The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 NewsBaker Street Irregular and Professor Moriarty the Pot Plant lurk outside a suspicious building, attempting to deduce which entrance QuasiPseudonym would enter from. Judging the one most likely to be the criminal's entrance, they waited there for several minutes, until espying their target. An unfortunate misfire stumped Professor Moriarty's first attempt, but as QuasiPseudonym fumbled for a weapon, Baker Street Irregular was there with the long, cuddly arm of the law.
Having escaped the incobash yesterday, I was ambushed and slaughtered by a group of assassins at 11.00 this morning, mere moments before I reached the sanctuary of my lecture hall. Goodbye, cruel world.
Mwahahaha, the game is afoot. *twirls moustache malevolently*
On receiving my target, I found that he did my subject. My cunning accomplice told him after a lecture that someone wanted to meet him. Sadly for him, I wasn't someone who Thomas Boby wanted to meet, as he discovered on being stabbed with a Bull's Horn.
I was just lured into a trap by one of my friends as I left my lecture and ruthlessly killed with a bull horn.
John Grenfell-Shaw was my first ever kill last term, so I was shocked to discover that not only had he outlasted me this game, but he had done it without even trying hard enough to become competent! The only way to restore my honour was to take him out myself as soon as possible in my reincarnation as a policeman. This I did today at 11:05. I waited outside the lecture I knew he would attend with my nerf gun concealed in my bag. As I saw him approach I tried my best to look innocent until he came close enough that escape would be nigh on impossible. When I judged the moment right I swiftly approached with my gun and fired a single shot into his chest.
I'm dead. Properly, this time. I was killed by somebody I didn't recognise on my way to lectures at pretty close to point blank range with some kind of weapon which shot little red thingies, who then clarified that I was indeed on the incompetence list. The amount of a fight I didn't quite get round to putting up probably testifies to this.
A knock at the door.
"Who is it?"
No reply.
Handle is tried.
Another knock at the door.
Load gun.
Open door.
Shoot civilian.
Damn.
Nicholas Caldwell is now wanted.
On seeing a friend on the inco list and conveniently having a rehearsal slot after him, I hung around the theatre early and shot him with a cardboard gun as he went past. (He debates this and despite me saying 'bang', maintains I didn't touch him. However he made no attempt to run away and I would say it was a pretty fair kill.)
An attempt was made on my life today at Queens' College, in the Fitzpatrick Hall Theatre. I heard the word "bang" uttered from a distance that could not have been accurate enough to effect a definite kill as no projectile was fired. Additionally, the attempt was made within the Out of Bounds area that is the Fitzpatrick Hall Theatre during technical stage preparations for this week's show. Tiny will have to try harder next time.
A couple of notes here. Firstly, theatres are only out of bounds during and immediately before/after performances, so this attempt was indeed in bounds. Since we couldn't reach a consensus on how far Tiny was from I know what you did last term when the attempt was made (the weapon must be within 1 metre of the target for a bang kill to count), I've gone for the compromise of disallowing the kill, but giving Tiny competence anyway.
Please try and resolve such disputes on the spot in future. I can't make accurate decisions when it's just one person's word against another's.
It was 23:20 as Julianna Yau was climbing up the stairs without a single suspicion of someone lurking in the shadows next to her door. Just few seconds of wait and I stabbed a knife in her throat. Darkness of the coming midnight was the witness of this relentless murder and Julianna's last breath...
Alas! Random Strategy has clearly been insufficiently random! Indeed, he has been too lazy to think up new silly weapons, and as a result, has been using a waterpistol to perform his kills. This was surely doomed to failure: waterpistols are not good weapons! Chainspoons are clearly far superior and he should have been using one of them instead. And so, due to this horrific lack of randomness and silly weaponry, it so happened that, after shooting a Jonathan Bootle, he discovered that there were actually two serpents instead of one, and was promptly killed by a Solid Snake (Serpens Corpus).
Day 1 on wanted list.
Approaching lectures.
Random Strategy waits.
But not for me.
For Black Mamba (Dendroaspis polylepis).
My companion.
A foolish incompetent.
Random Strategy draws his gun.
He fires.
Black Mamba (Dendroaspis polylepis) is hit, dead.
Still bearing, Random Strategy is licit.
My knife flies true.
Threat eliminated.
Whilst walking out of a lecture, I heard the suspicious sound of an incompetent. I turned round, called his name, and nerfed Phanos Anastasiou in the chest.
The other day the person sitting next to me in lecture commented on the gun in my jacket, we got talking and discovered each other to both be assassins. He offered a name exchange which I accepted after his assurances that he'd seen all his targets online (the internet doesn't know much about me). As I said my name I could see the shock in his eyes. He paused for a moment then said that he must've found someone else of the same name, trustworthy and kind soul that he was, he offered to not attempt to kill me until the next day in return for having accidentally tricked my name out of me. I accepted, grateful of his offer.
We had another lecture today the next morning, one too which I came heavily armed. I him out across the room and after lecture quickly walked to attempt to position myself behind him as he left the room. It quickly became apparent that he'd seen me and was trying the same thing. He left the room by one door and I by another, and after a short look I decided he must of run away.
I was returning to my bike when I saw him, waiting. I drew my gun as he drew his and we both began to fire, bullets raining upon each other and each of us saved only by lightning fast reactions and nimble dodging. As the fight drew on I started to panic, no gun lasts forever and my ammunition was running low. I called out to him from behind my shelter and we entered negotiations. Once the adrenaline haze of the fight cleared we noticed that whilst we were both intact the same could not be said for the surrounding wildlife or architecture, such a mass of destruction surrounded us that it was a miracle no innocent was killed.
Another meeting of this nature, we concluded, would surely destroy the whole department, killing thousands of innocent lives. Such a thing would cost us our honour and was a risk we could not take. Instead then, we entered into a pact to let each other live - for now at least.
On this morn, Storm:Wolf engaged The Chocolatier in an epic firefight. Storm:Wolf has had adaptive surgery giving him the use of a grafted scorpion tail on which is mounted a 4 Giga Amp rail gun, capable of achieving Mach 12 muzzle velocities.
As the very essence of bravery, Storm:Wolf opened
Curse that annoyingly placed "send" button.
"After this morning's meals going uneaten, Storm:Wolf was hungry. His hunger, many days mature, overpowered him to the point where he was forced to eat something precious to him:
Storm:Wolf entered his college's library and stalked, with silent tread, to the seat of an Inco. As he approached, Storm:Wolf unsheathed a Silenced Pistol (fitted to his new scorpion tail) and shot his Inco pack-mate, and college wife, Mr Brown in the back of the head. As the life fluttered from her eyes, Storm:Wolf whispered tenderly in her ear: "Happy Valentines Day".
Storm:Wolf is still hungry..."
I shall repeat:
Libraries are out of bounds!
Abra abra ABRA abra ABRA ABRA!
Abra abra Nicholas Caldwell abra.
Abra abra.
3 hours later.
I emerge.
Outside, Gregory (Greg) Weir waits.
A small-town cop.
Probably a family man.
I hate making orphans.
But he blocked my path.
He had to go.
I, Manfred Von Karma, made an attempt on the life of Stabby Jack today. The scoundrel was in a labs session at the hour of 13.00 and I awaited him outside the Department armed with my trusty rapier. However, I could not distingunish him from his comrades, meaning one of three things: 1. He looks very different to his Facebook picture now 2. He spotted me and escaped in another direction 3. I simply have a lack of prowess at identification.
With Plan A foiled, Plan B was put into motion. I made a frankly amateur attack on the villain Nathaniel Williams around 13.30, but he would not emerge from his room. So, competence gained, I slunk back to my chambers in order to do battle against the forces of evil another day. Justice was not done.
My nemesis Baker Street Irregular has been defeated! No more shall my growing plans be cut down by this fiend, the weaker of the two of us has been weeded out and now my schemes may bear fruit.
Of course, she leaves no blood on me. All I did was plant the suggestion of killing her in Team Rocket Boss Giovanni. Then as Baker Street Irregular is walking up [STREET-REDACTED] the pushing-up-daisies Abra shoots across to distract her while Giovanni creeps up behind. She didn't twig what was happening until she felt the knife stick in her ribs. She tried to stem the blood loss but it was no use.
*twirls moustache*
I'm going to let this one slide, but dead players should avoid getting involved in assassin-related events. Dead men don't talk, or in this case, dead men don't shoot stuff to cause a distraction.
On a marathon trip round several colleges, mostly resulting in people either being obviously not in or too noobish to come out and fight assassins who asked them to (was it the lack of a 'please', Ornate Flying Snake (Chrysopelea ornata)?) or even in one case already dead (suspiciously mobile for a corpse, to my mind, Mr Brown), Meetball and I were at the point of despairing that all we would achieve this evening was extended competence until we managed to track down Thomas Ruddle to his girlfriend's room, and intruded as politely as possible on a Valentine's evening for just long enough to make him into a corpse.
I am no more. The work of fools, cowards and traitors has undone me. The devilish tacticallemon and another assassin were instructed by my once-trusted, now-reviled roommate that I would be with my ladyfriend this St. Valentine's Day and he even gave details as to her room's whereabouts. These wastrels then proceeded to knock on my ladyfriend's door at around the hour of 10pm. She (foolishly) let them in, forgetting my double life as an assassin, and I quickly considered the situation. A cry of "No!" and a desperate grab for my pistol was far too late as the bullets had found their mark.
Let us just say that the culprits will not get away scot-free. Justice will be done. (In fact, it has been done for two of the people responsible for my death)
On leaving lectures I and The Unknowing Accomplice got to chatting about the difficulties inherent in ridding oneself of incompetence. This I aptly demonstrated by my prioritizeing of witty banter over efficient murder. The exchange: "how long do you think you'll last?" "I imagine longer than you." *lunge* gave my adversary all the warning he needed to wrestle the knife from my hands. Both parties live to kill another day.
Nathaniel Williams proved his incompetence by failing to kill an unarmed target (The Unknowing Accomplice) and even lost his knife in the process. But The Unknowing Accomplice is a merciful chap, and left him to flee with all that remained of his dignity. Maybe next time eh?
Day 2.
Visit Ornate Flying Snake (Chrysopelea ornata).
To check their vital status.
A sentry.
Bottom floor.
Warns them of my approach.
They are ready.
Knife in hand...
Bested, by another serpent.
Disappointing.
I'm too old for this.
My earpiece sounds:
"Snake."
"Snake?"
"SNAAAAAAKE!!"
The Umpire remarks that eating pizza in the auditorium does not constitute "backstage preparation".
This statement is true to the best of my knowledge and my belief and I make it
knowing that, if tendered in evidence, I shall be liable for prosecution if I
have wilfully stated in it anything which I know to be false, or do not believe
to be true.
Team Rocket Pokemon Tranquill 15/02/2012
At 18:15 on the 15th of February 2012, I was eating in civilian dress in
Queens' buttery, when I saw Joseph (Joey) Nelson, d.o.b. [redacted], of [redacted].
Joseph (Joey) Nelson entered with a tray of food and proceeded to seat himself two
seats to the left of myself, with [redacted] between us. Joseph (Joey) Nelson entered
into a conversation with myself and others in the vicinity, in the course of
which he stated that he was an assassin, and a member of the list of
incompetents. At 18:30, whilst Joseph (Joey) Nelson was still engaged in the process
of eating, I took my knife and, reaching behind the person between us, stabbed
Joseph (Joey) Nelson. Emitting a cry of shock and disbelief, Joseph (Joey) Nelson fell
forwards into his stir fry, dead.
I, The Poison Dart wish to report my unfortunate Death. Having been extremely busy since the start of the game, I finally found a free night this Wednesday, and I was all ready with my Nerf Gun to stalk that night and remove my incompetance.
This was until 6:35 pm, when Tranquill, whom I had been happily chatting to for 25 minutes, suddenly leaned over with a Knife-labelled Pen, and ended my (admittedly useless so far) Lent-life.
I congratulate him on his stealth (I didn't even know he was playing the Game) but it didn't make it any less painful. May my next term's life be more useful and productive.
A few days ago Viktor Konstantinov was called out of retirement as last
year's Bulgarian representative on Trinity's overseas welfare committee to
meet Stefan Petrov, a budding young mind from Bulgaria wondering what life
was like for a foreign national at Cambridge. As he waited he was
approached by Stefan's family friend from Cambridge who chatted to him
while they waited for Stefan to arrive. A few meters away, "Eye of the
Tiger" began to play, sadly the wind blew the sound away giving Viktor no
warning before a piano was dropped out of the sky and landed on his head.
In his dying moments it was revealed to Viktor that Stefan (with whom he
and others had been exchanging emails in a combination of Bulgarian and
English) was nothing more than a figment of my chocolatey imagination. He
then gave the name of a Target, I guess he'll be next.
It was me dropping the piano, Golbat impersonating Stefan's family friend
and Meowth playing the background music.
The Chocolatier gets an extra pseudonym for "epic music".
Fuelled with blood lust from our previous kill, Golbat, The Chocolatier, and I headed to St Catherine's College to try and settle a score with Caspian Merlin, someone we had tried and failed to kill last term. We asked an accomplice to knock on his door for us, but it seemed to not work. As the accomplice left though, Caspian nervously poked his head around his door and when I saw him see me, I fired a shot, even though the opening in the door was too small for me to have a hope of hitting him. We waited outside his door for what must have been 15 to 20 minutes, and engaged him in conversation. At one point, Caspian tried to take us off guard and swiftly opened his door and fired wildly, knocking off Golbat's arm in the process. We returned fire though and he quickly retreated back into his room. The Chocolatier then had to leave, and a little while later Golbat left, but I decided to wait around the corner for a few more minutes just in case. My plan paid off, and after a couple of minutes I heard his door open and footsteps come towards me. As he came into view I fired a shot at point blank range. I wasn't sure if it had hit his arm or his body, but he seemed to think he was dead so I was feeling content with my kill. Later though, presumably as the shock wore off, he realised that he was very much alive and that he had merely been hit in the hand. We stared at each other for a few seconds unsure what was going to happen next, then I reached for my knives (having fired my only shot) and he ran. An epic chase out of the college and down King's Parade ensued, past hordes of bemused tourists. At one point I came so close I could almost touch him with my knife, but he stayed just out of reach. As we turned down Benet Street, I reloaded my gun while running, and did a last sprint burst to narrow the distance between us. I fired my shot and it hit him squarely in the back. There was no doubt this time, he was dead.
A knock on my door this afternoon announced the arrival of three
highly-trained assassins lurking outside my humble abode. A quick peek
through the spyhole announced that they were, indeed, strangers - and at
that, strangers who had shown up in a similar capacity last term, when they
tried to trick me into opening the door by getting my confused neighbour to
knock. This time, they did try to tell me that it was regarding the JCR
elections, but I saw through that easily.
We must have chatted for about half an hour, through the closed door - they
were Police, and eventually came to terms with the fact that I wasn't going
to open up any time soon. This is when I opened the door and managed to
shoot one of their hands - before closing it immediately. A short time
later, one of them left, and some time after that, I overheard the
remaining two planning to make their exit through separate doors, in order
that I be able to kill only one of them.
As this was happening, I had been exchanging text messages with a friend
who was waiting outside my block, and who would attempt to follow them
inconspicuously as they left, giving me time to catch up and then kill
them. She reported that one had emerged, but she lost sight of him - I
assumed that the other one had left through the other exit, so I grabbed my
deadly weapon, and set off in hot pursuit. Out of my door, along the
corridor, and... BANG. My phone crashed to the ground, and all that
remained of my hand was a bloody mess on the end of my arm, spurting blood
in all directions.
I made a dash for it, out of the building, past my friend who had been
keeping lookout, out of the college and then halfway along a nearby street,
before I heard the clattering of my keys which had fallen onto the ground,
at the same time as I was shot in the back by my pursuer. I was pronounced
dead at 16:23 on the 16th February 2012.
After a friendly chat with Viktor's corpse we moved on to knock on a few
inco doors whilst we were out, none responded to our pleas for attention
until we came to the door of Caspian Merlin. By pure luck we ran into a
friend of Golbat's who was running for JCR at Caspian's college, and so he
knocked for us and attempted to tempt him out for a chat about college
politics. Caspian was not be fooled however and said he'd just talk to him
later.
Knowing the the jig was up we revealed ourselves as the same Assassins that
came to visit him last term with a similar attempt. After a while he tried
a surprise attack by quickly opening the door, shooting and then closing
the door. He manage to remove one of Meowth arms but the rest of us were
unharmed. A little later I had to leave to meet someone and the other's
pretended to leave with me but secretly remained in waiting.
As I arrived at my destination a received a text telling me Caspian was no
more.
"Can't you recognise my face, is it hard to see? That Krazy who you
thought was dead: My brothers, is me" Joseph and his Technicolour dreamcoat.
At 09:30 did attempt to take the life of Krazy once again, sleep got in my
eyes and obscured the target.
The Book of Beginnings. Chapter 1: v16-21
Aeons passed in the glorious darkness created by not bringing light to the darkness. In his omnipotence Argod declared that light was forbidden, and in its place created semi-darkness. And the shining semi-darkness cut through the darkness. Able to see, Argod began His creation. Praise be to Argod!
Yesterday (17th February) at 22.35 I paid a little visit to my dear friend Jar Jar Binks. Sneaky he was. Did not open the door he... (Or maybe he just was not home :) ).
Next DJ Kakadu had to be, and ~23.55 I reached his lair, with my trusty dagger in the hand and a lot of courage I knocked and whispered come out, come out.. Meet your destiny!! From retrospect I start to think that might have scared him and force not to come out and not to meet his destiny :(
Storm:Wolf knows his prey.
Storm:Wolf stalks his prey.
Storm:Wolf hunts his prey.
Storm:Wolf finds his prey...
He rings,
He remains silent as his prey fearfully cries out in question,
He gets buzzed in,
He finds the door,
He knocks,
He fires,
Twice;
He hits,
twice;
Jack Brewster is dead! (Should have fired his water pistol a few times before opening his door, get the water in the mechanism...)
Storm:Wolf is still hungry...
At 12ish today I heard my doorbell ring. In a rare lapse of concentration I unthinkingly let the assassin into the building. In the few minutes before he got to my room I set about fuelling my weapon. Alas, when the time came for action, my water pistol failed me. In death's cold embrace I was glad to find out that the assassin to strike me down was the one who had playfully befriended me during lectures.
If there's one thing I cannot stand, it is incompetence. As such, when I discovered the existence of incompetent fools living so close to me I decided to do something about it. I took along with me an assistant in assassinating by the name of Abra. Silly squeaky thing, but rather useful for my plans.
We first visited Mr Pink at [COLLEGE-REDACTED], who immediately let us in. Clearly he did not think that a pot plant presented much danger. How wrong he was when he was shot in the head. Rosiefromqueens on the other hand was wise to my tricks and failed to fall for our ploy to make her leave her room with promises of cake. As for Jar Jar Binks, he wasn't even at home when we attempted to assassinate him. No matter, we shall murder him at a later point. Or not. For our last target was a far more cunning foe, and far wiser to the tricks that might be played by a pokemon and a pot plant. Abra opened the door to this fiend's room and attacked the one who opened the door (Roo), but unfortunately it was the wrong target and so our intended target then knew our purpose and slew Abra. Oh well. I appeared around the door, moustache twirling for I knew he did not suspect me of being there. I attacked and he fell down dead. "Aha! Victory is mine!" I thought. I felt a sudden spasm of pain shooting up one of my branches and looked down to see my leaves wilting where they had been touched by the weedkiller of his weapon. I will return one day, one day I shall grow back stronger than before. I will have my revenge! *sound as of a small pot plant shrivelling up and dying*
Gregory (Greg) Weir abra Emily Room abra abra. Abra [UNSPECIFIED ABRA] Benjamin Taylor, abra abra Emily abra. [UNSPECIFIED ABRA] abra abra, abra abra abra Rosiefromqueens. Abra "abra abra aaaaabraaaaaa," abra abra.
Abra abra Jar Jar Binks abra [UNSPECIFIED ABRA], abra abra.
Abra, abra [UNSPECIFIED ABRA] abra Craig Newbold. Gregory (Greg) Weir abra abra, abra Viktor Konstantinov, abra abra abra... Craig abra Greg, abra Emily abra Craig- abra abra Craig abra Emily, abra abra. Abra, abra abra, abra Emily abra.
Whilst peacefully chatting in my room with some friends, there was a knock on the door. Viktor Konstantinov got to the door first, and was greeted by a swift death. I responded quickly, readying my gun and firing at the two intruders before getting killed by a killer animal.
When the battle was over, 4 corpses lay on the ground - Mine, Viktor's, Emily Room's and Gregory (Greg) Weir's.
Unfortunately, I appear to have been killed.
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