The Assassins' Guild - Week 1 News

Killed Chris Greer with a bang-kill outside his room (hairdryer)

Alas, my initiation into the Assassin's Guild has not gone as one might have hoped! Despite sneaking past locked doors and armed Porters with my two dastardly accomplices, my potential victim (Didn't submit a pseudonym) was nowhere to be found. I shall have to return another day...

Emerging from the Haven of safety that I call my room, I traipsed down to the strange new land of [COLLEGE-REDACTED], a land of strangely twisting paths and locked doors on the outside of buildings. After thousands of years of searching (or five minutes, whichever is shorter), I finally glanced up my target's name, carved into the very wall of the building. Standing with baited breath before his great door, I nervously waited for news of my presence to reach his room. He emerged, unaware of my nefarious intent, and made the foolish decision of opening the door and confirming his identity. At the sight of my trusty weapon his eyes filled with terror and he attempted to banish me before I could enter, but my arm was too quick and I christened my blade with blood.

Hit befel in the dayes of Arthur when he was kynge of all Englond / that a grete darkness fell vpon the cytee of Grant bridge / And as kynge Arthur sat at Camelot ther cam vnto hym newe tydings / that a grete manye asassynes were entrid in to the cytee / and slewe many lordes and comyns / So on the morne the kynge departed with suche felauship as he hadde / And he herd a voyse say / Arthur kynge thow must not bern and slee clene afore the / For it is not mete for a kynge so ful of Chyualrye to slee all in hys path / Thow must ouercome thy enemyes on þe felde of batail / thurgh the noble prowesse of thy self

So be it said kynge Arthur / Firste shall I ride to [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] to mete with Kingy in a fayre feld/ And as he rode he chaunced to mete his syster Morgan le Fay / Do not use thy enchauntments vpon me sayd Arthur / Nay sayd Morgan le Fay for I honoure ye truely / I wyll ride with yow in this quest /Very well sayd kynge Arthur

Thenne they came to [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] and the pauelion of Kingy / Arthur bade hym open his doore and as god wold he did so / Arthur loosed ij boltes at hym but dyd not slee hym / Allas said Arthur for now this knyghte wyst that I have com to hym / Let us nowe ride to [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] to fynde Wichita / And they rode to the place aboue sayd / But it was a stronge Castel suche that neyther Arthurs prowesse / nor Morgans enchauntment cold not breke it

Very well sayd Arthur / I must assay another day to slee these miscreaunts / and seke gods blissing in my quest

As of 18:30, Jonathan (Jonny) Lloyd from [COLLEGE-REDACTED] has been taken care of by way of cardboard knife.

Attempted kill on Your Supervisor by the 'ring bell, hide, hope he comes our'. Came out too late, he was on other side of closed door. Might have seen me? He asked who was there: had no answer. Left

At 1100 hours this morning I, TiddlyTom, took the life of Andrew Rumbol. After a quick Facebook stalk last night of Andrew's page which contained his timetable, which happened to be similar to mine, I took a copy of his picture to aid identification. On leaving the [LECTURE-REDACTED] this morning I spotted Andrew and made my attack on [ROAD-REDACTED] using a (pen) knife.

Just killed Timothy May of [COLLEGE-REDACTED]. On the information of another unwary [COLLEGE-REDACTED]ian, I tracked down Tim after spending a while suspecting every [HAIRCOLOUR-REDACTED] person who walked out of the [SUBJECT-REDACTED] library, and eliminated him with a knife outside a lecture theatre. Uninventive, but effective. Actually, embarrassed and excited by the novelty of the experience, I discussed the kill at length with both victim and everyone in the vicinity, so my days are probably numbered.

Today, i killed a man, did he deserve it, perhaps, did he expect it, never. At roughly two o'clock this afternoon Matthew Morgan was cruelly struck down. Betrayed by what he thought was a trustworthy friend i gained access to his homestay and while he was distracted by his own cunning plots i stormed his room, fighting my way past up to five bored looking bedders, to stab him in the heart, his last dying breaths uttered a statement that may be ingraved into my conciousness forever "what the fuck are you doing... oh... you bast.." his last musing before slipping into the void.

Facebook stalked to obtain a picture, course and subject of my pray, Jonathan Millican, who happened to do same course as me. Spotted target in leacture and made my attack on the way home, killing Jonathan with a (pen) knife at 1740 hours today.

Despite an unsuccessful first attempt at the life of my first target, I did successfully manage to obliterate Edward Kay-Coles from [COLLEGE-REDACTED]earlier this evening. A couple of friends and I went to [COLLEGE-REDACTED], and luckily one of my friends knew somebody there who could let us into the corridor.

One of my friends knocked on his door - he opened it up, and he immediately looked suspicious, half-hiding behind the door. I knew that if I didn't kill him then, I might not manage - I lunged for him, and he, prepared, dived into his room - followed by us. He managed to fend me off very well, until eventually he ended up in the corner defending himself with a rucksack. After an unsuccessful attempt at throwing my knife at him (he said he didn't feel it, so I agreed that we'd discount it), I eventually managed to stab him repeatedly several times in the chest and neck.

This early morning, I was woken by the sound of a strange knocking. Realising that this was not the result of last night's out, but rather of a mysterious stranger standing before my door, I prepared myself for the worst. Grabbing my beloved gun, I went to the door and tried to trap my opponent by shouting a sleepy "come in". Nothing happened so I opened the door quickly and shot whilst simultaneously a sword hit my right arm. I sprinted outside, killed an accomplice and advanced towards the stairs to make sure the mask-wearing villain was definitely put to rest. The only thing however, that became clear in the aftermath was that we both had committed deeds of such improbability that the encounter probably should belong to the realm of dreams from which the assassins had abducted me at this early hour. After all, we did not only strike simultaneously, but we also only hit each other's arm which rendered the following fight an event of high implausibility. Therefore, we shook our remaining hands and postponed the fight for a later day.

Unfortunately, I did not have cookies present, but then, given that I am still on her wanted list, this might have been a bit too premature, anyways.

After careful deception of a certain college's porters allowing my accomplice and myself entry into my target's accommodation at 6am, I carefully lay in wait for Commander Keen. However, after a good hour of him not turning up it was clear that action had to happen. A knock on the door from my accomplice woke him up, and as I crouched to the left of his door, it slowly openend. I thrust in my plastic sword only to be met with a jet of water, and i had to escape. He had shot too high above my head and in the confusion went for my accomplice while i legged it down the stairs. Result: he has lost his right hand, me my left. I'll have to make another attempt in the future.

I return.

After two days of laborious detective work, I successfully identified my target's appearance, subject, and year, and thanks to the good will of the Gods, he was doing the same course that I was! As we sat in our lecture I spotted him on the other side of the room, concentrating hard, completely oblivious to the fact that his time was running out, and as soon as the lecture ended I was out of my seat and in pursuit of my prey. I had already discovered that he was in possession of a bicycle, and so I followed him closely, waiting for the right moment to strike. As he bent down to unlock it, I decided that for him it was time for tubby bye byes, and I thrust my knife (pen) into his chest. Surviving assassins be warned, Tinky Winky has received his first taste of human blood, and he likes it.

In ma room chillin to some phat beatz, interrupted by a suspicious knock. Armed self, innocently shouted "come in!" and the victim opened the door. A fatal mistake.

I went to [COLLEGE-REDACTED] with Me to perform a simultaneous kill (the same target), wearing sunglasses, a red shawl over my hair and red leather gloves. The target wasn't there. We went to [DIFFERENT-COLLEGE-REDACTED] where Me attempted another kill. I tried my luck in [COLLEGE-REDACTED] again. The target was in his room and threw a fluffy penguin at me, but it wasn't a killer one. Then he tried the trick with the cardboard saying 'I'm not there'.... When I pretended I was gone, he came out to talk to Me and then I shot him with the nerf gun.

Using a friend from the same college as my victim to guide me to their room, I made my first attempt at around 1930 hours today. However, my target was not in her room, so I returned at 2000 hours. Having just knocked on their door, I hear the door to the block open, and turn around. My target spots me and turns and runs. I follow and when they get trapped at the door I make my bang kill with banana gun.

Yet another successful killing by Le Meurtrier. At approximately 20:27 this evening, after finding our way into [COLLEGE-REDACTED], I knocked on the door of Joshua Wooderson, and after verifying it was indeed him, killed him with a throwing knife... it took a moment before he realised what had happened.

Some strange figure came to my door, but sadly found it to be bulletproof.

I went hunting for 'Tis but a flesh wound' this evening, but his door seemed sufficient to protect him once I was reminded of the rules surrounding letterboxes. Alas. Next time he shall be mine.

At the tyme when the kynge Arthur dyd rvle all Englond from his castel at Camelot / hys sister Morgan le Fay was fvrther studiyng her art amung the tomes in Grant bridge / and she dyd heare of sum trecherus knytes aidyng those who dyd plot to userp the throune / So she sayd I wil practis my enchauntments and divyne who these men are who threten thys land / and for three dayes she did cast spelles and enchauntments and discoverd these traytors / At laste dyd she retvrne from the wyldness were she had practisd these enchantments / and as she rode back tou her castel she hapened upon oune of them / whose nayme was Mary Moo Cow / slopyng back to hys dwelling / but she hade no wepoun and wyshed to return and recouver her strength with meat and ayle / for she was passyng hungry / so she swore I shalle not reste untill thys villan is slayne at my hands / and the otheres also / Theyr tyme is short

An accomplice and I tracked down 42nd Pseudonym Invented By The Umpire to her room; unfortunately we were noticed, and she fled. We lay hidden waiting for her return, but she apparently deemed it too dangerous and took refuge elsewhere; we were forced to withdraw.

Tudor Balan killed in his room with nerf gun at 22.15 Sat evening. Katie Hocking killed in her apartment with nerf gun at 22.45 Sat evening.

As I was getting ready to head out of my room when I heard a knock at my door. I checked my peephole, only to find it obscured by a thumb (gave the game away really). I went and got a knife ready but when I returned to the door the corridor was empty. Feeling a little stupid that I had been so suspicious I complacently stepped out into the corridor. Luckily, I spied a figure peering out of my kitchen in the nick of time. He swung the door back revealing a gun, ready to shoot, but I was too quick for him with my knife, turning the tables on my attacker.

A weekend fieldtrip took Amelia Zoe Rowan and her colleagues away from the city to a site in the south of the country where some quite old pieces of stone make a slightly interesting pattern in a field. Against a backdrop of rolling chalk hills, curiously shaped trees and atmospheric cloud formations, a body was discovered in the late afternoon in the grass behind a large boulder, with a single bullet wound to the chest. A small group of sheep continued to munch disinterestedly nearby. Later, names were ticked off as the coach was boarded and it became apparent the company was short one member. Pablo was seen stowing away a gun, having cleaned it with care. Amelia has not been seen since. Rumour has it these events are correlated.

Today I visited Kate Champion and got a bang kill using my hastily improvised gun, when I realised I had left my weapons behind... she should check who it is before just blindly opening the door...

The Dead God's dreams coiled through the misty night, twisting their way towards [UNTRANSLATABLE-NAME-OF-COLLEGE], towards the home of Broi. Cthulhu's thoughts wandered the passageways of the forgotten building, finding its way to the room of its prey.
But Broi's mind was sealed shut. Cthulhu's presence may have disturbed his work, or caused anxiety to take root in the pit of his stomach, but his sanity remained intact.
It was no matter. The Dead God's dreams drifted onwards, turning instead towards the stars, ancient balls of burning fire, whose mysteries are known only to Cthulhu.

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn

Studied Morgan's timetable and lay in wait with long-suffering accomplice at 0815 this morning. Must have spooked him; he didn't show. My respect for my quarry, and indeed anyone who can play this game successfully, increases yet again.

Directly after my 9am lecture this morning, I met with a confidential source to try and uncover some useful information about one of my targets, but by a stroke of unbelievable good fortune, I learnt that he was right there, barely a few metres behind me! As I watched, he disappeared out of sight behind a container, presumably to retrieve a bike, conveniently concealing himself from the view of the countless onlookers who were milling about outside. Unbelievers may put such a magnificent chain of coincidences down to pure chance, but I instantly recognised the hand of the Great Baby Sun God at work. He was meant to die, and I was meant to kill him. I grabbed my trusty knife, still stained from the blood of my previous victim, and quickly dealt with him. Tinky Winky has claimed his next human.

Having sat through a whole lecture in her subject, I was not surprised that Caroline Clark needed several seconds to remember that she was mortal when I stabbed her at 11am on the way back.

My target: Alvo von Cossel. I entered the staircass, haunting music chimed from a piano, music which I quickly realised came from my target's bedroom. I strode in, gun in hand, and before the last note could stop he was already dead.

Earlier in the week, following an extremely tactless move of leaving my hit-list on a post-it on my desk, fellow assassin and associate Morgan discovered that we had a common target Cereal Killer. Yesterday afternoon we went forth on an adventure to smoke him out of his safe-house (except without smoke) (and it's not a house) (though it is quite safe). Alas, there was no sign of him. His neighbour claimed ignorance as to his whereabouts. As for us, the hunt continues. We will be back, and I will exact vegetable-themed destruction.

Today, the 24th of October, I water-pistoled The Umpire chose my pseudonym to great effect.

Being isolated from the news, and not realizing my target Matt Hinks was already dead, I cunningly lay in wait where I knew he should be, having already memorized the photo my agents had acquired. But it was (even more) futile; perhaps owing to his reduced state of life, or perhaps because my agents were not very good, he never appeared, and I am denied the chance to make the fatal blow.

Now I have to stalk new prey...

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

Earlier this evening I went in search of my first victim, Arjun Sajip. Arriving at [COLLEGE-REDACTED] I discovered that a seemingly impenetrable locked door lay between me and my target. I however was not going to return home empty handed and a through a quick bit of deception I managed to gain entrance via an unwitting accomplice. Moments later The Jack of Hearts answered his door to find the last thing he would ever see the barrel of my gun staring him in the face.

The first one was safely behind a locked gate, and despite walking past repeatedly, no one opened the gate for me to follow them in. Being unaware of any other way in, and having received too many odd looks, I moved on.

I then went to my second target's college, and managed to get into their staircase. It was eerily silent and every sound I made echoed, leaving me terrified they knew I was there. Hardly daring to walk on the creaky floor or to unzip my coat to pull out a weapon, I lurked outside their room for a bit, but they didn't come out. Eventually, with frazzled nerves, and a target who was most likely either simply not in or waiting to jump out and attack me any second, I decided discretion was the better part of valour and headed off to try the third college.

After a considerable walk, I arrived to find the gate locked, and no one to follow in. There was a porters' lodge, but the porters looked somewhat suspicious and it was by this point getting late (8:30pm or so) so I doubted I could get in unchallenged. Disappointed, not to mention hungry (dinner had been forgotten in the excitement of the hunt), I returned home unfulfilled, and with a renewed determination to try again another day.

At about 7 pm, Queenie set off from [COLLEGE-REDACTED] to [COLLEGE-REDACTED], to have a map drawn by the Porters there of where SkillzUpInThisExtra's room should be (This was deemed necessary as an attempt to find the address on the 22nd was unsuccessful) Armed with the map and a fake gun, Queenie arrived at the area indicated and parked her bike on the gravel of [HOUSE-REDACTED]. This turned out to be a non-student residence, and she left rather embarrassedly. After driving along the road several times and accosting strangers, Queenie waited outside one building she thought might be [BUILDING-REDACTED], but was unable to gain access. The target was, once again, not located.

I went as an accomplice to Joanna Lau on an assassination attempt at ~7:30 tonight.

Her target misdirected her by claiming to be someone else, and escaped into his room. His girlfriend then appeared, Your Mum made conversation with her to delay their [ACTIVITY-REDACTED], as revenge. Frustrated by her failure, Your Mumraised her weapon toward me, and was duly shot for her betrayal.