The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 NewsIt was a matter of patience. All of my targets lived at inconvenient places and distances from my lectures and accommodation, making hunting them difficult and unsuccessful. Luck was with me today though: one of my targets had been eliminated the previous day and my replacement target was a person in my own subject, with whom I had a class that very day! So I went to the department four hours before the class in the hope that he might pop in at some point beforehand, allowing me a legal arena for the kill. I brought some work with me to pass the time, and waited. After a couple of hours I decided to have break by checking my hermes for possible new messages. I has just logged on when who should enter the room? My target, Peter. He asked me if he could use the computer quickly. I said yes, and let him sit down at the monitor. Occupied with work, and with his back turned to me, I fished around in my pockets to find the stray pen I carried with me labelled "knife". Not the most imaginative weapon nor the most exciting, but subtle and effective. I held the knife secure in my right hand, and tapped Peter on the shoulder. I wanted to kill him face to face. He turned. I stabbed his heart. "You're dead." Sorry Pete!
Swords: nature's hell sticks. They'll fucking slice a baby in half. And that's what I want to talk to you about today, the dangers of owning swords. This is the ultimate Cautionary Tales of Swords, since it concerns my own near-death. It's called: 'Swords'll Fucking Cut You Wide Open' Imagine the scene: I wake up this morning to the soft sound of birdsong outside my window, all set for great day of attempted killing and slaughtering. I've just finished my morning lectures, but I need to go up to the ASNaC department to print off some stuff. 'Surely,' I think to myself, 'the people who study the fucking Vikings aren't going to be the kind of folks drawn to Assassins.' Incidentally, you know why there aren't any more Vikings? They all cut their fuckin' hands off with God damn swords. Don't fucking touch swords! Anyway readers, I think I'm safe. But I'm wrong. All wrong. No sooner have I sent my work to the printer than I am impaled by a knife-wielding Loremaster. Knives are just tiny swords. Don't let the size fool you, they'll cut you wide open! Learn from my mistake. Be sure to check out my two latest books on the subject: 'Stories That Will Really Fuck You Up', written by me with a forward by Norman Mailer, and: 'Swords Will Fucking Slice a Baby in Half: A Story of Redemption'. Oh, and don't forget: don't fucking touch swords!
This kill was annulled because it took place in a computer room, which are OoB.
I hoped to Kill my target Rachel Purdon while he headed to lunch this afternoon. However, his friends, who had seen me lurking around her building before, recognized me and informed him that danger was near. I made the foolish mistake of not backing out, and paid for it with my life. A quick, pointblank shot from a squirt gun ended my short assassins career.
Oh what a night! Oh what a sight!
This kid didn't know his wrong from right
Thus, for behaving like a tard,
I went to hunt for Matthew Hicks.
A knock upon his wooden door
was met with silence, nothing more
So, though he had committed sin
for now it seemed he wasn't in.
(and here I must stop writing hymns,
for I don't know their pseudonyms...)
I was amused to watch Justin Esau follow TwiceAsNiceAsMiceto [UNSPECIFIED] staircase, and then be gunned down by TwiceAsNiceAsMice once he'd returned from somewhere with a rifle. Someone looking like Brook Roberts turned up briefly at the scene, but after spotting Edmund Croft walking up behind the group, he made a rather cowardly retreat across the college.
As I made my way back to Downing, some cad threw a grenade at me from behind a hedge. This missed, but for causing me the hassle of dodging I shot the villain, who turned out to be Stuart Alexander Burns.
Honoured bicikesiy,
Another long journey, this time to Shelaj, has ended the career of another despicable villain. I was aided by my fellow dzurey and beriessu S.A.L.O, who met me at the dzusnar, and we went together to the building where the feared Bezusu the Nesquik Assassin was known to reside. As we were walking along the first-floor corridor, I observed him walking in the other direction, carrying his laundry. To his great detriment, he had never heard the wise words of Elser, viz: "He who does his laundry unarmed is going to get fucking killed". I, however, was better prepared, and I drew my deadly teyp and stabbed him repeatedly in the chest, arm, back, and head, like so: "STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB!!!" He died quickly, his last expression one of puzzlement and resignation. I thanked my accomplice for her services and set off on the return journey to Chetas.
Another great victory for Revaudo! Death to the Bezusu terrorists!
Oyes endi mu shu,
"Luchas"
Sadly, a bag full of laundry was inadequate defence against Luchas and the Nesquik Assassin's stabby knife of stabbiness. I humbly admit defeat.
So there I was, happily playing Vivaldi, when I hear a knocking on my chamber door. It's a funny looking guy asking me to sign something for Amnesty. Firstly, I don't tend to sign that sort of thing, but that wouldn't make him go away. He denied my accusation of trying to kill me, and after realising I really wasn't going to open the door, promptly left (After asking for directions out of the building). From the fact he didn't ask a single other person on my floor, left immediately after me, and my spidey sense, I conclude he was, infact, trying to to kill me.
Some rather epic fail from me, Toast. After failing to gain access to the target's room with the line "Would you like to sign a petition condemning the killing/execution of students?", I forgot how to get out of the building that the target's room is in. This forced me to go back, knock on the door again, and ask for directions. I can tell I'm going to last a long time on the incompetent list!
I was just sitting innocently at my desk, when the heavily armed Christoph Straeter burst in upon me. He quickly leveled his remarkably banana-like gun at me from the middle of the room, and attempted to fire, but missed, being too far from his target. Finally managing to draw a weapon from the desk in front of me, I shot him in the chest from a few feet away. So he's dead now. Hurrah.
Count Peduran strikes again! Well, pre-emptively strikes...
I recieved another of those electromagnetically transmitted written adendums informing me that a bounder named Alex Rossides was in my staircase, talking a lot of blabber about "getting" me with a banana or some such miscreant nonsense. The Count does not stand for such nuisance behaviour, bothering the Count's fine neighbours with ill-conceived dreams of Count-murder. The Count does, however, occasionally slip into talking in the third person.
At any rate, I headed back to my Death Fortress to find the rude young rapscallion and rip his f***ing ankles off. Sadly, he had gone elsewhere. Then, a lead! I watched someone fitting his description heading towards the college cantine, so I set off around 10 minutes after, entered the eating establishment from the unguarded rear entrance and located him, eating with his slaves or followers or something.
I closed my fingers around my .45 RBG and drew it from its holster, pressed it into his back so as to muffle the sound when I shouted "BANG!", then shouted "BANG! You're dead!". Naturally he didn't take the news well.
I had made a less-than-subtle attempt to find and kill Count Peduran the previous hour. Many on his corridor had seen this and whilst initally seeming to help me, they later informed the target of my intentions. Later in the Clare buttery, Count Peduran sneaked up behind me and shot me several times with a rubber band gun, in plain view of many innocent dinners. The amazing part of this story is that Count Peduran proceeded to get his food and sit down to eat it, just yards from my bullet-ridden corpse. A cold hearted killer indeed.
I was at my study, scheming and plotting his next assassination, and someone knocked on the door again. Being clad in... attire inappropriate for long-drawn chases, let alone battles, I decided to stay inside and test my opponent. "Who are you", I wrote on a piece of paper, and slid it under my door. The assassin, being a craven coward, turned and fled at the sight of my mighty handwriting. I managed to catch a glimpse of his back through the window, rapidly retreating into the distance. Male, of average build, sporting a haircut quite reminiscent of Spock. Whoever this Trekkie is, he'll be a dead Trekkie soon.
I would like to send my congratulations to whoever tried to kill me and failed miserably. The other denizens of my floor would like to note that if he would use the kitchen and cook toast using their bread they would prefer it if the toast was not simply rejected for being burnt. They believe that bad cookery should be an offense. Unfortunately he ran away before he could be presented with a cookbook and other slightly sharper implements.
The Umpire would like players to note that taking things from strangers' staircases is never a good idea. This principle is extended to eating their food.
Today I visited a couple of persons in their abodes in Cambridge. The first (The Ninja Panda) was not in, but I had an engaging conversation with his lovely neighbours and resolved to come back another day. I then proceeded to the room of An Innocent Bystander, in order to see if he was about. His next door neighbour told me he had already left for lectures, so I began to leave. However, just as I was descending the staircase, the character in question appeared from his doorway and began trying to shoot me with a rubber band gun. Shocked at such aggressive behaviour, I responded in kind, but then decided my purposes would be better served by waiting outside.
The Chamber of Judgement was packed fuller than Dr.Talos had ever seen. It seemed that everyone was whispering to his or her neighbour, creating an overwhelming wall of noise. The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Pavlovius Silverstone, cleared his throat, preparing to announce the court's ruling. "Ahem, it is the unanimous decision of this court that detainee number 1812, Hester Thorneycroft, is guilty of theft, aggravated theft, and really very annoying theft, of powerful magical artifacts, that is to say, socks, with the intent of using their power for her or others gain. Further to this, the court rules that ." Silverstone stopped, shocked, as he caught sight of the vampire flying across the courtroom. In a split-second, before either the Chief Warlock or Dr.Talos could draw their wands, the vampire had thrown aside a clerk, smashing him into the wall and had broken the Chief Warlock's neck. Stunned silence filled the courtroom. Dr.Talos watched blankly as the vampire burst through the glass roof and fled into the starry night.
The following hours had been hectic. The vampire had been identified as Shubnit Bhumbra, an underworld assassin. Meanwhile, the Chief Warlock was given immediate treatment. Such were the powers of magic that it now seemed he would recover given enough time. However, the unfortunate and innocent clerk of the court had not been so lucky.
A message left by the thwarted assassin declared that the attack was retaliation for the arrest of Thorneycroft and the ongoing investigation into the case of the socknappers. It threatened further retribution if the case was continued. Needless to say, the media had managed to get wind of the message and The Head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was forced to publicly halt the sock investigation .that didn't mean he couldn't do some investigation in his own time though and if certain citizens who just happened to be aurors had the same idea then so be it .
Dr.Talos had been tracking the vampire for several days now. Each time he apparated to where the vampire had been, he detected the vampire's magical signature slightly stronger. He was catching up. The first location had been a hut in Moldova, then a deserted village by a barren seashore, a sweetshop, an otherworldly forest that emanated a ghostly light, and now here, a crowded room outside a muggle lecture theatre. Bhumbra must have realized by now that he was being tracked and hoped to escape in the noise of the crowd. Dr. Talos knew it was no use trying to identify the vampire amongst the pigeons by sight, he would have morphed himself into another form, another face .
With his wand out in front of him, he crept into the crowded hall. Ruffling through his pockets for something to transfigure he brought forth an empty Jeroboam "Domaine Leflaive - Montrachet good year too. Alas I must do this, but I do this in your memory" he said to the wine bottle as he turned it into a mirror. His only chance of identifying the vampire in such a crowded room was with the mirror. "Silly vampires lacking reflections" he shook his head, smiling. He wandered around the room with his mirror held out in front of him, peering intently into it. The muggles justly gave him a few peculiar looks. Then a FLASH blurred across the mirror. "BEHIND ME!!" Spinning around with his arms outstretched, like an overenthusiastic disco dancer, he cast the Impedimenta jinx just in time - Shubnit Bhumbra was frozen less than a foot away. Apparently he had been trying to sneak up on the Doctor.
After a few drops of veritaserum and a serious compulsion charm, Dr. Talos broke the freezing enchantment and asked a few choice questions:
"Who sent you?"
"I was" the vampire gnashed his teeth "sent by someone you mortals could not comprehend. A man who will soon rule the world."
"Then why the socknapping? He's run out of socks?"
"No. He has plenty of socks. With these socks he can he can " The vampire was clearly fighting the veritaserum. Whatever he did not want to say must be important.
"WHY THE SOCKS!" Dr. Talos shouted, forcing an extra pulse of magic into the compulsion charm.
"Because mankind forms the lesser half of a symbiotic relationship. Socks are the more intelligent partners in this relationship. They are highly intelligent and cunning ..They direct your feet so that they can go about their unknowable sockish business. The socks we have socknapped are the leaders of all sockdom ."
Dr. Talos felt shocked. Suddenly it all made sense. The head of the socknappers was not in fact intending to resurrect the Dark Lord, but was planning on subverting the entire sock-wearing population of the world by exercising control over the head honcho socks!!!!! "Holy cow!!!!"
Suddenly Shubnit Bhumbra broke free of the compulsion charm and grabbed a suicide capsule, forcing in down his throat before Dr.Talos could react. "Dammit Talos." He punched the air in frustration. Glancing up he noticed the muggles all staring wide eyed at him. "Oh yeah. Obliviate".
At 12:05 I stood outside of the lectures of one of my targets. Soon my first target Julian Parmar strolled past me blissfully unaware of my presence for the brief period before a knife stuck him in his back. Turning to return, I spotted my second target Craig Newbold walking towards equally ignorant of my true intentions. He too was soon no more! Having been tipped off by Pink Fluffy Bunny of my final target's location, at 12:55 I followed her out towards her bike, before stabbing her swiftly in the back. Crazed by the bloodshed i'd wrought, I cradling myself in my arms as the cold shower water poured over me, washing away the blood. I wept tears for the poor souls i'd delivered to the other world, before going for a well deserved afternoon nap.
I regret to inform you that I will not be able to make my competence deadline, owing to the fact that I am now dead. On leaving lectures yesterday, I had my train of thought interrupted by a knife in the back, whose owner then confirmed that my dying body was that of his target. Perhaps fearing for his anonymity, he then left the rather public corpse to die in peace.
After scouting out his hovel, and finding it unoccupied, a naive acquaintance of Mr Guttenplan let slip his whereabouts for a certain time and place. Hungry for a kill, I waited nonchalently outside his lecture room. As soon as he stepped in out of the night, I knew I only had a matter of seconds before he reached the hallowed lecture room. He was twitchy, reaching for his weapon as I approached. I called out his name, and fed him a line about wanting to write an article about his exceedingly good performance on University Challenge. An exceedingly good performance on national TV does not a good secret identity make. He lowered his guard. A fatal mistake. As I shook his hand I reached for the penknife concealed in my back pocket, he reached for his RBG. I was the faster, and impaled him through the heart. "I knew that would get me killed," he gurgled with his last breath. I congratulated him for his victory over Christ's, and strolled out into the darkness. Who said you should never bring a knife to a gunfight?
Assassins and University Challenge clearly don't mix. Someone with a notebook accosted me outside a lecture theatre as I was going in and asked if he could talk to me about my recent appearance for Vivid. He took me e-mail address, then stabbed me. I have to admit I was suspicious, but couldn't get my RBG out of my pocket in time...
Shortly before 14:00 today, I stealthily wandered into my target's college - well disguised with a backpack and a bored expression on my face. After searching about for a bit, I located his hall of residence. The front door had been left ajar. After slipping in, I located his dormitory and knocked. He opened the door only to receive a knife to the gut accompanied by sound effects (provided by yours truly).
The Umpire would like to remind players that you should report all events, especially if you kill somebody.
So today I went out in search of my victim. Having located his accomadation at 3:45pm, he then made a fateful error, he exited with his family as I got there. Taking a minute to clarify he was my target I waited, pretended to leave and then a minute later returned as he was unlocking a door. I pounced, the desperate cry of David was to late to alert him of my presence and my Killer Pig squad attacked and David Andrew Clarke was no more. My attack Pigs have the taste of Human blood now and will soon be wanting more.
Warning to all assassins: Don't let your guard down when your parents come to visit! You will be shown no mercy. I was carrying out recycling with my family when a suspicious character appeared near my door. I informed my family of the situation, but the character soon walked off. Feeling a little more safe and not wanting to alarm my family I let it go. Before I knew a rabid killer pig was devouring my cerbellum (It was a fine throw by Carlsberg don't do Assassins, but if they did, they probably would have already been killed by me). The whole proceeding was much to the amusement of my younger brother and sister - I wished he had hit one of them.
I was busy coding in my room when I heard a knock on the door and knife in hand I went to answer it well aware of impending deadlines. Unfortunately it turns out that in this world spiders kick knife's ass and can travel faster than a fresher can fling himself across a room :-(.
This is to report that between 3 and 4 pm I, Jack the Ripper Jr murdered the assassin known as William Morland in his room at [UNSPECIFIED_COLLEGE] with the aid of my extremely venomous killer attack spiders. He succumbed to the venom quickly and painlessly, for luckily I am a merciful killer...
At approximately 3:50 today, I limped to the Lecture Block on the Sidgwick Site, hungry for vengeance. My side was still smarting from where Robin McConnell had stabbed me earlier. He thought I was dead, but by some beautiful accident of fate I had survived. I cared not for pain; the only thing on my mind was glorious retribution. Sure enough, I saw Robin approaching. I stepped forward to meet him, the blood pounding in my ears. I saw the look on his face change from surprise to bemusement when I readied my rifle and delivered a Nerf beta-blocker to his heart. Like a phoenix from the ashes, I am risen. A fucking phoenix, who will fucking destroy all swords.
Cautionary Tales of Swords got me at about 5pm. He strode up in confidence, and withdrew a tommy gun from underneath his long black cloak. I was walking between two innocents, and didn't have much room to manoeuvre - nevertheless, my feeble attempt at dodging the bullet failed. BANG! He shot me in the chest. All credit to Cautionary Tales of Swords, who deserved to kill me after my foul yesterday. The moral is, never trust anyone in Assassins, even if you think you've killed them!
This the time to sing of Ahti,
Son of Lempo, Lemminkainen.
Ahti, playing at assassins,
Knew the incobash was nearing,
Long reflected, well considered
How he could escape that sentence.
First he mounted on his cycle,
Rode to find his chosen victim,
Feared assassin Galois,
Came upon the victim's building,
But the doorway would not open.
Thence he rode to Saint John's college,
Blessed with mickle land and money,
But alas! the place is evil;
I would rather be at Oxford.
There he searched for Shubnit Bhumbra,
Criminal and rogue assassin,
Waited maybe twenty minutes,
In the end ran out of patience.
As he strode along the pathway
Saw a figure tall and shady,
Asked him where he could find Bhumbra.
"Why the question?" asked the figure.
Ahti's answer unconvincing,
"He is dead," confirmed the stranger,
Probably the ghost of Bhumbra.
Ahti left on one more journey
To the lodging of MENSA,
Knocked upon the wooden doorway,
Knocked again and waited briefly,
Found no sign of the assassin,
Left a note upon the doorway.
Thus the hero Lemminkainen
Came home all but unsuccessful,
Knew the dwellings of his targets
But could not get in and slay them.
At approximately 18:15, I heard a knock on my neighbour's door. This being suspicious, I observed through my hole of the spy variant, only to see an assassin (Emma Garnett) hiding among the shadows. Worried that my neighbour would open his door and thus subject himself to potential death, I waited for her to draw her weapon, before bursting into the corridor with a rubber band gun and shooting her squarely in the chest. Unfortunately, she had lightning-quick reflexes and simultaneously hit me in the face with a killer attack dog. Thus, we are now both on the dead side of things.
At 7:10pm on Friday Amanda Hadkiss was slain by Irene Adler while chatting on the phone in her room in [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE]. The door swung open and a single shot was fired.
I have spent an hour looking for X^Y's room- luckily [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE]'s JP was holding some kind of talk and this allowed me to lurk around but yet I have failed to find that room among the labyrinth of the [UNSPECIFIED]'s staircase. Earlier today, I lurked in Scubbo' toilet for about 5 minutes- believing him to in but knowning a direct confrontation would be foolish. Although admiring the handiwork of the shotgun pointing towards his door.
Preparing for my nightly repose, I heard a knocking without. Exhaustion addled my mind, as I neglected my one-time precautions and opened the portal to send my visitor away. Alas! it was Galois , who shot me thrice with a water pistol. I slammed the door on him, but too late, too late. As I returned to my bed and to blissful unconciousness, I rued the day when I had set my room's water status to Water With Care.
After an evening's merriment in the college bar, I decided I had a few hours to save myself the shame of being incompetent. So after unsuccessfully staking out a different college, I settled upon that of Mr Christopher Wells. Having navigated my way to the staircase and dodged a few rather inebriated innocents, I found the specified room and knocked, catching the above unaware. Before he had time to respond, he got a face full from my "not-so-super-might-get-you-a-little-bit-wet"-er, and he was no more. I then apologised and let him get back to bed.
I'd earlier received intelligence indicating that my target James Latter would be attending a film night within striking distance of my lair, and so I hatched a plot to lay in wait. After enduring approximately twenty minutes of what is undoubtedly the worst film EVER committed, my target lost interest and left. Thereupon I followed him outside and shneakily introduced a knife to his back, just a shade before midnight, therefore escaping incompetence by a breath of a whisker - oh joy!
Five minutes to midnight. The rain was omnipresent, and had a certain gloomy aura about it - not quite evil, but emanating a low-grade malice that slowly wore away at one's soul. What better conditions to spend a Friday evening with murder in my heart? [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] was not territory I'd staked out before, but I was desperate. I knew my enemies were closing in - best that I made the first move. The court, though dark, was noisy - for a sociable student, midnight was quite early. I moved quickly through the shadows, avoiding as many people as possible. Where was the stairwell? I scanned the doorways until I spotted a name I recognised. Slowly through the door, tiptoeing up the stairs and there I was, with only a few inches of wood seperating me from the target's room. In the end, some of us feel compassion - I knew only professional indifference as I knocked - noticing the spyhole, I sidestepped quickly out of its line of sight. As I heard movement from within, I slipped my hand into my pocket and grasped the cool handle of my knife. It was over within seconds. The lock clunked and the door swung open, and within the initial instant of confusion I had stabbed her - pausing only briefly to check my handiwork, I swept back down the stairs and dissolved into the night, leaving my target to die on her own threshold. The Carpenter had claimed another victim.
Although cunningly disguised as a toilet paper mummy, an extremely clever Jay managed to find out who I was, and blew out the brains of the recently undeaded mummy. He cut a dashing figure, not unlike Brendan Fraser.
Good morning! At the Homerton Halloween Bop, Jay, dressed as an oompa loompa jumped out at Jatinda, dressed as a mummy, and took him out with single clean shot to the head using a toy dart gun. The party gradually wound to a close as medical staff arrived, but nothing could be done to save him
First thing after lectures this morning I went to [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE], found [UNSPECIFIED ROOM] that belongs to Nick Fitzpatrick and bang-shot him with my banana-gun... ... only to discover that he was nothing but a corpse that had already been rotting for 2 days (I should read my emails... Disappointed I went back to my room and got the email with my new target (who luckily doesnt live miles away like the other two). Having reloaded by banana-gun and with fresh spirits I went to [DIFFERENT UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE], found Jack Jackson'S Room. He openend his door carelessly after I knocked, allowing me a nice point-blank range shot. He tried to duck away, but in less than 0.5m distance, this attempt was futile....
So we had a lot of people turn up for the incobash: Copper Pipe of Death, Severus Snipe, The hero formerly known as Kaukomieli, Brutus, Captain "Fabulous" Falcon, Cassius, Oh, look! An inco!, An Innocent Bystander, Franz Ferdinand, Unknown, Nothing Up My Sleeve, bah, I don't understand what a 'pseudonym' is, The Chief Rabbi of Poland, Call me what you will, Robert Cecil, Raccoon, The Justice Leg and of course myself and the Chief of Police, Dr. Talos Jabbersocky, A Mesa Trudger.
A very rough outline of what happened not really in order:
I, the humble and as of this morning incompetent Horatio T Loins, was visited just now by two gentlemen, The cunning ruse of knocking on my door and attempting to hide so I would innocently wander out and be shot having failed they decided to leave me in peace. However, as they departed onto the staricase I then gave chase! Sadly the mark II RBG Volley gun is not a weapon of particular accuracy nor ease of function, I fired three times, and failed miserably with the first two shots to hit either of them. I can however claim a definite kill with the third shot as it hit the gentleman who was behind the first square in the back. He is definetly, utterly and totally dead. Sadly both seemed rather annoyed at this and stropped off without leaving their particulars. May I offer my humblest apologies for fighting back
About a dozen unsubtle assassins noisily climbed the stairs, tried to open my locked door, and, seeing that this was rather futile, then knocked. Unsurprisingly, I decided that leaving the door locked might be a good idea.
It was a successful incobashing, including a minor siege in [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] against Twillo and Legrange does it with the least action, in which nothing more serious than a severed arm for a companion occurred. Later on I attempted to enter the locked room of Dominic Matthew Rose to no avail, but a later knocking on the door resulted in him opening his door to a small volley of RBG shots while simultaneously being sliced by my accomplice's lightsaber. It was at least a swift death.
A young lady just tried to assassinate me with a RBG through my door, fortunately I suspected foul play.
So the hero of the islands,
Mighty hunter Lemminkainen,
Lest his competence be taken,
Chose to go out incobashing.
Ahti met the gang at Magdalene,
Armed with sword and knife and dagger,
Helped them in their daring exploits
Through the halls of Jesus College.
On to Jesus Lane they travelled,
Came upon the house of Betser,
Found her standing at the doorway;
A banana-gun she wielded.
The assassins drew their weapons,
RBGs and tinfoil daggers,
Labelled rulers and a Nerf gun,
Ahti drew a sword of plastic,
Steadied for a mighty onslaught.
Rushed they all towards the doorway
Where for keys the target fumbled,
Many rubber bands were flying,
Many knives and daggers slashing,
But the blade of Lemminkainen
Found its mark before the others,
Pierced the breast of Dina Betser,
Struck her down as she was firing
For bananas cannot shoot far.
Then the gang moved on to Sidney,
Seeking yet another inco,
Neither there or in a hostel
Could they find a legal target.
Thence they chose to travel onwards,
But the weary hunter Ahti
Chose to go home to his college
Ere the dark of night had fallen.
This evening, some children knocked on my door and said "Trick or Treat". As any right-thinking person would, I took this as an invitation to unload my rubber band gun into them. This caused a little girl to scream, and was possibly quite naughty, on reflection.
I joined the incobash at approximately midday, and then headed out with the group that went across the river.
We visited Queens, where they were out.
We then visited Newnham, where they were out (and we looked rather suspicious).
We continued to Selwyn, where they were out.
We headed to St Chads, where Arun Jayapaul was in. I proceeded through two unlocked doors, and shot him in the head while he was at his computer.
Next we went to [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE], and engaged Legrange does it with the least actionand Twillo in an extended firefight through his second floor window. No deaths were caused, a discussion phase was called to retrieve Nerf darts, and we departed.
We then went to Churchill, by way of Wolfson Court. Two more incos died here, but neither at my hands.
After this we went to Fitz, and Revalation (pseudonym, as far as I know) and I both killed the gentleman in A16 at the same time. He shot him with an RBG, while I threw a knife. His family were most amused by this.
Next we went to New Hall. Here (at the instigation of Revelation*) myself and an officer of the police both killed the same innocent at the same time. The cause of death was the same as well -- RBG and thrown knife.
Then to Magdalene, where we failed to find any entrance to our target's staircase. For now...
Nipped next door to St Johns Cripps Court, where one inco was out, but the other was in. Entering his room, I saw a gentleman lying in bed, one standing up, and and older guy hunched over a computer. Fortunately, the one in bed pointed me at the correct target, and I then shot Peter Atkinson.
At this point we encountered the other incobash team, and about half of us headed to our respective homes. The remainder returned to Magdalene, and still couldn't gain entrance to M staircase.
However, we did find some lovely person to let us into 29 Thompson's Lane, where we found Lauren *still in bed*. She didn't quite work out what was happening until too late, so I offered her the choice of being stabbed or shot. She elected to be stabbed. After a pleasant chat with her, the incobash, and the friend who betrayed her, we continued.
We then went to Jesus college. Two gentlemen were out. The one in V room 4, however, was in, and was promptly killed by another of our incobashers.
At this point, it was approximately 4:30pm, and I departed from the incobash as it walked back towards Sainsbury's.
*That is, Revalation pointed at a person who had come out of a plausible door, and said "hey, isn't that her". A slightly low move, but legal.
As we enter [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE], what do we spy but an incompetent? I decide to let my highly skilled attacking partner deal with him. Unfortunately he is allergic to human eyes and flees as soon as An Inconvenient Lie turns around. Undeterred, we battle up his staircase and boldly knock on his door, ask him to sign a birthday card. The door opens. I don't understand what a 'pseudonym' is shoots. The door closes. We go home.
I and several other nefarious assassins went out to hunt down some
incompetents this afternoon. After an unsuccessful trip to Queens,
where a locked door defeated us, we headed on to Newnham. After our
all-male group inconspicuously gaining entrance to this rather
gender-selective college we unfortunately came upon two more locked
doors, but still in high spirits headed to our next college, Selwyn.
There were three incompetents here but unfortunately it seems all
three were having lunch at the time, so still no kills were made.
We headed on to St. Chad's where one inco had rather uncaringly left
his door unlocked and dispatched him in short order. Sadly he didn't
really seem to care about his recent demise, and we headed off to
Trinity. After some ringing of the doorbell, a head poked its way out
of a window, quickly withdrew and was replaced with a rubber band gun.
We were under siege! A somewhat drawn-out affair that soon escalated
to water guns pinning us behind some columns led us to calling it a
day and heading on.
Next up was Wolfson but unfortunately it turned out none of the incos
actually lived there, so we headed on to Churchill.
Here we met with rather more success, as before we had even reached
the first staircase we identified an inco tying his shoelaces just
outside, and he was soon dealt with. That accomplished, we headed
inside and were unfortunately met with a locked door. No one seemed to
be in, so we headed on to the next target, and found his door unlocked
but without an occupant. Moments later, however, someone came running
up the stairs, opened the staircase door and, taking one look at the
lot of us, swore and turned tail. Fortunately I was able to shoot him
before he could flee very far, and he admitted defeat.
We moved on to the next inco and while his door was looked, a quick
check through his window revealed him to be on the premises. A
stand-off ensured and in the meantime I decided to pay a quick visit
to a personal target in an adjacent staircase.
Matvey is dead. I needed to earn back my honour (competence), so I was given a list of names of other incompetent people here at my college, that I could kill and thus redeem myself. The first on the list was my neighbour; we've been through alot - too much for me to just turn on him. The next was myself. Couldn't do that either. Matvey was the obvious choice. Crept to his room (same floor as mine), knocked on his door. He knew me, and so foolishly got out of bed and unlocked the door. He opened it furtively, but it was already too late; I shot him with my foam gun- two shots to the chest. Felt good too.
A key left in the door. A mediaeval exchange of challenges. A brief and painful duel (for him). I then admired the size of his bust, while he marvelled at the prowess of my weapon.
Not on my turf, sonny Jim. Hope the pancake party went well, sorry I couldn't be there!
In the meantime I decided to pay a quick visit
to a personal target in a nearby staircase. Finding his room
unlocked, I entered with caution, but it turned out my target had in
fact carelessly left his door unlocked on heading out.
Locking his door behind me, I shouted through his window to the
remaining assassins on the ground, and decided to wait for my target's
return. Settling down into his chair and bracing myself for a long
haul, I downloaded a new book to my phone and sat reading it, gun in
hand.
As time went on, the sky grew darker and the room colder, dinner time
came and went, and my phone's battery slowly depleted. I pulled my
coat closer about me and kept on reading, listening out for my
target's return.
Five and a half hours after I entered his room, I finally hear noise
just outside - he has returned at last, and has company! As he
introduces his room to his guest and swings open the door, I turn to
face him. A short scream and several rubber bands later my target is
eliminated, much to the amusement of his visitor and corridor-mates.
One later described it as "a beautiful noise, like pushing a fridge
out a window, followed by a girly scream". I made good my escape and
after finally navigating my way through the Churchill labyrinth,
returned to my own college some nine hours after I'd set off that
morning.
After a good round of incobashing, I retired to my college, and set about eliminating incompetants that tarnish our good name. He opened his door to me, and I stabbed him in the chest.
There i was twiddling my thumbs thinking how i may just have survived the incobash... knock at the door, there stands Oh, look! An inco!, my college dad: 'hello, come in' says me, 'killed for being incompetent' says he, stabbing me mortally with a pen!
A nasty chill is in the air. The sky is dark. It is Halloween and many evil creatures have come out to play. Death comes to pay me a visit. Death asks a fellow student nicely if he could be let in so he could assassinate the person in room [xx]. I go out and shoot him with a gun as he cycles away. Things never seem so scary when you have a water gun...
Detention, boys, three hours of cauldron scrubbing.
Sidney Sussex, the last undergraduate college I had not claimed a kill at. How excellent.
I, The Shadow, was waiting to get into hall at around 6:15 on 1st November when The Duke ambushed me brandishing his gun; one shot to the chest was all that it took - The Shadow was no more! I must commend The Duke's persistence as the day before he was on the prowl for me but I thwarted his plans - he had learnt from his previous experiences.
Right after waking up this morning, I felt this blood thirst that only a nice kill could satisfy... Having all my targets too far away for me to kill them before brunch, I had a look at the inco list and found out that a friend of mine, Max 'Murdered', actually was an incompetent assassin. Friendship aside, this opportunity was just too tempting to miss.. Having marched to his accomodation, I was let in by a local who wasnt aware what doom she brought over her friend. Entered the building, found his room and knocked. I heard some noise behind the door, but he seemed reluctant to open, so I thought a familiar voice would him make let down his guard. "Max, it's me, Rayman!" I said and three seconds later he opened the door wide enough to make his head visible. In a split-second I drew my banana gun and he was done for.. In his dying breath he told me that we had been thinking of getting his knife ready, but then after hearing my voice, he he had trusted me just opened the door. Maybe in his next life he will have learned that trust is something that no true assassin can afford to have...
Just got killed by one Roman Sztyler (don't know his pseudonym). He knocked, I checked peep hole, recognised him, thought he ain't no assassin, opened door, was shot, end of.
Having eaten brunch with Paval Kantchev, i went to my room to retrieve my knife (or more precisely bike pump with knife written on it), returned to the dining room and stabbed him in the back. Leaping on the opportunity, i then stabbed Tom O'Pray, Cameron Stocks, Eleanor Richards, and Sophie Norman within about 20 seconds of each other in the queue for food. I then went hunting for Ben Webb, but couldn't find him. I'm sure i'll be killing him soon. All the above were incompetent.
I undertook a quest To kill some lazy fools
Who had not killed folk in time
As laid out in the rules
Glancing down the list I hatched a cunning plan
There were many folk at girton
My questing had began
The route to girton is quite hard
For it is so far away
I overcame the challenges
And made it in a day
Sneaking through the college wood
I spied as is my habbit
The creature of my namesake
The noble beast of rabbit
Hopefully all were unaware
As it was nearing night
I met with an accomplice To help me in my fight
I tried to gain an entry
But alas the door was barred
My friend reached into her purse
And removed a magic card!
A simple wave across a box
Light turned from red to green
We crept in through the entrance way
Trying hard to not be seen
Slowly we moved inwards
Traversing the hard stairwell
Moving on to a corridor
Where many inco's dwell
I had a dart gun in one hand
a pen knife in the other
I had a good excuse to hand
I was a visiting brother
I knocked on one door and then the next
But none within would stir
I tried a 3rd and 4th doorway
Yet none saw my rabbits fur
A potential victim did then appear
I moved towards him creeping
Was he approaching the right door?
Or some guy considering sleeping?
A rest with my most helpful guide
She confirmed my suspicion
He was the individual I sought
My trek brought to fruition.
I knocked one more upon a door
It slowly open wide
I raised my pistol quickly up And shot him in the side.
I retrieved my darts from his room
As then his face turned red
He sheppishly admitted to me
He was the living dead!
I was shocked to my very core
Almost couldn't take the strain
We was no longer an errant foe
But a zombie after brain!
I hastily returned home
I could not go much faster
My attempts had been in vain
Failure for rabbit master.
While having brunch i spotted another assassin who is on the incompetence list. I knew that this was a great chance but unluckily, I didn't have any weapon at the time. But then again, I was in the dining hall, so i just bought a banana, borrowed a pen and created a shiny new banana gun (the old one was already getting black). Thus armed, I approached the inco (Clare Bernstein) apologized, as she was in company of her family, and shot her. Her sister moaned over her death, asking whether it was right to kill someone in front of their family, but Clare told her not to moan anymore and let her rest in peace...
Looking at my competency draining away, I became desperate. I had to get a kill soon, by any means. I would betray a friend. Clare hadn't told me she was an assassin, nor established a no kill agreement, so I figured this dishonesty justified her death. I loaded up my armory and went on the long, hard walk to her room. I found her just returning with some friends, and called her out with the excuse of wanting help with some music. She came out, helpful as ever, and I quickly slid my knife into her heart. She then told me that she was, infact, already dead. I guess I have to go betray some more friends, then.
Realising that my college still had quite a few incos left, I went to brunch with the intention of eating some greasy food, reading the papers, and killing some of them. None appeared for most of brunch, but just as I finished the paper and decided to give up and leave, I noticed James Kellett at the table behind me. I stabbed him on the way out.
With my glaring incompetence staring me in the face all day I pulled my socks up dressed to kill and, with my visually impaired accomplice, stalked to the abode of my fellow incomtee. Knocking on her door I awaited for her to open it unto her doom. Spotting my embarresed smile and gleaming knife she screamed "No, please No." apologising profusely and ingoring her pleas I mercilessly plunged my weapon into her quivering chest. After letting out a brief whimper she accepted her fate and I returned to my basecamp a man.
The Umpire would like to remind players that people are incompetent (or wanted) while their name is on the website. Therefore, even if you redeem, you will still be a licit target until the next update.
I has shivved Foysol Miah. This is unfortunate for him.
Today, Murdoc shot the dastardly incompetent assassin Harry Robinson as he walked home.
At 10.30am this morning I went to [UNSPECIFIED] college to try to assassinate The Blonde Peril. A kind person allowed me through a locked door, straight to outside my target's door. Unfortunately my target failed to open his door when I knocked. At 11am I went to [UNSPECIFIED] college to try to assassinate An Innocent Bystander. However I had to be buzzed in to be allowed to go through the front door, and my target failed to respond when I tried to request entry. With no alternate methods of entry available, I gave up and headed off to my third target. At 11.30am I arrived at the last target The Jazz Monkey's flat where yet again excessive doorbell ringing, including to the other persons where my target lived, failed to stimulate any response. With my morale in pieces I returned to HQ.
I spied an inco heading in to his college's hall for lunch, and crept up behind him unnoticed. A short stab to the chest later and he was no more. Sadly no other inco friends were around at the time.
Today at around 5, I went for a stroll around [UNSPECIFIED] college. I knocked for two of my targets: The Flump refused to open his door, however Miharu Obata was much more compliant. As the door was opened I quickly fired through the gap with my band gun, only to realise she was already dead! Killed earlier this very day!
Police strike team:
Dr. Talos Jabbersocky, A Mesa Trudger, Poison For Legs, Unspfxable, Paracetamoxyfrusebendroneomycin
Incos visited:
The Ninja Panda, Jan Felix Senge (Tanatos), Toast, Mango, Rosalyn Buckland (Boris Johnson, Mayor of Death), Elton John, The Naughty Bea, Alberto Balsam
Notable events:
Earlier today, as I was leaving for food at my local eating establishment (at approximately 6 hours, 2 minutes and 17.3 seconds after midday) I was ambushed by a group of police officers, including the chief of police himself (who, incidentaly, shot an innocent civilian in the head, according to half a dozen people on the staircase, and by his own admission). I escaped, to hide in my room, until they left. After a reasonable amount of time, I left my room in the hope of finally being able to eat, only to find that one police officer had remained on the staircase. Said police officer opened fire with a (rather pathetic) water gun, and although he hit me, the affected area was too small to count as a kill.
I joined the raid just after they left Downing, and we made a second trip to Emmanuel and Pembroke- no new targets were in. We then went to Unspecified Street to try and kill The Naughty Bea- though a light seemed to be on, he didn't answer his door. A trip to John's was more successful- Rosalyn Buckland opened her door when we knocked, and was shot repeatedly. After a trip to kill Alberto Balsam, who appeared to be in the bath and thus escaped, I split off again.
After meeting down in the police station we made haste to our first target (Jan Felix Senge). Success! We had an eager audience in the staircase willing us on (this Jan fellow was clearly unpopular). Now just to do the killing... After opening his door at the sound of our knocking, he was met by the full force of water straight from the top as the Chief of Police shot him dead. Our next attempt was foiled by a cunning plan by the otherwise incompetent The Ninja Panda involving him not being there. Next on the list was Elton John but to no avail! She too was nowhere to be killed. On to [UNSPECIFIED COLEGE] we went for some action. We spied Mango returning to his room but were too slow to seize our chance (due to slippery hands) and he was alerted to our presence by the uproar created when the Chief of Police got a longrange headshot on an innocent. This revealed our true colours (red and black) to our target who safely hid in his impenetrable room as advised by his loyal companions. After the rest of the police left, I hid to do my bidding and was rewarded shortly afterwards. But alas! I was too slow in my attack and my feeble pistol too feeble (strangely) when I sprung my trap; I drew blood but no cigars featured anywhere. The wound inflicted was below the critical diameter needed to kill such a man and he shrugged it off, leaving me fruitless (and without a kill). Another absence on The Ninja Panda's part meant justice had only been dispensed once that evening before I called it a night. After the tasting the tasty taste of blood I had not tasted enough; I will be bashing more incompetents soon, and in a more competent manner for sure.
Dr. Talos Jabbersocky shook his head sadly as he read the memorandum: "12:30 - Citizen bah files a complaint against the department of magical law enforcement, citing the disappearance of a sock from his laundry on two separate occasions this week". It seemed that despite his greatest efforts, socks continued to disappear at a worrying rate. Dr. Talos vowed he would crack the sock problem and assembled an elite team of aurors to disrupt the socknappers' supply network of socks of lesser power. The team of Poison For Legs, Unspfxable and Paracetamoxyfrusebendroneomycin were authorized to use deadly force and swiftly took down the known sock cultists - Jan Felix Senge, Rosalyn Buckland and Christopher O'Donnell. Dr. Talos' attempts to work his way undercover into the socknapper network as a crooked laundry wizard, prepared to supply minor socks to Tom Partington, were almost undone when Dr. Talos was asked to shoot an innocent to prove his innate wickedness and faithfulness to the socknappers' cause. This he did.......for the GREATER GOOD.
I gave my Killer Pigs another treat today at 7:30pm, however, at the time I was not aware that the flesh of Harry Robinson was already deceased. It seems they do not mind if their meat is not fresh.
What is this muggle nonsense you're scribbling down, boy? Get to work on proper studies!
I waited for my target, Ashley Chadwick outside lecture this morning before striking up conversation and quickly dispatching him with a bang kill. Apparently the Mafia will get me tomorrow, so I am off to enjoy my last night of livingness,
Umpirical note: There are no mafias in cambridge...
Another day, another inco. Merlin Evans leaves his accommodation and walks into me, gun at the ready. A shot to the chest soon finished him off.
Seeing Rosalyn Buckland on the inco list I decided to make an attempt. Seeing her I approached and deceitfully stroke up conversation. Only after stabbing her in the heart I realized it had already stopped beating.
Umpirical note 1: Attacking people who's deaths have been reported will not gain you competence Umpirical note 2: You should check the website before making attempts as it gets updated every day. (Theoretically... I've managed so far)
Alas, Jennifer's Body has become Jennifer's Corpse. I was assassinated Nov 3rd at approximately 9pm in the back of the head with a water pistol. The knives I was clutching in my pocket were of no use in my defense. My assassin also had a keen hiding spot - props to you.
Friends who hint that they are in supervisions with targets are useful. Friends who let targets know they are being hunted by Otters are not. So I followed this 'ally' to his supervision, claiming I was 'meet my friend for dinner'. I waited around for a few minutes and watched as my target wandered past me, unaware. I returned home, had a nap, had some coffee, found a big water gun and returned to Christ's to actually 'meet my friend for dinner'. I waited for 5 minutes in my lookout post, getting steadily more uncomfortable as the supervision over ran... At 9.10 I saw the door open and prepared my weapon. Jenni wander into the corridor I was overlooking and straight into my ambush with a loud scream and a wet neck. I then went off to 'meet my friend for dinner'.
While taking a break from lectures to read a pleasant book I espied an incompetent wandering in search of a copy. While he was engaged in conversation I walked up and opened fire. After a brief discussion on whether he had been hit on the arm or neck, answer both, I returned to my studies.
At around 12 to-day, whilst I searched in [unspecified location] for the cup of tea that would sustain me until lunch, I was approached by a certain golden-mopped individual of note; it transpired that he was merely a distraction from Septimus Hodge, who appeared from behind him, already reaching for a gun. With one hand full, out-gunned and frankly half-asleep, I had little chance to defend myself and was felled by a high-velocity rubber band to the chest.
Oimoi, alas and eheu, for I am dead. This morning, at a little before midday, I espied Severus Snipe while waiting to go into my lecture. I knew him to be dead, so did not consider him any sort of threat. This was foolish of me, since he was police, and so killed me dead. I didn't even get any chocolate.
Honoured bicikesiy,
Last nedim, news reached me that Malithi Hennayake, a Tellinorese spy working for the Gurdagor, was at large in Chetas. As far as could be ascertained, she had been inactive for an extended period and would be an easy target.
I determined what her subject was and when her morning lectures finished, entered the xamunar, and waited outside the lecture theatre. At half past taucino, she left the theatre along with a Cheiyu companion, and I asked her "Is it Hennayake?" "Yes," she replied. "STAB!!!!" Reu ze, geyma o jutri meli...
Another great victory for Revaudo! Death to the Gurdagor imperialists!
Oyes endi mu shu,
"Luchas"
A successful hunting trip for the Count and the Amazing Choocolate Orange. A trip to our favourite [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] yielded a kill each.
Firstly, we turned up at the room of a Mr David Cox, and after a swift knock, he called "Pete"? Now, I may or may not actually be called Pete, but I answered "Yes!" anyway, at which point he opened the door a bit, enough for the Orange to do the dirty work and dispatch him with a well-placed rubber band. Or ten.
The second murder was of Miharu Obata, who quite cheerfully opened her room door to me, took two of my rubber bands to the torso, then smiled and invited us in for tea. By far the most pleasant assassination I've performed thus far. Those people at that very UNSPECIFIED college sure are lovely. Miharu made a fantastic cuppa at any rate. Thanks again for that!
A fine day's hunting I must say. Good old Count Peduran and I made a trip to Pembroke, the home of many of our victims already. But, you see, we have a cunning plan. Pembroke shall be crushed under our iron slippers! Merrily we trotted along, visions of glory filling our minds... when suddenly - we saw something! Cake! We were outside Fitzbillies. We decided to make a return to hunt cakes later. Onwards we trekked, until, after many hard months of travel, we reached the room of one David Cox. Filled with either courage or eagerness to return to cakes (probably the latter) the Count knocked on the door and stormed inside. How rude, I thought. This was my target. However, after a brief scuffle I reached my gun around the door and riddled our quarry with shots. I couldn't see, but the Count assures me he dodged them like some sort of Keanu Reeves, except one which put an end to this silliness. Afterwards he seemed very nice, and I felt somewhat guilty for invading his inner sanctum. Moving on, we ventured to the lair of Miharu Obata. A quick knock on the door and an elastic band in the chest from Count Peduran saw that feral beast off. The Count is having a good day today. I have more kills though. Ha ha ha. However, the feral beast then invited us in for tea and, being a Mathmo, it turns out she wasn't very feral at all. These Pembroke people are very nice. It almost makes me feel guilty for trying to annihilate them. Not quite though. After two successful battles, the males claimed nutritious cake to bring back to the waiting pride back at the staircase. Pembroke shall feel the wrath of The Orange!
At approximately 1720 this evening, I, JACK THE RIPPER JR, infiltrated the spacious grounds of my target's college and, using cunning and deceit, gained entry to the chambers of my victim. On opening the door to what he assumed were CUSU reps carrying out a survey, I quickly stabbed him to death with my trusty knife. MANGO, for this was the name of the unfortunate incompetent, had been skewered on my steely shaft and is no longer a blemish on the name of the Assassin's Guild.
At 17:25, Jack the Ripper Junior knocked on my door claiming to be a CUSU official. I foolishly answered, having not read the rules fully and believing it against said rules to impersonate an official such as them. I was, unfortunately, wrong. So am now dead. After being stabbed with a plastic spring knife thing.
The rules do state that impersonation of student reps is perfectly legal.
At 5:15pm today I went on a police raid with two other members of the police force; Severus Snipe and Warsaw or the First Breath You Take After You Give Up. We paid a visit to Chris Hutchinson of [UNSPECIFIED ROOM]. On our arrival the door was unlocked, so I walked in, Super Soaker Max-D 2000 at the ready - Severus Snipe and Warsaw or the First Breath You Take After You Give Up waited outside. The room was empty, so I waited in a corner and a few moments later in walked the target, who I terminated immediately with a shot to the chest. Estimated time of death: 5:25pm. After this we went on to [USPECIFIED COLLEGE] in search of Nikolay and The Naughty Bea but had no luck, so moved onto the [UNSPECIFIED] Site in search of Albino but again had no luck. Finally we paid a visit to [UNSPECIFIED ] room of [UNSPECIFIED] College in an attempt to bring Mango to justice but the room was locked and there was no light on, so at this point we decided to call it a day.
After witnessing the death of Orlando Boom and Awkward Palmtree I had to force my hand to stay at my side whenever I saw their murderer, Bah. Today when in the presence of the said corpses I noticed Bah was standing behind me. My grief and and anger overtoke me and when I came to my sences the bloody corpse of Bah was lying on the ground with my knife sticking out of it. After washing of the blood I enjoyed a peaceful meal.
The deaths of Orlando Boom and Awkward Palmtree were over and done with long ago, but apparently their friend Xezbeth believed that revenge was a dish best served cold, or failing that, served while I was queueing up for dinner. It was a pointy knife-like dish, delivered to the chest, which I neither expected nor deserved. I trust that Xezbeth will be brought to justice (ideally, of the bloody, messy and cruel variety).
Following the assassination of earlier this evening, I departed my lair once again to hunt down yet another target on the incompetent list, this time the engineer Krishan Changela. Aided by an accomplice, we skilfully feigned our way onto the site and tracked down the victim's living quarters. Given further assistance by an unwitting third party, I swiftly dispatched my target with a surgical stab from my blood-hungry dagger as he stood, bewildered at his sudden demise, in the doorway leading through to his chambers.
| Home || Email |
| News 01 || News 03 || News 04 || News 05 || News 06 || Updates || Headlines || police || wanted || inco || stats |