do decide to go lurking
2:20pm Arrive at Raccoon's Room
2:21pm Proceed to lurk awaiting his return
2:25pm Quickly check window
3:29pm Hear light turn on
3:30pm Proceed to lurk awaiting his exit
3:45pm Continue to lurk
4:00pm Begin to get impatient with his lack of exiting
4:25pm Leave
4:26pm Check window again <- Closed still
Conclusion The window was not open
Lurked Tom de Rivaz 5.10pm - 7.10pm approx.
I'm tired.
Goodnight.
[19:04] <Brightlance> It is too cold for 4 hrs
[19:04] <Brightlance> no one would ever lurk my home then
o rly?
It probably is too cold to lurk outside Thomas de Rivaz's house for 4 hours.
Dear Umpire
Today I used my l33t assassin skillz to lurk the notoriously sleepy Michael Wallace. He seemed to be asleep when I tried to look through his window. So I went and hid, in various locations, until I was approached by someone almost, but not quite, as "fit" as me, as any Sarah will tell you. It was the corrupt and rather pheared Stephen Matthew Mark Luke John Peter Thomas McCann, so being me, I made a hasty TACTICAL RETREAT out of there, disguised as an Irish Gnome for sale in the market.
Yours
The most handsome, pheared, and god-damn dreamy assassin in Cambridge,
The Public Enemy, Captain Charismatic, Steph "BOOM BOOM" Mersenne, The
Big Heap of Noise, MA
Raccoons es un el m??s so??oliento de animales, y nunca sale de sus cuartos a menos que tengan que absolutamente.
Awww, don't run away from me - I'm not *that* scary. Am I?
Apparently little Jeremy Asquadgle was too subtle to have been spotted. Somehow.
Dearest Maz,
Having just arrived home, and hearing strange noises through my (open) window, I looked out to see The Mystery Lurker and an accomplice (I can make a guess at who this was, but wouldn't wish to as their face was obscured by the porch) standing at the front door to G Burrell's. After a brief discussion, they opened the door (they'd obtained a Buttery card from somewhere, and again I could make an intelligent guess at where) and charged inside. About 2 minutes later, I picked up twin RBGs and my newly-trained killer elephant and headed off very quietly to meet the intruders.
However, after sweeping all 3 floors, and after considering whether anybody honestly ever lurked them, all the bathrooms as well, I had to conclude that they'd gone as quickly as they'd invaded. All well and good, you might think.
My problems, however, are as follows.
Having received information that they had definitely not left by the Burrell's Field-side door, I spent quite a lot of time initially watching the other main door with guns ready. They did not reappear at any point and I am forced to conclude that the most likely exit was by the door that NO ONE is supposed to use except in an emergency. This door has a very large note stuck to it which says it is not to be opened. It says this in big letters, too. Also this door is within view - actually, let's not understate, it is OPPOSITE the window of the Plodge, which is only about 7 feet away at most.
I sincerely hope that I'm wrong about that one, as such behaviour is likely to lead to a general sending of sniffy disciplinary notes to all residents of G, which will lead to my neighbours getting annoyed with me for bringing this down on them. All of this of course only applies if anyone actually used this door; I have no evidence to prove this actually happened as yet.
Problem number 2: my neighbour Sally was somewhat upset (again I understate) to be surprised by someone lurking in the bathroom when she attempted to use it. She says he "looked about 12". She also says that the next time anyone does anything as annoying in her vicinity again she will attack them with her own water pistol. I wouldn't annoy her. At least be prepared to apologise if you're going to play silly buggers - a second offence is likely to bring out one of her collection of full-size replica swords.
Problem the last, and most aggravating:
WHY WAS THERE AN ATTACK ON MY STAIRCASE WHICH LED TO ME SEEING ABSOLUTELY NO ACTION? Apparently people assumed I wasn't in after all of 5 minutes' looking around for me (I left my door unlocked the entire time, dammit!).
Regards,
Sarah
PS. Since I was in my room in Burrell's up to and including the time Ned A. Kelly: Australian Outandinandoutandinandoutagainandagainlaw was lurking Steve's room, and since Steve had by then also come to Burrell's, and since we are both good, hard-working, degree-focused Catholics, I really do doubt that anything censorable was going on behind the door.
The Umpire reports:
Players are reminded to avoid unnecessarily inconveniencing non-players. Hiding in someone's bathroom is not technically "silly buggers", although it may inconvenience those wishing to use the bathroom. Players are also reminded that they may not threaten physical harm to other players or ask non-players to threaten physical harm (although he does not believe this has happened). The Umpire suggests that if players live in a place where harmless assassins are likely to cause unreasonable offence to people, leading to actual violence, it may be inappropriate for them to play. Hopefully this is not the case, though.
Finally, as a good, hard-working, degree-focused Catholic, the Umpire would like to express his sympathy towards Sarah Donnelly and Steve McCann, should any allegations of any censorable behaviour be made against them.
It isn't easy being a cop.
Today I stabbed a fellow officer in the chest as we were enjoying a drink in Robinson bar. It is not a pleasant thing, to execute in cold blood one whom you once fought alongside, but it is a policeman's duty to enforce the law.
Constable Penfold
I have died, again, stabbed in the chest this time.
Grrr.
At around 10.20pm I ran into Nick Plummer returning from a formal.
Weapons were brought out (to anyone who thinks "game": not that kind).
No one was killed.
Lame?
Maybe.
The sources regarding the events of the night of 24th November 2005 are confused and probably for the most part unreliable, but it seems clear that the evening can only sensibly be regarded in a similar manner to the Hundred Years War or the Reconquista of Spain; not as a continuous, prolonged event but as a few short sporadic bursts of conflict lent a wider context by longer periods of idleness and inactivity. The most reliable source available, and the one which henceforth I shall defer to as an account of principle events, is the testimony of the leader of the faction known as the Police, who for some reason lost to the mists of time was known as "purple bra", although it seems his true name was Tom:
'The SWAT Team convened in the Bath House at 8pm, and though disappointed by the numbers who arrived we progressed to King's shortly before 9pm. We had an inkling that matters were not progressing entirely to plan; Philip had mentioned seeing Ed Heaney and Corkscrew with a CPS on his way over***. Nonetheless we pressed ahead.
'We entered King's successfully and were making our way towards Steve McCann's staircase when Steve, Ed and Corkscrew appeared out of the bar, heavily armed.**** Agent Caulderwood sprinted away, and Philip and Lottie followed his lead. Tim sought cover, and I ran a short distance away, turning back just in time to see Tim fall victim to the massed firepower of the enemy. The three rogues, leaving Tim's body where it fell, retreated back to the bar.
'My own forces were scattered, so I pursued them, almost to the back gate of King's, to regroup. After several minutes we were all gathered, and had retrieved the body of The Short Arm. He was rapidly getting colder, and we needed to get him inside or send him quickly back to Churchill. In the end we decided to scout out Steve's staircase, and this dangerous operation was undertaken by Agent Caulderwood and myself, both of us returning safely, sure that Steve had not yet returned home. We were then attacked by all three of the rogue officers, but no casualties were sustained on either side.
'The only reliable exit from the college was at the front, but we were sure there was an ambush waiting there for us. As we waited, Steve and Ed, who had worked their way around the river path, attacked us from behind, almost killing Philip. As they fled again, Philip and James gave chase, disappearing almost instantly into the darkness that covered most of the court.
'Lottie and I stayed with Tim, until after a few minutes we heard Philip's Wildfire sound, and realised the two officers were in danger. Leaving Lottie to look after Tim, I ran round the river path to intervene. I managed to get past both Steve and Ed to find Corkscrew trapped between the heavily wounded Philip and James.***** As I watched, Philip was killed by a burst from Corkscrew's weapon. As he had emptied the chamber, I ran forward and unloaded my gun at the traitor, but was forced to flee by return fire. Ed and Steve gave pursuit.
'I shortly received communication from Agent Caulderwood, who, pursued by Ed and Steve, had exited King's and was not to return. Meanwhile Corkscrew, who I had thought mortally wounded, made his way around the court to threaten me once more. Astounded that he had survived my shooting at him, I attempted to negotiate. Negotiations were swiftly ended once Lottie appeared and stabbed him. He retained just enough breath to threaten her with his weapon, then expired.
'Urgently needing treatment for our dying comrade The Short Arm, Lottie and I forged a truce with Ed and Steve, and they allowed us to use Steve's room for treatment. Sadly however he passed away before we could reach shelter.'
The purple bra account breaks off here, however other sources reveal that following the final death of The Short Arm, participants of both sides made their peace and retreated to a public house nearby. Several accounts make explicit that Steve and the Police had agreed not to attempt to kill each other for the duration of the evening, having seen enough death. However all accounts agree on what happened next; the most lurid of which (although sadly anonymous) has been selected:
'As they were leaving the pub, Tom seemed preoccupied, and before Ed Heaney could make a move, fell upon him most violently, brandishing the Zebra Boner******. Ed, taken by surprise, had no chance to defend himself, and Tom laid into him savagely, smashing the bones of both the arms, then both the legs, of his victim. He lay squirming, screaming and pleading for mercy, but the remorseless agent of justice had no time for traitors. Fashioning a garotte, he placed it around the neck of his shattered and shrieking adversary, and strangled him to death. The visage of Ed, never a particularly pleasant one, was rendered nearly unviewable by the swollen purple tongue and bulging eyes of the corpse.'
It would appear that Ed had not been covered by the agreement not to kill one another, and that Tom's motive for the brutal killing was that Ed had been the one most responsible for the death of The Short Arm earlier in the evening. The reference to Ed's appearance seems wholly spiteful and is included in this extract only to give the reader a sense of the tone of the text as a whole. Were not all the sources in agreement on this point, one might even consider that the entire incident had been fabricated, such is the bile poured upon Ed Heaney in the remainder of the manuscript. Many historians suggested that research of Ed Heaney's character and past exploits may prove productive in understanding the universal condemnation of Heaney, but the evidence for his earlier life is sadly so scanty that it seems unlikely such a detailed study can be undertaken.
The consequences of the evening, then, were that two members of the Police were slain in the line of duty, one more fled in disgrace, and two of their enemies (who may or may not have been a rogue element of the same faction) were also killed. This provided a springboard for purple bra to continue his superb policy of... [this otherwise valuable historical study is rendered somewhat questionable by the ramblings of the historian at the conclusion. He ceases to make any coherent sense and what he does produce is largely irrelevant. References to 'party rings' and 'packets of sweets' abound.]
*The members of the Police present have been confirmed as purple bra, A Night With Venus**, Giles Caulderwood, The Embodiment of Subtlety (in person) and The Short Arm
**The exact state of the relationship between the Master and Mistress of Police has been lost to the mists of time, however this subject may merit fuller consideration if the events of the evening in question are to be fully understood.
***It is believed the antagonists to the Police faction were in fact rogue elements of the organisation led by purple bra. It has even been suggested, possibly accurately, that Ed Heaney (on whom no further information is available) may have been trusted by the MoP and even given details of the SWAT raid to follow.
****It is generally accepted that at least two CPS 2500s were deployed by the faction who attacked the police. Whatever the exact armaments present, it is clear the Police, despite numerical superiority, were heavily outgunned.
*****Most sources agree that Philip was badly wounded in both legs during the skirmish, and unable to move far.
******God only knows what the author meant by this; however other sources confirm that it is a sort of cosh.
I am tired so I shall keep this brief.
Lol SWAT raid. 2 police deaths to one inco. I stabbed Corky with a pen
although I'm not entirely sure if he was dead before that or not, so I made
sure he was.
People please note: it's too cold to use CPSes on police officers. Honest.
Yours,
Lottie
This evening a few of my fellow officers and I decided to go for a walk through Kings. Corky, Heaney and Enemy accosted us with CPS's, killing poor Tim. We decided to retreat and attempted to leave. Another altercation resulted in teh deaths of that fiend Corky at the cost of Phil.
Boom boom McCann attempted pursuit while I made my escape, but alas I was too quick for him.
It is with great regret that I submit this report of my untimely demise. Once again, my duty called me on a SWAT raid, this time to the depths of King's College. What we were not prepared for, however, was an ambush by other members of our own police force, in cahoots with the criminal underworld. I took cover, hoping to apprehend these rogue officers and bring them to justice. However, I was outnumbered and outgunned, armed only with my service pistol while the rogues were armed with high-calibre heavy assault rifles. I may or may not have hit one or more of them before I took a rifle shot to the face, felling me instantly. Thus ends...
Oh, to heck with all this formality. I'm dead now and Maz is hardly likely to reincarnate me at this stage. Either Alchemist or Corkscrew shot me in the face with a CPS and froze my head. Both of them had 2500s and when you're being shot in the face by one in the cold and dark it's hard to notice which one hit you. They'd better go corrupt for this...
The Short Arm, KIA, signing off.
Dearest, most orgasmically thrilling, dreamy and very, very special Umpire,
A little birdie told me that there would be a SWAT raid on the very, very feared Steve "Boom Boom" McCann, Enemy of the State. Now we couldn't have this at all. Therefore, myself and the only slightly special Corkscrew decided to pay a friendly visit to Steve the Enemy first. Ambushing the SWAT team from behind, and watching gleefully as they drew weapons in response to Steve's warning shot, Tim Bartram was the first to die, to my own CPS; we then performed an unsubtle ballet of death around King's, in which Corky thrillingly dodged Wildfire darts, two CPSs and a rubber band gun dealt death to Philip Bielby from three different directions and once, and then Lottie slew Corkscrew from behind. James Wardley was notable for his tactical retreat. The Chief of Police and Chief of Chief of Police then made a truce with us for the purposes of eating and drinking, and we retired to the room of the Enemy.
Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE.
What's this I hear? Edward, you say that a large police SWAT team are heading toward this land? Quick, we must get ready and unstoppable force.
We have amassed an unstoppable force, um... what next?
(the voice in my head) "now we wait".
Ah yes, now we wait. And wait. And wait. Edward notes how the water in his CPS will be going colder the longer it takes them to get here.
Ah, there they are, the plan is to fire a warning shot over them to lure them into following us, whence we destroy them.
Oh, they're running away, but one has stayed to fight... or hide, not sure which. Ah...um.... Ed, that was a little over the top, oh well, let us continue with the aforementioned plan.
(several minutes of supersecret activity later)
We have now spotted them outside my court, myself and Edward shall sneak up on them along the bang, and the third member of our elite defensive group, Corkberg shall stop them from leaving by man-ing the "archway".
We manage to get within about 20-25 metres of the SWAT team when they look round and appear to stare right at us, at this moment i realise just how out in the open we are. Edward stands behind me and says, "Steve, stop there, if we don't move they can't see us".... So we wait....and wait....and wait.
Then the Master of Police [*whipcrack*]... what was that noise? Oh well, as i was saying.. the Master of Police [*whipcrack*]...um...he started jumping and shouting, we can see you. We have been rumpled i thought, so we approach, we get within 15 metres and notice they are all looking in the opposite direction... 10 metres, ... 8 metres.... fire! Unfortunately, we shot too early which allowed them to momentarily escape.
But then we run them down in the darkest part of king's, there was a lot of wildfire noise, and a large amount of water swished around.
Then we went to the pub. The End.
I feel so strongly about my work, that I felt that even the grave could not prevent me from providing a detailed report of this operation:
OPERATION ENEMY
MISSION REPORT
CONSTABLE THE EMBODIMENT OF SUBTLETY (IN PERSON)
25th November 2005
19:10 - Spot evil inco. policemen Constable The Fun Police and Constable Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry in the market square carrying CPSs (well, one of them was carrying one, and the other had a suspiciously full bag). I felt mildly underarmed, and also realised that they obviously intended to ambush the SWAT team at some point.
19:11 - Decide to return to armoury for more 'subtle' weaponry.
20:00 - Arrive at SWAT assembly point.
20:01 - Inform the SWAT team of the extreme likelihood of an ambush by the aforementioned incos.
20:45 - Leave assembly point. Proceed towards King's College.
20:50 - Spider sense tingles.
20:51 - Turn and see three subtle policemen with CPSs. Say "Erm. Now might be a good time to run...". SWAT team runs away from the enemy, and the two other policemen I had seen earlier. Agent The Short Arm decides not to run, but hides in an attempt to destroy the fiends.
20:52 - Agent The Short Arm receives a CPS to the face. I cannot confirm this, as I was slightly running away at this point. In running away, I take a different route to the rest of the SWAT team, and am not pursued. Hide in archway, and retrieve more 'subtle' weaponry from the mobile armoury on my back.
20:54 - Carefully make my way to the point at which I last saw the SWAT team heading, in an attempt to take the evil police from behind. Lose game. Find SWAT team without any evil (and now rather corrupt) police. Replace subtle weaponry and move with the SWAT team to the King's side of the bridge.
20:58 - Some of the swat team looks around S staircase, whilst I remain behind with the rest to try to spot anyone outside.
21:00 - Spot someone suspicious (who we later decided was Constable The Fun Police) 'hiding' in the arch that I had visited earlier, along with another person.
21:03 - Spot another person carrying a CPS-like package near to the King's bar. This later turned out to be someone carrying a pool cue.
From this point onwards we watched Constable The Fun Police from afar, making sure that no one came out of S staircase either.
21:10 - Wave at Constable The Fun Police.
21:15 - Glance behind me to discover that Constable The Fun Police had been a decoy, and the other evil police had crept up on us and were only about 5 metres away. Run towards S staircase.
21:20 - Find that the evil police had left the area, chasing Agent Giles Caulderwood around the S staircase area. Escape with Agent Giles Caulderwood to the dark side of King's.
21:25 - We find ourselves trapped between Constable The Fun Police on one side, and Constables Hedwig and the Angry Inch and Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry on the other.
21:26 - Remove most 'subtle' weapon from armoury. See that Constables Hedwig and the Angry Inch and Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry are some way behind us cutting off our escape route, and so I go for Constable The Fun Police.
21:27 - Explicitives heard from Constable The Fun Police, who manages to survive. Hold him off with 'subtle' weaponry.
21:30 - Agent Giles Caulderwood takes the cowards way out, and just walks past Constable The Fun Police to safety. Realise that I might have some trouble doing this, due to the extreme subtlety of my weaponry.
21:31 - Constables Hedwig and the Angry Inch and Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry arrive. There is some shooting, which results in my legs being shot off by Constable Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry.
21:32 - Mildly disadvantaged by this, I am shot in the face by Constable The Fun Police. I die.
The following is reported by the ghost of Constable The Embodiment of Subtlety (in person):
22:00 - Finish retrieving ammo with ghostly powers of night vision.
22:10 - Float to the room of Constable Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Eat many party rings. Notice pile of party rings on floor beneath me. Eat them again. Through my ghostly powers I find that Constable The Fun Police has been killed by the valiant Mistress of Police. Feel that my death has almost been avenged.
23:30 - Witness the gruesome death of Constable Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry at the hands of the Master of Police. If it wasn't for the survival of the evil Constable Hedwig and the Angry Inch I would think that I had been avenged. Decide that it is close enough and decide to pass on to the next world as soon as my I have fulfilled my duty, and sent this report.
At least I died due to my extreme subtlety, which is after all what this game is about...
Nick decided to break off his no-kill agreement with me, and on his own terms. I'm rather sorry it was him we had to remove in the end as he had been doing really rather well, had played honourably and has been an all-round decent guy, which is more than can be said for some of his peers. Oh well...
It should probably be noted that there was an examples sheet present on this attempt and that both lurkers managed to survive regardless.
Team Twinity went into action this evening, the Dark Side's numbers displeasing us. Previous attempts had failed, but this time we got lucky (was it luck? was it skill? was it just a hamster cunningly disguised as a watermelon? we may well never know...). The plan was flawless, and, thank god, involved sitting in a pub next to a fire. This yielded a kill, whereas 4 hours outside another Fortress didn't. Funny that...
(on a side note - well played Nick, you didn't deserve to die first out of the six of us, but them's the breaks, it seems)
Dearest Umpire
It is with greatest disappointment that I report I have not seen Christopher Field MA for what seems like ages. I'm as disappointed as you are.
Sincerely yours
Philip Bridge
Dearest and most special Umpire:
I should like to report that, between the hours of 9 and 11 am approximately, I lurked the residences of Sarah Donnelly and Richard Gibson. I also saw someone who might have been Sarah (because they certainly weren't hot enough to be Steve "Boom Boom" McCann), but resisted the urge to run up behind her and shout BANG; this may also have something to do with the fact that it was 9 am and therefore I was still half asleep.
This is what comes of being dead and bored.
Yours,
Ed Heaney, SCIENTIST.
Wandered into town
Brought Sweets
Brought Gloves
Had a swig of Air
Went to target's domain
Waited
Waited
Waited
Finished off my Air
Left
"Rents Bald Rulers" places a bounty on precisely all gamenews readers who do not place bounties on themselves.
Suspected Xanth might lurk for a certain player this morning.
Spent about 3 hours between 6 and 9 devising lurking strategy with some other players and staring out of a window looking for the target (mostly the last part).
It got boring fairly quickly, and I wish I'd checked the name on the room I was next to so I could send the occupant a less annoying alarm clock.
Right, we're getting fed up with this game, it's gone on too long (not really, but to us it feels like ages), we're bored of spending so much time trying to kill people who are never around, and one unspecified individual having gone into hiding for a couple of days to a fairly unspecified location, meant we didn't have much choice this morning.
Needing to be up before 6, I didn't bother going to bed, not much point I thought, when it was 3.45 in the morning...instead I ate sainsbury's basics corn flakes (very, very, strange, and not much improved with cinnamon) and watched various BBC programmes, such as a Panorama about ASBOs, and last night's episode of Newsnight (first time I think I've ever wanted more personal entertainment in Cambridge...). But anyway, between 6 and half 6 my compatriots arrived, and we set to our plan. It was going to be a long morning.
We had reason to believe that our target was going to be attending an event in Trinity this morning, and so suspected, the location of said tournament being so close to my own room, that he would arrive early to get some competence out of me. Alternatively, he could arrive early to counter-lurk for us lurking for him. So we were basically counter-lurking/lurking for a counter-lurking/lurking target. We watched from our various posts until 8.30am, when we decided that he wasn't going to be coming to lurk, or indeed counter-lurk, so re-strategised, and re-grouped.
I was actually really quite surprised to see Xanth running the stairs in Whewell's Court at about 9.25am - at this point I was heading home. Well, another try wouldn't hurt.
I followed him into the building and wasn't entirely sure how to proceed from there, but noticed an engaged bathroom near the entrance. About ten seconds after this, the man himself opened the door; I shot at him; he shut the door very rapidly looking horrified. I can confirm that the shot didn't hit him, due to the large amount of water on the door afterward...
At approximately 9.20am the target is spotted scurrying into the vicinity of the room of the event. We quickly closed in, and had him pinned in a toilet.
The Umpire reminds players that they should not involve college authorities in the game; nor should they cause them to become involved.
Dearest Maz, the yummiest umpire of them all (or so I am told by Richard Manns, having never tasted you myself...),
Today I was most pleased to find on my kitchen table not only some chocolates but this, with the attached note:
As well as being very flattering, it was also very useful when it started raining on my way back from Borders, where I saw Flying_O. Thank you, Stephen McCann MA.
Yours
Nick Plummer (Dec.)
This afternoon I did a little Christmas shopping, my poor ankle rather hurting after twisting it on my retreat from Kings on Thursday.
I saw the handsome Steve "Boom Boom" McCann walking down Queens' Lane on his way back to Kings, fully armed, pointing his hefty weapon in my face...
game...
He takes pity on my poor ankle, I was in too much pain and carrying too may textbooks to run, so offered him an attempt later this week, involving Bungee cord found in the back of a vent duct inside the Fitzpatrick Hall <Fitzpatrick-lecture.html> of Queens' college!
Sunday 27/11/05
6:15 pm I arrived in King's with the intent of killing Steven "Boom Boom" McCann. My RBGs were hidden beneath my coat, my kife in my left glove.
I arrived at Steve's room. I hid in the kitchen, sitting in a chair with my RBGs pointed at the door.
Through the window in the kitchen door I saw Steve's door open. I surmised that he was emerging. He walked past the kitchen door.
He prodded open the kitchen door. I saw the muzzle of a water gun, and prudently dodged behind the part-open door. I was able to see him through the window. I stuck my RBG round the corner and shot him in the head. He was most surprised.
Vivat Arbiter.
16:47 < Boz> steve, are you there?
So it begins, I wait enough time for someone to reasonably move from Downing to King's and then arm up for a firefight somewhere in my college. I look out my spyhole and notice that the kitchen door was shut. Had it been shut 20 minutes ago? I did not notice that it was... so i was suspicious. I watched the door for a minute, and then moved up the stairs quickly pointing my gun back at it. Then i scouted the top of the staircase... there was a noise. It sounded like a door opening but this could be from anywhere in the staircase so i payed it no attention. I wandered around a bit more and then returned to the suspicious kitchen. I poked the kitchen door, and heard MOVEMENT!
"Hello Boz"
"Hello Steve"
...
I fire into the kitchen, Boz dives past me dodging all my fire, as i rush to re-pump my gun he rolls and fires a pair of shots into my face. Ouch!
I fall, wounded, beaten, with a slightly grazed knee... maybe, who could tell? It was all so fast.
And i never got to see the bungee cords. THE BUNGEE CORDS....!!!
17:31 * Steve dies
17:31 < Raccoon> OM-NOM-NOM
17:32 < Steve> Dude!
Once upon a time, in a place, far, far away from the smoke and noise of the city, there lived a boy. He lived in a house with his family, and they loved him dearly. But they lived a long way out in the country, and there were no other children there for him to play with. As he grew older, it was obvious that, even though he had everything else a child could want, he was still lonely, because he had no friends. So they thought long and hard, and decided that the best thing to do would be to get the boy a friend. So they bought a lamb. It was a lovely, fluffy, lamb, the fluffiest that the parents could find, and they brought it home. And the boy was delighted with the lamb, and he used to play with it every day in the fields, and they were both very happy.
The boy grew older, and so did the lamb, until it was on the verge of ram-hood, and the first horns were starting to grow on its head. One day, they were playing hide-and-seek in the woods, and the boy got lost. It got dark, and he couldn't find his way home, and he was getting scared. He cried out for help, but the only response came from a large and vicious wolf, which came out from the trees and, growling, ran at him. The boy was terrified and thought he was about to die, but suddenly the lamb charged out, butting the wolf with its horns. A long and fierce fight followed, and eventually the lamb killed the wolf, even though he was badly hurt. He lived just long enough to show the boy to the edge of the woods, and then he died.
The boy was heartbroken, and after that day he never smiled again. He could find no happiness in the green fields and blue skies of the land of his birth, and he travelled to the city, where he joined the police force. After he had served there for only a few years, his intolerance for breaches of the law, corruption and incompetence became legendary. Eventually, King Martin III, who was a just and fair ruler, saw fit to promote him to the post of Master of Police. The Police improved mightily under his stewardship, and the land entered a new and unprecendented golden age.
One day, the Master of Police was walking into the great hall, intending on getting some dinner. There he saw one of his junior officers, one who had for some time been renowned as incompetent. The Master of Police had little time for incompetence, although he had tolerated this officer for a little while. However his blood was chilled by what the man was eating. How anyone could eat a lamb, the same creature that had befriended him and died saving him all those years before... well, it just sickened him to the core. In fact, he might not have been eating lamb at all- it might have been a lasagne, or even the vegetarian option. But lamb was on the menu, and that was good enough for the Master of Police. So he took his gun and shot Richard Kirkdale dead.
Many sad things have happened:
A good friend resigned.
An enemy got away with incompetance.
There are too many people alive.
My fridge needs restocking.
Things are going mouldy in the sink.
Plus, I am not in Oxford.
Of all of these things, 2 are on my mind. To rectify them I waited for 2 and a half hours for my chosen target to show themselves. Alas they didn't
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