The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 NewsThe Umpire's lust for blood grows. 3 weeks in people and so many lives have been taken; good job to our Police force who have killed more live players these last few days than Assassins have.
So to the rest of you, well done for staying alive but remember to be active- otherwise you'll be running away from our ferocious Police like these dolphins are:
Also killed an innocent with a killer pig at 11:23, I lurked around someone's room, someone v drunk came out the loo- "Oh hey! I met you at cindys, what's your name again?" "Errrrrrrrrrrr.... john" ( note to self, hmmmm) " oh cool, I'll catch you later mate see you in cindies!" I lurk another few minutes, he comes out of friends room ( party is going on) "Oh hey! Whats your name again?" "errrrr tom" neighbours come out "is that The Lumbering Ninja?" "yes" "The Lumbering Ninja?" "yes" so I throw a rubber pig at him. " I'm not The Lumbering Ninja" he shows me ID, great.....
Curses, these scoundrels spend all their time either away from their residences or refusing to come out of them.
Navigating a maze-like building with a horse was never going to be easy.
Having gotten through the coded door with a smile and a charming lie, I
attempted to find the right room. After a tricky moment with the lift, and
trying to follow doors which weren't numbered in sequence, I stumbled
across the one.
A narrow corridor led to my objective; hardly advantageous ground. While I
stood, wondering what approach to take, by chance Argon
walked out of the very lift that had caused me such consternation, speaking
to someone on the phone! Whether she did not guess my purpose, or if she
had abandoned herself to the onset of death, I do not know. I only know
that once again, my noble steed's hooves are red and bloody, and he eats
well tonight on flesh.
I was just killed. By Otto Chriek. I was having a nap, they knocked (I think - I was dreaming) opened the door and sprayed me with water. The lights were off and I was in my pyjamas and it took me a while to come to. I didn't have my glasses on so I didn't see them, also it was dark. Anyway my heart was beating about a billion miles an hour, I think I yelled out - they were all very nice about it but I did hear them cackling down the corridor after they left.
Everyone's guilty of SOMETHING. You just have to dig deep enough to find out what. SHLUF turned out to be guilty of sleeping peacefully in his own room. Woulda thought Otto would know better than to let him scream like that, but then, he's one of the Watch now. Miscreants have reacted worse just seeing Nobby Nobbs's face...
Due to depression caused by inexplicably rude comments posted BieberHaterz on my YouTube videos, I had been unable to go about my usual business of murdering people with my pop songs and so been declared incompetent. As I returned to my room, I noticed an innocuous individual waiting by the main door. Perhaps he was a belieber looking for Somebody To Love? Baby, I get that a lot! Unfortunately, like my forerunner (the less talented artist) John Lennon, my life was cut short and My World faded away as my 'fan' took their duties a little too seriously. U Smile if you want to, but as far as I'm concerned the world has just lost a white Michael Jackson.
I got killed by Vlad today.
I also got a biscuit.
Loathsome Lemon
At around 5.30 Chocolate Biscuit ventured forth with Ballrooms On Mars to see if anyone was feeling hungry at that hour. This pair, as unlikely a combination as a white chocolate digestive, travelled to visit CylonSeven. Sadly he didn't want a chocolate biscuit, or a Chocolate Biscuit for that matter. After this, Chocolate Biscuit and Ballrooms On Mars went to see if either Zeno or Subject Twelve could be tempted by the delights of dancing or the simple joy of a ginger nut. Perhaps it could be that around food time is not when people like to dance or eat biscuits...
Today at 13:10 my attempt to hunt down Uncle Fester ended fatally for me as I got stabbed in the chest
REPORT LOG
MISSION OBJECTIVE: UNSUCCESSFUL
CURRENT STATUS: DECEASED
FURTHER DETAIL: KILLER WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN
COMMUNICATION TERMINATED
At around 16:00 today I tried to find Subject Twelve, but found only his locked door and a sign saying "RIP Stephen", and something about his friends betraying him. Not wanting to cause a scene, I decided not to batter down the door but instead creep away, still hungry. I'll have to find a suitable meal elsewhere it seems...
This Ferruginous Pygmy Owl's binocular vision is disappointing him! He flew out from his roost at 4pm and sought the living-quarters of one Uncle Fester, in the dense urban woods of Cambridge. Perching strategically near the foe's abode, he watched long and starily and fluffed up his feathers and looked an owly feathery picture of innocence. Unfortunately said ragamuffin made no appearance, and yawning the little owl, gave in and returned to roost, as it was getting dark. Yes, I am a diurnal owl; that is quite so.
Please can players note that Police can not simply punish players for bearing like Assassins can. However, countering an attempt on your life is still acceptable.
Spent the afternoon on assassins business with Kippers by Post, with my
first target, Captain Stabby in but unwilling to open the door. Unwilling to
hang around when we had already alerted him to our presence we made our way
to [COLLEGE-REDACTED] to hunt Carrot. A pleasant chat in
the courtyard by his staircase (not quite the Riesenrad but one has to make
do) was cut short when we observed a neighbour entering. We reached his
door but knocking produced no response and we detected no signs of life
within. After a brief pause in the gyp room (the state of which moved my
companion to remark 'This is definitely a boy's kitchen') a neighbour
kindly informed us he was away for the weekend).
It being time for dinner we parted ways and I was sitting peacefully in my
room in at around half eight, when a knock came. Preparing my weapons I
moved towards the door.
'Who is it?'
'Is Imogen in?'
'Yes, what do you want?'
'I just want to ask her about something.'
'That's a really rubbish line.'
'I know.'
Opening the door a crack I began firing blindly round the corner,
unfortunately my assailant hit me first, though I think I probably got a
few shots in after that. Ah well, it's like I always say, the dead are
happier dead. They don't miss much here, poor devils.
I came for Velijan Effendi tonight. Under cover of darkness and a fine mist of rain I slunk, slinkily, to his hideout. His pleasant pyjama-clad cohabitant answered the door to me. I fed her a line about having some item to return to him; she allowed me over the threshold and directed me to my prey. I knocked thrice upon his chamber door, but received no answer. So I lurked. Either he is cautious indeed, or was in fact not in. It was futile to remain: I slipped quietly out and returned home.
Sophie Evingar and Katie Vann have resigned from the game.
A mysterious person reports:
I would like to place A Bounty, of A Music CD, to be awarded to the
first player to make a kill with a Supermassive Black Hole, represented
by the Muse song of that name in some fashion. The Umpire may decide
details of permissible kill methods.
UMPIRICAL NOTE:
Okay then. To kill with a 'Supermassive Black Hole', you must use it under the same conditions as a boulder or safe.
It must be completely black- painted or otherwise
Must be bigger than the size of a regular football
Must be roughly spherical
Oh and obviously labelled 'Supermassive Black Hole'.
Also, the Umpire wants pics of the Black Hole- doing so would merit a free pseudonym ;)
I went in search of Dr. Facilier at [LECTURE-SITE-REDACTED] today, but my information about which lecture he was going to be in was obviously flawed.. so I went back to his house and knocked, and waited a while, and knocked again, and waited a while. Then I waited a while.
Went looking for CylonSeven and LHOII - Deceased. They were both out. Lurking just isn't the same without Harry Lime.
Vimes sighed. CylonSeven seemed to take it so well, it almost felt like a
misdemeanour. Leaving the Mended Drum in company like that was
tantamount to showing one's silhouette in a back alley in The Shades:
your life expectancy resembled that of someone trying to outsmart the
Patrician in a game of chess. He might have let it slip, but then, the
scoundrel *had* shot him in the arm with A gender neutral anagram of "we take"'s weapon whilst
under the protection of Blind Io. And then, to add insult to injury,
stolen his balls. And no Vimes worth his salt let a man get away with
stealing his balls.
Meanwhile, a voice next to CylonSeven said, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO TO GARD-
ER- DIBBLER'S A LAST TIME? I HEAR THE FOOD IS TO DIE FOR. INTERPRET THAT
AS YOU WILL...
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