The Assassins' Guild - Week 1 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 1 NewsThere are between (x-y)/2 and (x+y)/2 players waiting to viciously murder you, where x and y are both positive integers. So watch out!
Went to stalk the Master of Ceremonies's lectures for about 10 minutes before being informed "oh no, he doesn't do UNSPECIFIED_SUBJECT, he does UNSPECIFIED_OTHER_SUBJECT" and thus I was in the wrong place. Oh poo.
Great Umpire! I trust this message to Hermes, immortal email service of the Gods, to faithfully tell of what blood has been shed today.
I, Feanor, arose with the sun, taking up my magic weapon - the Claymore of Justice, "Big Issue" Magazines and Tape (COJBIMAT) - and set out to slay the fell warrior, David Pennefather. Over miles of [UNSPECIFIED] field I trudged, braving the Mountains of the East Court, the dark Raked Gravel of Modern Gardening and the Plains of Sport Fields. I came to his doorstep while the sun was still new and paused, ascertaining his wherabouts by pressing an ear to that last shield against my wrath, his door. His merry chuckling at an episode of 'Xena, Warrior Princess' on his computer heartened me - he knew not of my coming! Now was the time to strike!
I burst in, screaming the name of the god Odin! I lunged with my claymore, but he held up an arm to stop me, being struck and flailing weakly, trying to hold me at bay with his superior, lanky reach! Taking the weapon in one hand, I drew back an moment and then plunged the COJBIMAT into his chest, ending his life! As he lay gasping, his lungs too mauled to take in air, I cried with the joy of one who knows Odin's favour "May you sing in Valhalla forever!". Thus was David Pennefather slain.
Queenie has taken a rather lovely Saturday morning stroll through Caius and Trinity eliminating Jonathon (Jon) Dean (Caius) at approximately 11am with a quick stab to the heart as well as the lovely Eileen Wagner from Trinity who exclaimed "Oh that was quick" after she met her bloody end. That's how Queenie works - fast and ruthless (one of the many benefits of my absolute monarchy).
Queenie also attempted to kill The Bandit but after several royal knocks, it became apparent he was either hiding shamefully from my royal presence or probably just out. No matter. Two out of three down...Queenie is ready for the rest of the hunt but what a jolly good start!
Dear Umpire, It is with great sorrow that I report to you the lamentable incident of my own untimely demise at the now bloody hands of a certain Don't Panic. The circumstances surrounding my death were that I was making an attempt on Don't Panic's life when he pulled out a banana/gun and shot me dead in self defence.
I was in my room, doing whatever it is people do on a Saturday afternoon, when I heard a knock on the door. I slowly opened the door and, seeing Emily Room crouched around the corner with a knife in her hand, slammed it in her face and went to prepare a weapon (i.e. write "gun" on a banana). I went outside to confront her on the staircase and, after her throwing knife narrowly missed me, took her out with the gunana.
Thrilled by our recent acquisitions from the local armoury and eager to do the guild's bidding an ally, Carmichael, and I went hunting this afternoon at 17:30. My target: the elusive Mack the Kife. Unfortunately a setmate of his noticed our approach and, after joking with us about our quest, warned the scum of our impending arrival. We immediately realised the futility of continuing, but my rocket launcher was thirsty for its first blood and we pursued the rogue who had given us away up to our target's room. The lock, however, was employed and my ally and I returned empty handed. Never fear! The Dandy Highwayman shall return for Mack the Kife's head soon...
Today Inquisitor Torquemada received a divine visitation commanding him to form a covenant with Nerd slayer and together purge the heretics and noobs of Cambridge. Their first target was Adam Kirton, whose head was pwned by the Nerd slayer after the assassin was helpfully escorted to his room by his fellow neighbours, and welcoming the Nerd slayer with a wide open door. The covenant then turned against Euan Davies, who was likewise welcoming of the tribunal, but was determined to be heretical and purged by Torquemada. William Letton was next to be purged, and was tortured to death by Torquemada's Inquisition: while exercising caution, he did not expect to meet heavenly justice upon opening his door merely a fraction of an inch. The two then attempted to find 1st Earl of Salisbury, but the accursed noob had blockaded himself in his room and refused to respond to the divine call.
I regret to inform you that I have just been assassinated, by Nerd slayer. In terms of what happened, I was caught unawares, making notes for an essay in my room. I was killed with a banana (clearly labelled gun with sticky notes and felt tip), and was pretty much 'shot' at point blank range. There were two players involved, calling themselves the [UNSPECIFIED] mafia, and they utilised the help of one of the people living on my corridor to get close to me.
It was my first day as an assassin, and though the sunny was streaming in my window as I woke, I was filled with a sense of foreboding. The streets of Cambridge were no longer safe for me. Death could come without notice, and without ringing the doorbell. By late afternoon the day had so far passed without incident, but I still felt like I was being watched. I kept to the shadows as I made my way back from Sainsburys. At half five a knock came at my door, which I had bolted and wedged with a chair. I thought it was my neighbour and, if it wasn't, that I would have the wits and the reflexes to slam the door fast enough. I was terribly, fatally wrong. BANG - banana gun to the face. As I lay dying in a growing pool of my own tears, I reflected on how precious life is. Now mine was going to end, here, at the tender age of nineteen, and with James Blunt's "you're beautiful" inexplicably running through my head.
Louis Phenex (Deceased)
It was late at night. New Zealand's greatest outdoorsman was creeping
through the native bush of Tongariro, stalking his deadly prey. The moon
shone dimly through the kauri trees and all was quiet, apart from the
distant noises of an orcish horde laying siege to Te Kuiti.
Suddenly his cellphone rang. "Bugger!" exclaimed Crocodile Dunedin, startling the hedgehog and causing it to dart away behind a nearby tree fern. "Hello? Who is it?"
"How's it going, mate?" asked a familiar voice.
"Oh, it's you," said Dunedin.
"Yeah, it's me," said the Governor-General. "We've got an assignment for you, mate."
"What's it you want this time?"
"We've got an infestation of nasty vermin up in Cambridge and we haven't got anyone better around to sort it out. You'll have to go there and clear the town."
"Fuck, that sounds pretty scary. What is it?"
"It's Jafas, mate. They've breached the Bombay Hills and they're on their way south. Huntly and Ngaruawahia are lost completely. As for Hamilton, we'll have to call in the Aussies and get them to carpet-bomb the place. But our strategic experts reckon you might be able to hold them off at Cambridge."
"That's gonna be bloody tough. Do you think I'll cope, what with me dodgy leg?"
"It was only a weta bite. You'll be fine, mate."
"It was the biggest weta I've ever seen, musta been five centimetres long at least!"
"Nah, you'll be fine, mate, like I said."
There was a pause. "Ok, I'll do it. I'll drive up there tonight in the ute, it's only a couple hundred k's."
"No worries about that, I've organised a plane for you."
"Sweet!"
"Ok, best of luck, mate! Bye now."
The Governor-General put down the phone and took a long sip of Lemon and Paeroa. He was looking forward to the prospect of a month with Crocodile Dunedin out of the country - for little did Dunedin suspect that the plane was headed not for Cambridge, Waikato, but Cambridge, England...
Dunedin stepped off the plane, drowsy and disoriented. "Mate, this it?" he asked the pilot.
"Yeah, mate."
"Bloody long trip. I've never been up to Waikato via Singapore, sounds like a bloody silly idea. Anyway, better see what that smug git down in Wellington wants now." He pulled out his cellphone and dialled the Governor-General. "Hey, what do you want now?" he asked. "I can't see any Jafas, just a heap of Poms..."
"Ah, right, yeah. Well, you'll have to kill 'em off one by one - bloody sneaky they are. The first one on my strategist's master list is Charon. Lurking around [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] at the moment."
"Where the bloody hell's that?"
"You'll have to find it yourself, mate. On foot."
"Fuck, I hate tramping! Why couldn't I bring the ute?"
"Couldn't fit it on the plane, mate," said the Governor-General, sipping his L and P. "Anyway, best get cracking. See ya."
A long while later Dunedin finally reached [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE]. Creeping up to Charon's door with the speed of a tuatara and the stealth of a moa, he readied his hunting rifle and braced to fire. He knocked on the door...
...but there was no response. And worse, it was locked! "Fucken Jafas!" exclaimed Dunedin. "Trickier than I thought." It was going to be a long fight clearing the city of this infestation. But surely the Jafas would be easy to kill when he finally reached them. He'd faced some terrible beasts in his time - stoats, rats, rabbits, Sean Bean - and the Jafas couldn't be worse than them.
Or could they...?
This evening I lurked Don't Panic's room around 22:40. Due either to his
retiring early, or merely being absent, no murder was forthcoming. Blast.
Citizen Erased
Queenie went on another royal hunt but The Bandit evaded her again, in the meantime though - she managed to stab Mr. Callum Picken of Caius after 3 attempts around his door. He was then a very helpful murder victim by escorting us out past the Caius-card activated gate. A true gentleman helping his queen.
Today, I wandered out into cambridge about an hour after lunch, feeling like a spot of lurking and assassinating would probably be a good way to spend a short study break. I set off for [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] to hunt down my target, but was sorely dissapointed to find him not in. Thinking that my day's work was over, I headed for sainsbury's but after encountering a shockingly large queue, I decided to go to Queens college and another one of my targets instead. This time I wasn't disappointed and upon knocking on his door I was invited in. This made stabbing him with a surprisingly sharp pen quite simple.
I was in my room nursing a cracker of a headache and heard a knock on my door. I invited the mystery guest in but they didn't try the unlocked door. I would have been suspicious if the headache hadn't distracted me. I opened my door and could see nobody. I stepped out of the door and from around the corner leaped that guy who loves tom a little too much wielding a biro labelled "knife". He shouted "stab" and stabbed me in the stomach. The injury proved fatal... There was someone else with him who didn't do anything so I thought it pointless to ask this person's name. I assume they were an accomplice.
Shadowy figure, happy with the news of his own successful killing persuaded me to go with him on an assassination attempt on one of my own targets. We reached the door of Owen Hicks having got horribly lost initially on the way through Emmanuel, and he knocked and stood outside making it clear that he was unarmed, whilst I hid beside the door ready to strike. Whether the target was baffled by this tactic or simply too careless to check who was at the door, I don't know, but he opened the door allowing me to strike with my trusty knife. We left feeling content, and went on reconnaissance missions to my other targets, but to no further success.
I had received reports that certain people, including James Glanville, had been seen lurking outside my room with Assassins weapons. When I saw James Glanville in Hall this evening, I followed him out and stabbed him in the back- he said "oh no" and expired.
Unfortunately, I didn't notice that James Glanville had one of the other people from outside my room with him, who briefly left to acquire weapons. I went back to my food, and when I left I was shot with a banana by one of these others. He also shot my roommate, who is not playing.
At around 6:30 this evening another opportunity presented itself to me to assassinate the local celebrity Alex Guttenplan. Warned by my friends that he was in hall downstairs and possibly heavily armed I immediately called for my banana gun and waited stealthily outside the doors. Unfortunately he lingered long over his pudding and by the time he came out there was a large crowd of bystanders who had heard from my loose-lipped acquaintances what was to transpire. The trap, however, still worked wonderfully and with two mighty BANGs he, and his ally who had warned him of my arrival yesterday, were dead.
The Umpire notes:
Although James Glanville was not targeting Alex Guttenplan, James Glanville had been acting suspiciously outside the player's room, so Alex Guttenplan would not be going wanted, were he still alive.
However, Robert May-Miller's kill of Alex Guttenplan's room-mate was, at the time, unprovoked, as the room-mate was not bearing and is not, in fact, playing. Thus Robert May-Miller is now wanted.
Having spent hours pouring over high quality colour snapshots, and finally confident of the identity of my target, I found him walking the streets of Cambridge late this October night. I quickly stole behind him and stabbed once, twice, thrice his heart. To my chargrin, he turned round and at once I saw my mistake - necromancy at work! I fled, before the (un)dead's wrathful master found me befoulling his creation.
As Cerberus the three headed hound of hell was not available I had to resort to the triceratops of doom to slay Arathi Ramachandran at her room in Sidney Sussex last night around 7:30pm. I feel I owe some thanks to the accomplice who has lent me the triceratops and wishes to be known as 'Kippers by Post' (don't ask). Yours Charon
At the Jewish Society Freshers' dinner, I was sitting near a male fresher (whom I had only just met), and heard him mention something about the Guild. Excited to meet another member, I moved over to sit next to him and promptly proceeded to explain my ingenious decoy for anyone who was trying to assassinate me. The boy was unable to contain his laughter; I asked him what was so funny. He withdrew a plastic knife from his pocket and stabbed me rapidly in the heart, saying "You're dead", in front of everyone watching.
The Umpire notes:
Society meetings are OOB. Formal Halls are also OOB. Thus Daniel (Dan) Ivtsan's kill of Gonorrhea is annulled, and Daniel (Dan) Ivtsan is now Wanted.
In the dark of the night, and to great personal peril, I lurked in the shadows, waiting for my chance to enter the impenetrable fortress that is St Michael's Court. My chance came when a foolish cyclist opened the gate, allowing me to stroll in without a care. I entered my targets staircase to find the door wide open and my target sitting slumped in his chair. Leaping in, I sunk my knife deep into his back and felt the joy of the kill... At least I did until I found another knife in his back. Callum Picken had been killed earlier this morning... Bugger.
I rang the door bell of his lair and from inside I held russling and then "okay it's safe" the door then appeared to open on its own accord (someone was hiding behind it) and several metres away from behind a banister a man armed with a neuf gun asked my business, I quickly made up a story as I knew I was out gunned ( I only had a knife). The man from behind the door came out and also had a nerf gun. They then apologized for the rude welcome, I faked interest in their guns and asked for a shot, sadly I didn't yet know which was the target but luckily as I shot their window one turned and called the other alex therefore labelling himself as my target. He then reached for his gun and I begged for another shot and shot him, killing my target.
Crocodile Dunedin was writing a letter. It was not something he did often,
but this was a special occasion. Dear the Governor-General, it read,
I am fed up with the Waikato already. The people here are all
wankers. They are nearly as bad as the Jafas.
For instance,
after I came back this evening from stalking my deadly prey, a young bloke
knocked on the door and asked for someone called James. Verminator and
I told him that he was at the wrong house, but the bloke was quite
interested with the hunting rifle I was carrying (you can never be too
careful). I told him to be careful with it, since I didn't want my apron
damaged - it's a very nice one with my name on it and all.
Anyway, he gave it a shot and managed to break one of the windows.
"Nice," I told him.
"Can I have another go with it?" he
said.
"OK," I said, so he took it and shot me in the chest.
Ruined my nice apron. I was being so nice to him. I even let him try out my
rifle. Wanker.
So that's what the people here are like. All
wankers. I'm coming home on the next pl
The letter ended there.
Dunedin could write no more, because the shot through the chest had
rendered him very thoroughly dead. Blood pooled on the letter and it was
soon quite illegible.
"What a mong," said Verminator.
At approximately 22:10 this evening I experienced the unrivalled thrill that is an Assassin's first kill when I lured William (Will) Richard Ouldridge out of his room and shot him in the face with a banana gun.
As I was returning to my room, a gang of three assassins appeared round the corner, running towards me and shouting about how I wouldn't be able to use my key in time to get in. Fortunately I did and managed to escape.
Stardate 64263.1, 11:10 am Captain's Log Supplemental:
Myself
and Tuvok took the delta flier to follow up on a report of criminals
plaguing ships in the area. Have ascertained their rough locations we
preceded to visit Robert May-Miller but he had invested in the latest force
field technology and out attempts were thwarted. Next time we'll bring a
borg.
After this we proceed to check out the second suspect, having
discerned a likely location we headed there to apprehend him, sadly he
slipped through our nets and escaped into the wilds of space.
Having been given knowledge the wise fish sought more,
yet of his quarry little was saw.
Time of Ewent: 1325
Description of Ewent: While finishing delicious chocolate cake in
college canteen, I noticed dangerous wanted criminal Robert May-Miller
(see Starfleet Inwestigative Branch file 2010.10.17/EMM/1830) at next
table. He waved to me as he left- but Law of Federation is not
deterred by someone waving hello. He walked quickly out of hall- I
followed, and threw knife at him when I thought I was close enough. It
missed. He turned and charged at me with banana-gun he had used to
commit crime yesterday. I pointed out that range of banana-gun wery
short, and drew my serwice rewolver. Damn thing jammed! Fortunately I
had other knife- this one hit him when I threw it...
Being wanted in the same college as a policeman with a grudge was never going to be easy... He caught up with me as we left hall. He wasn't bearing any weapons that I could see so I resolved to just move briskly away. He, however, pursued and a form of chase involving neither party wanting to overtly run ensued. I eventually broke as I saw him withdraw a knife from his pocket, and my swift action caused him to miss. He quickly went for his rubber band gun, as I went for my banana. Alas! I forgot that my banana would not work in combat, and my only hope of survival was the knife in my pocket! I charged towards him as his gun jammed and he retreated, but my gun's refusal to work left me at the mercy of his second throwing knife, which caught me just as I started to flee. 1-1 now sir. I hope we can settle this come Lent.
At approximately 1354 hours I was horrified to find myself- Hobson (Or
Hobmeister at Informal occasions) hopelessly lost just as my target was due
to be arriving. Thankfully a contact known only as "Wifey" then directed me
to the pre planned intercept point.
After 10 minutes of leaning against a lamp post watching the prey known only
as "Medics" funnel into a mysterious building that apparently contains a
form of witchcraft called "Pharmacology" I was beginning to give up hope.
As I scoured the faces of a race of mysterious alchemist type people I saw
no sight of the pre Facebook stalked picture.
Time passed, commitment waned and I began to walk home, when my helpful,
cuddly and rather violent monkey minion Tarquin (not a fresher...) noticed
none other than Tomas Kesek (Target designation "Deadmeat") walk right by. I
found myself torn into a wide turn as Tarquin began "pounding" poor Kesek.
Instantly I found my previous feelings of contempt towards the target
dissolve into a wave of sympathy- Tarquin continued his assault on the back
of his poor victim and slowly I realised that the hours of expensive
hypnotherapy had been in vain. His deep seated history of sexual violence
had not been tamed!
As Tarquin "Finished" his shameful act the Oxbridge educated monkey rose to
begin his clean up. It was only then that poor Kesek muttered he had already
been "Seen to"! Tarquin and I shuddered at the knowledge that Deadmeat was
rather too Deadmeat!
As Tarquin wept against my breast, I was saddled with the enormous guilt of
owning a sexually deviant, violent and fluffy Monkey...
Kesek- please forgive me....
Hobson
p.s. Just to clarify Tarquin is a toy monkey.
The sunlight dimmed over the stronghold of unjust Mossad as a shadowy warrior boldly breached defences of the main gate and Mossad's personal staircase. As he climbed up to the top floor shadows danced and flickered around him, but also grew darker and deeper. The warrior flew through the main corridor and burst into the Mossad's chamber. Seeing his target, the warrior threw his knife, however when it missed he had to finish his doing with a dire mace.
At 2:55 today, I was let in to my targets accommodation by a naive resident whom I tricked into believing I was visiting a friend. After diligently lurking by Tom Reynolds' room for half an hour, I assassinated my target as he came up the stairs with two throwing knives to the chest.
After viewing the environs of this mortal, Freddie Tapner yesterday and finding him wanting, I decided to descend from Olympus today to fulfil the inevitable decree of the Fates, and carry him for the judgement of Hades. When I arrived, I immediately filled the building with my disharmonious presence, and I waited for him to emerge. It took a mere ten minutes for him to heed the call of destiny, and when he did leave, innocently clutching a Mars bar in one hand, it was little effort to extinguish his life through my will. It was later revealed that it would have been even less effort to simply open his door, which had been unlocked, but that perhaps would have been less fun. Kalliste
I write with deep displeasure regarding my untimely demise earlier this
afternoon.
I was sitting in my boudoir, quite happily plundering through equations when
my bladder called. When a man's got to go, a man's got to go, so I rose
blithely from my chair, quite unaware of the possibility of killers lurking,
opened the door, only to be confronted by a man wielding a banana gun. Such
frightful weaponry man had not yet witnessed until that moment: long, yellow
and curvy, with a sticky label containing that fateful word: 'gun'.
I heard a bang and it was all over in a flash of yellow. I hit the door hard
as I fell, trying desperately to cover my wound, but to no avail. Tapdog
passed away at 5:10pm on the 18th October 2010. Rest in peace my friend,
rest in peace.
Tapdog
Today, 19:45, Funka returned from the laudry and proceeded to chat to a friend. His assassin, Nabodit 'Naz' Paudyal, was stalking the hall and questioned Funka and his friend at his friends door. Funka proceeded to denie he was who he was and Naz left. 5 minutes later Naz knocked again and entered looking for funka, whereby Funka jumped out and immobilised his arm. Naz proceeded to run away onto the grass of New Court, promptly followed by Funka with his gun. Finally, after falling over a hedge, Nabodit 'Naz' Paudyal was terminated by Funka.
After a full day of extreme paranoia, and much fear of death, I was reduced
to locking myself in my room. My neighbour was determined to kill me. I
went to talk things through with him, but carried a banana-gun with me for
safety.
On my way, I visited every nook and cranny that a person could possibly be
hiding - including a cursory sweep of another neighbour's room (Luminara's) - with Luminara in it.
I reached my other neighbour and started chatting. Luminara came out of his
room, and struck up a conversation about assassins - then, without warning,
said "You don't need to worry about that anymore" and took out a ruler
(clearly labelled "knife") from his pocket, stabbing me.
It was a totally legitimate kill, as I had openly walked into his room
bearing a weapon.
I am therefore unquestionably dead.
Reuven Shirazi entered my room brandishing a gun, for no apparent reason, then left. I quickly labelled up my knife and left my room, following. Sure enough, he was there, still holding the weapon in full view of the public, debating whether or not he was alive. I decided to settle the matter and swiftly cut his throat.
At around 22:30 this very evening, I was tragically parted from my life by the dastardly CuriousFox, due to my folly in following her down a flight of stairs, and then missing with my throwing knife. She quickly dispatched me with shots from her water pistol. Her victory was shortlived however as Griddlebone in turn ended her reign of terror as, once Anna had foolishly revealed her identity, Griddlebone swiftly stabbed her in the heart.
What a coincidence that she saw me killing Charles, and then killed me...
At eight o'clock yesterday evening, Charles Board and I armed ourselves to the eyeballs and infiltrated Trinity College - Charles Board wished to hunt down Sealion, and I tagged along in the role of wide-eyed accomplice to my more experienced ally. Sealion failed to respond to my knocks upon his door, so we slunk off back to our lair. Later, the two of us were enjoying the scintillating conversation of our deceased friend's Dan Ivtsan's corpse, when a woman burst in, demanding in a Russian accent to know the whereabouts of 'Charles Board'. We made up a cunning lie and sent her on her way. Charles Board pursued her down the stairs. Unfortunately his throwing knife went awry - immediately she turned and fired a round of shots into his head. Her victory was short-lived, however, as I identified her as being unluckily on my own personal hitlist and stabbed her rather fatally in the heart.
Since beginning my new thesis on the quantum mechanics of death, I decided
some investigative fieldwork was required, to give me a greater insight
into the death process. My first subject, a Tuskan360 was not in his
natural habitat, and as a result, I was unable to secure him for use. The
second subject, Peter A. Jones, was within his habitat. I lured him out and with
surgical precision ensured that I was able to witness the quantum event of
death first hand. With his dying breath he uttered 'Don't let it end like
this, tell them I said something'. Were I not a man of science, I would say
that I was moved, but all I felt was a sense of intellectual fulfilment.
Unfortunately, I found more about death than I had attended when I
attempted to include my next target, HelpImTrappedInAPseudonymFactory in my experiments. As I lured
him out I suspected that he was armed, and indeed he was. Certain words
were exchanged. Also, certain bullets. Following the lengthy shoot out, one
of his projectiles finally hit home, and I was able to witness the
intrinsically beautiful quantum effect of death first hand.
Prof. Pestilence tracked me down to my room and attempted to kill me, but in the elastic band vs. nerf fight that ensued in the corridor, he was the one to fall.
Today I arranged a meeting in town with an old school friend to catch up; I
told her I'd see her at her room, as I hadn't been there yet. Starting out
from Girton College, Birmingham, UK, I made good time for my lectures at 11
and 12, and went on to [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE] where I was meeting my friend at 1.
Little did I know that said 'friend' (who was the only person who knew
where we were meeting) had arranged an assassination attempt for me outside
her room. Janitor911 was waiting at the bottom of staircase X, and after
asking me if I was there to see my friend, he brutally gouged my liver with
a knife. I expired quickly; the attack was merciless.
I was a naïve, worthless, useless assassin today; it was only when the
knife had been withdrawn and the life started to drain from me that I truly
began to realise what was happening. Until next time, Janitor911. Lent term
will be a loooooong one for you. As for my 'friend,' relations are now
frosty. I would advise her not to make an appearance at my funeral, at
least not without a stab-proof vest.
I enlisted the help of a femme fatale to lure this foreigner ( as Girton is so far away it's in another country) to my college. Then she resided within the college walls as I casually waited for his arrival. When he was abruptly stopped by a locked door I kindly offered assistance, but the only help I give him was stopping him joining the incompetence list. I gently slide my blade into him with pleasurable results.......he died.
Killing people who haven't wronged you is immoral, the targets that you
receive haven't wronged you in any way. The people coming up with nefarious
ways of making you meet your demise on the other hand is a different story.
After someone I didn't know attempted to add me on
UNSPECIFIED_SOCIAL_NETWORKING_SITE, I became suspicious. Some research
later led me to the fact he was an assassin and some other useful
information, so I set about making him face up to his actions.
After tracking him for about 20 minutes, he sat down for lunch, leaving him
open for a stabbing. Of course, turns out he wasn't specifically targetting
me, he'd just planned to use me to get at someone else. Oh well, he's still
dead.
At least I stabbed him in the front...from behind.
Also, my paranoid self shot an innocent I didn't recognise emerging from my
corridor. Double fail.
Malcolm Reynolds
I was sitting at a table in the old computational engine laboratory cafeteria with some acquaintances discussing FPGAs. (That stands for Ferret Powered Gate Architecture for those not in the know.) The time was around half past one. I was just making the hypothesis that making the ferrets behave consistently with truth tables may present somewhat of a challenge when a young ruffian stabbed me roughly from behind. As I fell from my chair, my acquaintances were paralysed with fear, so much so that a Firefly, among their number, failed to either defend me nor avenge my death. As I bled to death on the floor my killer informed me he went by the name of Christopher Powell and that he had caught me, one a group of killers contracted to kill him. I informed him, in my dying breath, that this was not the case but rather that he had assumed that my attempt to join our nodes in the global pneumatic social network was in fact an attempt not to access his archives, but the archives of one of his friends who I was banking on having somewhat lax privacy settings. Since it turned out I still had another dying breath in me, I also informed him that my police ghost (ghoul bobby? zombie cop? officer skeleton?) would haunt him to his precious little grave.
So, I kind of recognised the guy from lectures - I think I met him
once before but he didn't remember me (Unhappy face). Anyway, I saw he was
having lunch and so left him until leaving where I shot him with my water
gun. He seemed a bit startled but not upset about it.
My first kill! (Very Happy face)
I have been out hunting today, at 4pm, but must confess a failure on all fronts. My assassin-scent led me to visit the homely hideout of "Janitor911", and despite being armed to the teeth, only recieved notice from a mutual friend that this man was at "three hours worth of supervisions". Satisfied that he would at least be dying through supervision workload, (if not through my own hands), I left the scene upset... in search of a consolidating kabab.
Approximately 1 minute ago a friendly fellow in a suspicious black coat announced his arrival on the intercom and appeared outside my door with a knife. I promptly chased him back out and horribly ineptly, after many shots, took him down. And now as I return to work, the killer's remorse sets in. Perhaps in another life we could have been friends. I think I will just offer the next assassin a nice cup of tea and see if we can work it out amicably.
After a brief period of espionage I discovered the whereabouts of Master of Ceremonies's room. Alas, he was gone. I also discovered the name of the student
in the adjacant room, who to protect the innocent I shall call Jim Frank
Bob Smith.
Upon my return I attempted to use Jim's name to gain access to the house.
Unfortunately, my target had never heard of Jim Frank Bob Smith, and
thought it was a trap. As I walked down the corridor he emerged armed with
two loaded guns. He fired. He missed. I turned and fled down the corridor,
as I was now unarmed (I had surprise and a knife. The former had been lost
and the latter ricoched gracefully off his gun.) He pursued. There was a
brief yet epic chase. 4 more shots whizzed past my head. The 5th was a
direct hit to the temple. I am dead. Whoops.
Zombie Girl had contracted The Infection, commonly known as "Freshers'
Flu", on Monday, so had now died and become a zombie. However, all hope did
not seem lost; she was determined to resurrect herself as an assassin, and
finally turn the tables on the survivors vs zombies battle once and for
all.
Her rubber band gun arrived that very day, so Zombie Girl spent the
afternoon training herself with her weapon in preparation for her stand
against the humans. However, as she was a decaying corpse, and had not yet
eaten any new brains to gain knowledge, she was still sadly lacking in
common sense. When her fellow Infected popped by her crypt to say hi, she
foolishly staggered into the corridor (signs of excellerated necrosis
evident in her slow jerky movement) leaving her door open and her gun
behind.
That was when The Russian came. Silent and deadly, he moved with the grace
of the Uninfected. Noticing that he stalked her very crypt, Zombie Girl
took cover, drawing her knife and a friend's throwing star to defend
herself, and crept back to her room. Sadly, she forgot to check the kitchen
adjacent to her room, and her unlife ended with a rubber band shot to the
guts. However, her brain was not fully destroyed from blast, so she may yet
return...
At five tventy five on this afternoon of 19th Oktober, I made great success
in killing of Jessica (Jesse) Daley, known as Zombie Girl.
Using old KGB techniques to gain entry to building, I found room of target
without problem. However, target was wisiting her comrade down hall, and
spied me entering her room with intent to give her murder. She hid behind
door, but I drew on KGB experience working in capitalist-pig USA, and hid in
kitchen. Believing me gone, target tried to reenter room, but was executed
with trusty makarov pistol when I stepped out from behind kitchen door. I
now make plans to eliminate other enemies of the state...
С любoвью,
The Яussian.
I have to notify you about much blood-shedding when the night was dawning on Tuesday 19 October. I was in my room, resting from a hard day's work, when I heard a knock on the heavy gate of my room. My suspicion was aroused, but I decided to rest, since I was much tired. 10 minutes later the knock returned and this time I decided to welcome the unsuspected guest. Being aware of vile villains crouching through the night with violence on their vicious mind, I grabbed my rubberbandgun and looked through the spyhole of my door. A stranger stood there, smirking. I recognized the face, but not the name. Carefully I opened the door, clasping my gun. And indeed, my instinct had not betrayed me, but my reflexes did. The thug stabbed me with a dagger, hitting my left rib. However, in the very moments that followed I shot with my gun, hitting him twice in the stomach.
This evening I took a rather short stroll to the room of Thomas Clausen armed with my trusty dagger. As I knocked on the door there was a long delay and a lot of rummaging around before the door finally opened, I deduced he had taken the time to arm him self, he was not what I was hoping for in a first target, I had anticipated somone worse prepared. However there was no going back now, as the door creaked open my dagger flashed forward impaling him in the chest, less than half a second later I was struck by a rubber band from his weapon.
Red Squirrel went hunting for Michael Armstrong, but Armstrong already dead. Thirsty for blood, Red Squirrel searched for Thoughtfox. Thoughtfox suspicious, ask questions, not open door. Red Squirrel evaded questions but failed to feast. Red Squirrel hunt again soon.
Having waited for nearly 20 minutes outside the Verminator's (A.K.A. Alex
"I'm in the TA part time but don't like to mention it" Ronaldson's) house in
the morning for a no show I was delighted to see my target queuing for an
"ENGIN-EERY" Lecture as I cut through on my way home. Having honourably
discharged Tarquin from front line service while he dealt with "Personal
matters" I instead employed the long trusted "Tactical" Gunana complete with
optical flashlight attachment and silenced weapon sound effects. Having
cornered the unaware target I raised the pistol to the young soldier's head
and pulled the trigger. As the noble "soldier's" brains slid down the glass
window in front of me a wave of accomplishment swallowed me. I was about to
begin a hasty run away but fortunately the target was viewed as sufficiently
expendable by the masses that this warranted no attention from onlookers.
Therefore I didn't bother...
As the corpse slumped to the ground the target died with the final words 'I
suppose I'm dead then...' wise words... accurate too.
Cost of 1 Banana- 94p/4 (I couldn't ask for 1 banana...)
Cost of 1 LED torch- £2
Cost of "Supressed weapon sound effects"- Dignity
Reducing the population of Sidney Sussex by 1- Not nearly enough
Lord Umpire, It is with great joy that I write to you. I, William II de
Ferrers, Earl of Derby and Sheriff of Nottingham, have vanquished Robert
Barry. It was a simple matter of knocking on the city gates and then
crouching behind a nearby hill. The gates opened wide and my army charged.
The fallen was stabbed through the heart at 1125 today.
Yours
William II de Ferrers
I lurked innocently outside the Cockcroft Lecture Theatre, aiming
to locate the neck of the elusive Don't Panic and update the public records
accordingly. Unfortunately, in the press of bodies urgently seeking escape,
the target was able to escape. Third time lucky...
Citizen Erased
Considerable effort and guesswork led me to the department of one
Hobson, a well-known miscreant and evil-doer whose life I intend
to claim. Despite flawless timing and poise, and a disguise worthy of
[IDENTITY PROTECTED], the target escaped detection.
Citizen Erased
I parked my bike in the bike bays and awaited his appearance from lectures. When he showed his face I kept my composure, fiddling with my panaea until his back was turned. Then I produced a large sabre and jumped him, slashing him twice in the back. His feeble body slumped to the floor crying aloud: "Oh so you've killed me!"
After catching no sight of his target once again, he began to suspect the whispers of the jellyfish may have been misleading. Damn those jellyfish and their awkwardness, damn them!!
Some players missed out on Chocolate today. Healthy for them- they say there's such thing as death by Chocolate...
It was a pleasant afternoon
And feeding time was coming soon
When at my side there did appear
A lone assassin standing near.
She grabbed my arm and came for me
And in my shock I could not flee
But this assault I could withstand:
There was no weapon in her hand!
Despite this she would not be harmed
For it appeared I was unarmed.
Alas we went our separate ways
And lived to kill another day.
*rawk!*
The Umpire notes: You cannot kill someone without a weapon. There are no Unarmed Attacks in Cambridge.
I believed myself safe,
protected by not one but two coded locks. I proved lax in my security,
arrogant at the heart of my fortress.
It was the human factor that proved to be my undoing. Yes. I was betrayed.
My wrought iron gates counted for nothing as my serpentine killer overcame
them with his wily words.
He rushed me with an almighty howl. The dagger in his hand shattered on
contact, even as its tip pierced my heart.
He gloated over me as blood poured from my mortal wound and my heart
slowed. He had won. There had been no fight, no chance, no hope. Reality is
most unkind.
I followed a unsuspecting undergraduate of Sidney-Sussex into Cromwell court through the various keycode entries. Once in the building it was just a matter of finding the room. The door was unlocked and I just ran in for a stabby-stabby. Thomas 'Tom' Hillsdon screamed like a little girl and with his dieing breath exclaimed: "I should have locked my door!"
This evening I did set about stalking after my prey, at roughly 16:00, cutting through the chill air in my pursuit of bloodshed. Before long I had found my way to the dwelling of the fleshy creature I was charged to slay, but tragically my attempts to summon this being forth proved fruitless.
I managed to locate and infiltrate the base of Jeff Carpenter. I was let in by one of his careless neighbours. While climbing
up the first floor I took out the banana-gun, checked the magazine and
reloaded.
I was ready for killing and headed for my target's room. There
was paper on the doors saying: "If the key is in I am in, knock and say HI!
Jeff"
The key was in.
I entered with the gun prepared, aimed and said
"BANG!" killing him instantly.
Whoever was just sneaking about outside the house, I apologise for not shooting you.
Myself and Mr. Beverage had decided to form some kind of unholy coalition of killers
and so together we decided to make the long, arduous journey to one of my
targets' colleges to pay him a little visit. With me I brought a single
knife and my trusty pet snake, dubbed MURDER SNAKE. Mr. Beverage was equipped with a
small side arm. After striding in confidently through the front gate we
came to our first obstacle: the door to James Nicholas Lane's staircase was locked.
However through some kind of miracle one of the doors to the neighbouring
staircase had been left slightly ajar - through this we were able to gain
entry into the building. After lurking around James Nicholas Lane's room for a few minutes
we decided he wasn't going to be around any time soon and started
descending the stairs, passing a suspicious looking guy. After he was out
of earshot, Mr. Beverage turned to me, whispering, "wasn't that him?". It was. James Nicholas Lane
very soon became aware that he was being tailed and broke out into a run.
We followed in hot pursuit, bounding down stairs, slamming doors open and
even running on the grass. We eventually managed to corner him and I
unleashed MURDER SNAKE, who devoured him whole. Oh and Mr. Beverage shot him as
well.
Afterwards we made our way to a different college to take out one of Mr. Beverage's
targets. However he was nowhere to be seen. Either he anticipated our
arrival or he was just damn lucky.
MURDER SNAKE hungers.
Yesterday, at 5.30 pm, as dusk was beginning to fall, my friend and comrade
Don't Panic and I set out through the chill and lonely streets with intent
most foul. We slipped through the shadows into the foreboding college of
St. Catherine in search of James Nicholas Lane. Finding the door to his staircase
locked, we slyly gained entrance to the adjoining staircase through a door
left ajar, and made our way to his room. After lurking outside his door for
a fair span of time, we were heading back down the stairs when none other
than our quarry passed us on the way up. Allowing him to pass, we turned
and followed. However, he quickly realised our intent and fled. We gave
chase, perusing down more stairs and around a court until, cornered, he
fell victim to Jambon's deadly pet serpent.
As the shadows deepened, we made our way to [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE] in search of Krollski. However, after finding his room empty and lurking outside the
buttery until dark had truly fallen, we postponed our quest for another
day.
Mr. Beverage
So I was in my room with my friend, pwning up some noobs on Starcraft 2 when all of a sudden I heard a knock on my door. As I was busy pwning up some noobs, I told my friend to get the door, even shouting "YEP" to the unidentified person behind the door. Of course the thought that it was an assassin did cross my mind, as did the thought that I should have told my friend to look through the peeping hole on the door, but the events happened far too fast for me to act upon these thoughts. Unfortunately I forgot to lock the door, so my assailant just did away with the formalities and stabbed me in the face.
Lieutenant Chakotay made an attempt to justly take the
life of criminal Christopher Powell tonight.
Having first rode past the house and back again, making certain the criminal's
house was correct, I stopped and approached the door.
Equipped with fake amazon parcel, posing as late delivery boy, rang and asked
for Chris.
Unbeknowing, a non-player accomplice was sent to scout me out. Resulting in an
ambush! To which I responded justly with my Automatic AK47 water gun. He ran
away! So I slowly followed with gun and various knives in hand. (he was nowhere
to be seen)
Whilst being distracted by friends of the criminal, I was ambushed yet again
from behind (he circled the house) and was was sadly KIA with a NERF headshot.
Chakotay, KIA, 8:00PM, Wednesday 20th 2010, Delta Quadrant.
I don't like shooting people in the back, it takes away the satisfaction of hitting them square between the eyes.
While deeply immersed in plotting (no, not for a kill, a maths function) I heard a knock on the door. No worries though, it must be the friend who said he'd be coming round soonish, right? Alas, I underestimated the cunning/luck of my assassin and when, in a moment of stupidity, I opened the door without looking through the peep-hole, I got what was coming for taking the game too lightly - two seconds of bewildering accomplice talk and a swift, lethal pen-wound to the kidney from an assassin. My biggest regret is not removing the earphones from my laptop before getting killed (Flameheart went to waste). I shall be far more paranoid in the next game.
Hannah McLaughlin, Foucault and I went out this evening. We visited Richard Perez-Storey, one of Hannah's targets, and after getting in to his corridor he identified Hannah, stabbed her and was shot while still bearing his knife by yours truly. Hannah and Richard dead, we moved on to Foucault's target Ice Ice Baby, who cycled past but didn't get shot, and then we visited polka who was sadly out buying ice cream. Calling it a night we headed back.
1st Earl of Salisbury, Hannah McLaughlin and myself went out on a
group hunt. Upon finding Hannah's target's room, she knocked and he opened
the door. 1st Earl of Salisbury was on hand to gun down the now bearing target, but sadly not
before Hannah was brutally stabbed to death.
We then proceeded to examine the house of my target Ice Ice Baby, and were
incredibly lucky to have him arrive home by bike at that exact time. I,
however, did not recognise him quickly enough, and he escaped to the safety
of his house. After lingering around for several more minutes, he opened the
door, and when we greeted him in a friendly manner, promptly slammed it on
our faces.
Finally, we went to the residence of a target of 1st Earl of Salisbury's, but found him to be
"out to get ice cream". We finished at around 2100 with one kill but sadly
one death in our party.
Your Holiness the Umpire,
I write with considerable indignation to report an attempt made on the
life of myself, the Grand Inquisitor. After an unsubtle attempt to force
open the locked door of my sanctum, my would-be assassin(s) attempted to
lure me out by asking whether I had left my pans in the nearby gyp room.
Not being in possession of such mundane items, I refused to leave my
sanctum. I heard the requestor leave, but not long afterwards I heard
the sounds of someone attempting to open my ground-floor window from the
outside. It is clear that there are demonic heresies at work in
Cambridge, and it falls to myself to purge them.
Inquisitor Torquemada
The Umpire notes: You are perfectly free to enter the accommodation of an assassin by an open door or ground floor window. However, if either is closed and locked, you may not force them.
It is with great sadness that I must inform you of my untimely demise. Having resolved only today to go on my first hunt, I was sharpening my lethal dagger (writing 'knife' on a blunt pencil) when I heard a knock at the door. I asked "who's there," and when my intensive questioning elicited no response, I resolved to remain safely behind my wooden portcullis. A few minutes later, another knock came. This time, I'm afraid curiosity got the better of me and, like a fool, I opened the door. In my arrogance, I thought that I could take out any attackers with my deadly dagger. I was prepared for a gunana attack, throwing knives, even rubber band guns; what I hadn't foreseen was the use of a lightsaber. Score one to OSmeone. Curiosity killed this cat stone-dead, and 12 has been subtracted. On the plus side, he did give me a consolatory Kit-Kat.
After three successive days spent unsuccessfully stalking three successive targets, I finally succeeeded to the rank of practiced assassin not thirty minutes ago. After ignoring my first knock, curiosity got the better of her five minutes later, but ironically it was in fact a light sabre that killed the cat.
TARGET TERMINATED 8:17 IN BEDROOM
During my daily jog-whilst-brushing-teeth session I heard a knock on the door. Upon opening, The One was there - not too out of the ordinary, he only lives [UNSPECIFIED-LOCATION]. However, in the excitement of oral hygiene I'd let my guard down and The One shortly produced a knife (looked very much like a highlighter - yellow, of course) which resulted in my rather untimely death. I didn't even have time to use mouthwash.
So, I am somehow still alive after what would have been a pretty perfect
assassination.
A few days ago, a post-it mysteriously appeared on my door. Apparently, the
people in my house knew who put it on there but were refusing to tell me.
Anyway, this seemed to be from secret admirer (one of many I am sure) and
so I responded.
We agreed to meet at Tatties (One on Trin. St is sooooo good) at 10:00.
After an eventful night, I skipped my alarm and woke up at 10:05...
What followed was of course a flood of profanities, but I rushed to the
meeting point in Tatties where I was greeted by the barrel of a gun rather
than the gaze of a familiar face. I was shot, but the bullet narrowly
missed my heart and I clung to life. Ever way, I was assumed dead by the
offending stranger.
At this point, I decided it would be best to pretend I was and hope they
would leave my body be. They did. A narrow escape...
Oddly, the mysterious post-it was put up before the game had even started
and my potential killer claimed that he did not know of the post-it's
origin?
Kitty Noone stood outside the college, watching. The Target was inside, she knew. She'd been here before, twice now. Neither time had been fruitful, but they hadn't been pointless either. She?d met people on his floor, who, mistaking her for a college friend, had told her everything she needed to know. His habits, his subject. And now she knew his timetable; knew he had no lectures this morning. And if what she'd been told about his partying was true, there was no chance the Target would be up and out.
She was about to stride through the gates when she suddenly realised something. She was still wearing her college scarf! Kitty cursed her stupidity, and stuffed the offending article into her bag. Then she sauntered in, with a casual nod and "Morning" to the porters. They smiled back, unsuspecting.
The corridor to his room was empty, and she placed her rucksack on the ground. There was a faint rustling from inside, and Kitty gave it a small shake. The rucksack quivered as whatever was inside struggled to break free.
Kitty opened the rucksack and out came a ball of savage fury. The black feathers glinted in the artificial light and the beak, razor sharp, clacked loudly. Knowing it could only wait so long, Kitty rapped on the door.
A sound from inside. Victory was so close, Kitty could almost taste it. The door opened a crack, and instantly the penguin lunged. The Target tried to slam the door shut, but it was in and on him, beak tearing into his flesh.
When the deed was done, Kitty held the rucksack out, and the bird, now black, white and red all over, hopped back in. Mr Snuggles was sated, for now.
Definitely just got assassinated by a penguin...
Dear Umpire,
I was bored today, so I went and lurked for that guy who loves tom a little too much, between his
lectures (he's a part 1a mathmo) and his house, at about the end of his
lectures. Unfortunately, despite having a picture of him, he didn't seem to
pass that way.
Yours,
Death! Undercover...
At 12 noon I stabbed James Kilbane outside the cockcroft lecture theatre:
I received notification of my target at 10 oclock, by eleven o'clock I
had discovered from a school website his subject, year and a nice
picture of him. On the dot of 12 noon My dagger discovered his heart.
In an obscure part of the Engineering facility, Mr H Quin's motley garb sparkled in the sunlight as she contemplated with
pleasure the prospect of a killing spree later that day. Suddenly, she was
approached by a being of sinister visage who launched a completely
unexpected attack - stopping Mr H Quin in her tracks with a dagger to the
gut.
The shock was great. "Who are you!?" she cried in a tortured voice. "Who
are you who leaves me bleeding in the dust?" But only a gentle breeze
answered her wretched call as the unknown assailant had slithered away.
Mr H Quin: dead and burning for revenge...
DATE AND TIME: 212015(Z) OCT 10
UNIT: S CO 4-38 HO
SIZE: One group of two.
ACTIVITY: Moving south to north in line formation.
LOCATION: U3 SC Emm
ENEMY UNIT: 'Paul Rubenstein'
TIME OF OBSERVATION: 211800 OCT 10
EQUIPMENT: Enemy 'Paul Rubenstein' had had devoured all potential
nutritional projectiles before assault.
SENDERS ASSESSMENT: Threat successfully neutralized.
NARRATIVE: Secured assistance of unwitting local. Entered enemy territory
incognito. Positioned self outside target HQ. Dispatched of 'Paul Rubenstein' through use of hidden knife concealed within combat uniform. No
casualties. Not discovered. Successful retreat back to base. Friendly
deceased accomplice Mr.H Quin observed these activities.
AUTHENTICATION: Major Lenn, OVER.
At approximately 8:30, Forbes Peter Francis Lindesay was obliviously texting
near the back of the Robinson College cafe. Stealthily Felix Haukner
crept up behind him, called him (to ensure his identity) and then
stabbed him (with his trusty, fully labelled pen-knife).
This was lucky for Felix Haukner, as not ten minutes later, a second
assassin arrived on the scene, to find their intended victim already
deceased.
Safe inside my room, I heard an ominous knocking outside the door
connecting the hallway and the small lobby that I share with the adjacent
occupant. I was not expecting anyone so I immediately suspected an assassin
and quickly grabbed for my cardboard knife, being careful not to make a
sound.
The knocking continued, and my name was called in a fleeting attempt to
make me falsely identify the assassin as an acquaintance. At which point I
decided that I had to follow one of two options; either wait inside my room
until he left, or I could go on the offensive and "assassinate my assassin"
so to speak. Fearing being marked down as an incompetent and with the
opportunity to kill someone just outside my room I proceeded to attack.
I slowly crept into the lobby and towards the door of which the continuous
knocking emanated from. My assumption was that my position was unknown to
the assassin however unbeknownst to me he could see me in the reflection of
the lobby window and clearly knew I was approaching. On discovery of this
fact, I foolhardily charged outside my room, dagger in hand and chased him
into a staircase.
Unfortunately he was in the possession of an elastic band gun and being
outranged I was swiftly shot down via one clean torso hit. The assassin
didn't even flinch as he mercilessly ended another's life.
Any wisdom to be gained from this event would be a repeat of the popular
phrase "never bring a knife to a gun fight"
(or alternatively be a bit sneakier than I).
Tonight I returned gloriously to my chambers with a kill under my belt! So anyway, I biked over to St. Catherine's and kindly was allowed entry to my target's staircase. With my pistol in one hand and my water gun in reserve, I stealthily sneaked up to his room and knocked on his door. Minutes passed as I repeatledly knocked on and off. I decided to leave, whereupon entering the landing I spied him peeking out his window at me! I returned to find him coming out his door and promptly shot him with my rubber band pistol. He said he thought I only had a melee weapon, which is why he decided to come out! So anyway, Edward Saban is dead.
My Lord umpire.
It is with great regret that I must report that a
commoner has made an attempt on my, William II de Ferrers, life. I was
alerted to his presence by a bell sounding in my chamber. As all those who
have legitimate business in the castle have a gate key, I knew that this
was a villain.
I carefully opened the gate with the intention of
letting his initial attempt (some contraption launching a lethal fluid)
fall upon an empty entrance hall, before coming around and launching my
throwing knife. When this failed to make contact I slammed the gate,
forcing his attempt to become a verbal exchange through a closed window. We
parted ways, and I gave him some time to withdraw before attempting to
retrieve my weapon. The fiend was still outside!
I only just
managed to dodge his fluid weapon- a small amount dissolved through my
visual aid, and the acid left me slightly pockmarked. But not dead. I was
now fully aware of his schemes, and withdrew to my chamber, looking out on
him from the castle wall. I quickly forged 2 new throwing knives, and
attempted to kill him as he withdrew on his 2 wheeled stallion.
Unfortunately the knife was trampled under hoof, and he was now alerted to
my position. Quickly, he dismounted and launched his acid at my (now
closed) window. It's a good job we've had that new acid proof glass put
in.
I feinted a couple of times to cause him to waste munitions.
The breadth of his weaponry was now apparent- a good job the glass is
elastic band proof too. In the end I was forced to open the window and hold
shut my medieval kevlar curtains. By the time I was sure he was out of
munitions, I readied my blade- but he had vanished.
William II de Ferrers
Coursing with the delight of a kill, I decided to bike over to [UNSPECIFIED-COURT], where Marshal resides. Unfortunately he wasn't there, so I went over to [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE], and had a delightful fight with William II de Ferrers. I rang his bell, and he opened the door and threw a pen out, and I fired my water gun at him. The pen shattered on the ground, but the water struck, but William II de Ferrers said he hadn't been hit "with enough" water. So I waited, and shot at him again when he went upstairs, again not getting him enough. We had a friendly chat whlie he was at the window though.
The Umpire Notes: Water spray does not necessary kill if it hits the target - a hit (with any water weapons) is wetness roughly the area of a 5p piece in the case of Water with Care weapons and a 50p piece in the case of all larger weapons.
Dear Umpire,
I used my ninja-esque skills to sneak up on Benjamin (Ben) James Webb and kill him with my banana gun.
Regards,
The Skurge
Queenie lured Britta Tarvis into Cambridge under the false pretence that she would assist her with a target she had in [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE]....it was only as Britta Tarvis and I finally began to find her target that I realised I was late and so I had to abandon what would have been a delicious moment of letting her kill her target only to be killed herself. Instead I said "Britta darling, I'm sorry" and shot her with a water pistol three times...the look of shock and confusion was something I'll never forget!
The Mammoth is dead. In the end I did stick to being a vegetarian, ethics come first! Or it was just my miserable failure at being paranoid enough to stay alive. Here comes my swansong: Queenie and I went on a hunt at [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE] tonight, set on getting Daniello of Camden at last. We listened for information, ran after people with my killer bear all set for action and just when I felt that success is drawing close, Queenie - in a very graceful move, I must give her that - took out her water pistol and shot me. Not even her "sorry" managed to dissolve my complete and utter shock. So a pretty tale of royal betrayal.
My dearest Umpire,
Today around the hours of 5:30pm, I knocked most vigourously upon the door
of my target, The Anvil, hoping to show him the wrong end of my
rubber band gun. Alas, no-one was home and thus I was thwarted by a
nefarious combination of a door code and a lack of helpfully open ground
floor windows.
Kind regards,
Daniel Cadbury
Dancing Shadow was just finishing a letter: (...) I know they are going to
come for me now. The time has come when my hidden enemies gathered enough
resources to destroy me. I hope it is not the last letter I send (...) when
he heard a knock on his chamber's door. Suspiciously he looked through the
peephole and saw an unknown figure.
"Who dares to disturb me at this time of night?" he asked.
"Christopher, the Unknown" was the answer.
"What is your matter here?" he asked again.
"Beware! Because I will be your death!" was the answer as figure dissolved into shadows of the corridor.
"It harrows me with fear and wonder. I must stop this devilish appearance!" Dancing Shadow thought as he sat down to finish the letter.
At 8:40 today I, while suffering from a bout of the evil fresher's sickness, decided to wake up and have a shower. Not thinking, I failed to bring my trusty knife. Big mistake. As I left the shower Blackdragon attacked me with a banana gun, but fortunately for me he was out of range. I proceeded to barricade myself in the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, I decided to break for my room, sprinting up the corridor, but as I turned the keys in the door I was brutally shot at point blank range from behind. The moral of the story - never ever ever go anywhere unarmed!
"T3H B100D D035 N0T F10W 50 FR331Y TH353 D4Y5. WH3R3 4R3 T3H N00B5 WH3N U N33D TH3M?" ~ T3H 1337 K1LL3R on failing miserably - disheartened but still very much elite.
I grow weary of this cold, desolate hive-world. Best to get this job over and done with. My faithful servitor had located the target, so I moved into position behind her, and inserted a mechadendrite into her spine. Unfortunately, the subject failed to survive the following... scanning procedures, and did not contain the information I sought. I must search once more.
I gave a little visit today to a well known drug lord named The Watermelon Man in his mansion in [UNSPECIFIED-COLLEGE]. I had to use all my ninja techniques to pass his fiercom security forces, but when I finally reached his lair, prepared for final duel and holding my good-old gunana.. .. well the sneaky rat was not in his home (or he was too scared to open the door) so sadly no kill for me today :(
Having just got back to my Well of Knowledge and eating one or two of Odin's acorns I had a suspicious knock on the well lid, and was asked if I'd misplaced my keys. As they were on the table next to me (yes I have a table in my well) I suspected a red rodent! A failed forced entry was met with me chasing the assailant out of the well and into nearby courts, where after a prolonged fire fight the assailant finally fell to a well placed squirt. Well met, Didrik.
Fearing to get on the imminent incompetence list, I decided the time had come to take decisive action. I infiltrated my victim's staircase and knocked on his door. The sly bastard didn't open the door, but asked me who it was. I gave the bogus pretense of having a found a set of keys, but he didn't fall for it. I decided to stick around in case he got curious, which he did. He unfortunately had a much bigger gun than me, and after some skirmishing amongst the college's pillars, I felt a bullet penetrate my skull and shatter my brain. It hurt, a lot. Then I spiraled down into bottomless nothingness.
Greetings venerable Umpire and fellow Cantabrigians of a nefarious nature!
I took the time out of my precious little life this afternoon to take a
short tour 'round some centre colleges and their various en/exclaves.
First on the list was the delightful fellow Gypsy King of [UNSPECIFIED].
Defended stoutly by a card-locked portcullis. Waiting around in the
hopes of another resident letting me in amounted to nothing.
Next on the shopping list was to be the future corpse of Red Squirrel
of [SLIGHTLY-LESS-UNSPECIFIED]. In this case, getting to court,
staircase, floor and corridor were simple tasks; however, my opponent
was clearly versed in the first line of defence: leave your door locked.
I would've camped the landing or perhaps even try to woo his manly charm
through the peephole in his door, but movement down the corridor caught
me off-guard and I turned my multiple tails and thunderbolted down
multiple flights of stairs, vanishing to the ether.
Final point on my tour was OSmeone of [REALLY-NOT-SPECIFIED-AT-ALL],
but with his college's maze of buildings and my own pressing
engagements, I decided it best to retreat to warmer climes.
The girl clasped in one hand a writing pad, in the other
hand a pen. No need for suspicion. She wandered around [unspecified
college] seemingly lost, glancing everywhere. A little suspicious. Finally,
she pranced up a spiral staircase and upon finding the door to a assassin,
she knocked.
The assassin was naturally cautious. But there was no need to be cautious,
was there? All this girl wanted was to ask a few questions regarding
Fresher's week. He took all the precautions that a good assassin should
take, but on opening the door a fraction the girl just looked mildly
confused. "It's okay, not an assassin!" he exclaimed cheerfully to his
skype(?) friend, as he opened the door properly. It was just a survey.
She'd only neglected to tell him it was a survey OF DEATH.
This seemed far from true, however, when she asked him about the fresher's
week schedule, which he praised. But then, 'conveniently', her pen didn't
work! (Clearly bought from some second-hand biro salesman). "Let me get
another" she said calmly. Meanwhile he reached to find her a pen too. Very
kind.
She was quicker, retrieving a pen from under her coat. Unfortunately for
the assassin it wasn't a pen. It was a Terrifying Man-Eating Dinosaur. It
didn't hesitate to devour the assassin, who despite his savage end had been
excellently cautious. Just not quite cautious enough... a confused-looking
girl with a random-surprise-survey = a bit suspicious, really.
As the competency deadline looms, The Jackal's Jackalope Jacket must unfortunately report a depressingly kill-free hunting evening. Thoughtfox was nowhere to be found, despite lurking around his room for a good 40 minutes from 5.50 ish (in the hope that he might be leaving his room for dinner). Jambon, on the other hand, remained tauntingly out of reach - I was defeated by a cunning security mechanism on the staircase door (a lock).
Karandeep Nandra at Clare College suffered a deadly
blow by super heated toxic water (a shot by my water gun.)
His peers kindly observed me knocking on his door and making up a very
unsuccessful cover story, but he came out, tried to kill me, missed,
and I got him! Then we had a friendly chat and I left! Good times...
See you someday
Kiwi Sin
In dark night, I sneaked into [UNSPECIFIED-CASTLE]. Although at some point you had
to show special seal to get further, I found a secret passage, protected by
something that can merely be called a lock. As I was getting closer to my
target chambers it was getting quieter and quieter, a finally, my worst
suspicions turned out to be true. This part of a castle was deserted.
Kind regards,
nivwusquorum
Chapter 1
AN: Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik) 2 my bf (ew not in that way) the
umpire 4 helpin me wif da story putting dis on da website. U rok! [UMPIRICAL NOTE: I have nothing to do with this strange person. No really. And that "bf" had better stand for best-friend, but even that disturbs me...] Justin ur
da luv of my deprzzing life u rok 2! MCR ROX!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hi my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony
black hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that
reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people
tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out
of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a
major fucking hottie. I'm a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I
have pale white skin. I'm also a witch, and I go to a magic school called
[UNSPECIFIED_COLLEGE] in England where I'm in the seventh year (I'm
seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black.
I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I
was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather
miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black
lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was
walking outside [UNSPECIFIED_COLLEGE]. It was snowing and raining so there
was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I
put up my middle finger at them.
"Hey Ebony!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was The Watermelon Man, wielding a
blood-soaked nife!
"What's up The Watermelon Man?" I asked, pulling out my nife.
"Nothing." he said shyly.
But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.
"Meet me on Sunday. We shall fight to the bloody death", he said. This made
me excited, as I like blood.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me fangz!
Alas, I am slain! Through the treachery of one of my neighbours a certain Christopher Walsh was able to catch me by surprise while leaving my room and gun me down with a banana. However, I had been entertaining a few friends in my room and one of them, a fellow assassin, was able to take immediate vengeance upon the scoundrel. Good on you, Mr. Beverage.
Last night at approximately 2000 hours I witnessed up close the grizzly shooting of my compatriot Weiye Yang by Christopher Walsh. Somewhat unhappy at this development, I quickly drew my own pistol and returned the favour, leaving our unexpected assailant dead on the floor. Mr. Beverage
I went to kill Weiye Yang by waiting around the corner of his room for half an hour. A stake out. When he finally came out I killed him with my banana gun. Alas, his friend (an assassin) was with him to avenge his death and shot me with his toy gun. Gutted. As I faded away from consciousness I think I caught his first name as Mr. Beverage. I forget though.
Sitting in my room at about 8:15pm I heard knocking at the door. My suspicions were aroused, however instead of remaining quiet I decided to try and defeat whoever was outside. Seizing my weapons I released the catch and then stepped back, allowing me to throw my triceratops before my assailant could get close enough to use the sword I glimpsed in the gap.
I put aside my yodeler's lederhosen, donned my ninja garb and, feeling the call of the kill, set off for the walls of [Unspecified_College]. Once within, I danced through the night, slinking from shadow to shadow, an undetectable presence flitting through the winding corridors. I cunningly and stealthily became completely lost and resorted to pleading a porter's aid in locating the room of my target. I was then faced with the most dreaded nemesis of assassins since days of yore; a locked door. With only 4 inhabitants lying beyond, I quickly gave up on waiting for someone to pass through and, recieving no response over the intercom from my target or their neighbours, slunk back into the shadows to bide my time until another day.
Today at around 6pm, my associate informed me he saw suspicious persons
sneaking up to the room of a known co-assassin, Death! Undercover.... Not knowing who
they were, I sneakily snuck up behind them to observe. Unfortunately
nothing much happened, and I watched them leave, frustrated not to get my
chance!
Later, after days of ninja-hiding from my friend-turned nemesis 5, we finally saw each other at the Granta pub at 10pm. After a brief
throwing and dodging of various weapons we agreed on an alliance. For
now...
Around 6 p.m. today, two probable assassins entered [UNSPECIFIED] looking
for Death! Undercover.... As they entered, I watched carefully for any signs of
drawn weapons or threatening behaviour, but seeing none, I hesitated to
be the aggressor in a two-on-one fight and retreated to my lair.
Later, at the Granta pub, I spied my nemesis Two. Seeing an
opportunity to end his sorry life, I directed a mighty thrust at him,
but he nimbly dodged aside and, fleeing behind a screen of non-players,
cried "PAX!". We agreed that it would be to our mutual benefit to ally
for the time-being...or at least until such time as he is of no further
use to me...
There I was enjoying some post formal festivities in my friends room in, when in walks a pair of assassins bragging about their most recent kill and one brandishing a loaded pistol. I did my duty as an assassin and stuck a dagger in his chest to the consternation of the entire party. I soon reassured them and we all agreed it was a completely fair kill. We disposed of the body in a nearby skip and continued with a game of "signs".
Went to [UNSPECIFIED] tonight about 10 in search of Dancing Shadow and was directed to a neighbours room. Whilst talking to some of his neighbours on the doorstep (a friendly, but perhaps overly inquisitive bunch) noticed him hiding behind the door. Shot at him over the door with my water pistol but only manage to hit his arm. Next thing I know I've just been coshed and am slipping into unconsciousness. Dancing Shadow wastes no time in finishing me with a stab to the chest, but in a surprising display of mercy, offers a consolation shot of vodka to ease the pain.
Despite apparent attempt on his life Dancing Shadow attended a birthday ball thrown by his very good friend, but just in case took some of his weapons. Just when the clock struck 10:00 some unknown person knocked on the door. As the host was opening suspecting dark intentions he safely hid behind the doors with club prepared. The person asked about Dancing Shadow and at an instant he knew the person wanted to claim his precious life. As they were talking Dancing Shadow looked through the gap between the doors and the wall just to look into assassin's eyes. The next few seconds were very quick. The assailant shot with his magical water weapon over the doors, but he hit Shadow's left arm only. Not leaving time for another shot he struck enemy down with his club. Seeing the intruder falling unconscious he grabbed his knife and stabbed right in the chest. As enemy's spirit was leaving the body Dancing Shadow toasted assailant's courage and perseverance which the spirit gladly accepted.
Seeing as I can usually leap tall buildings in single bound, it was rather strange when I couldn't get past a 2 metre high gate to the home of Feynman. Having not the time to lurk, I left in hopes of better pickings tomorrow.
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