The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 News

Students of Cambridge are greatly sheltered, and there is nothing interesting to say about their execution.

It was a cold Friday night when I decided to go hunting for another assassin on my hit list. I ventured out with 2 other assassins for back up as the area my target lived in was rife with incompetents so we could get a few extra kills in whilst we were there. Whilst I was walking to the rendezvous, I walked past someone going in the other direction. They must have been using an illusion spell as it was only once I was at my destination that the haze wore off and I realised I had passed my target! Alas, I decided I could kill some incos whilst waiting for my target to hopefully return.

I sneaked into one of the staircases with a fellow assassin and we split up as they had a target on that staircase. I went for the other incompetent assassin. I could clearly see the light filtering through under their door so I knew that my search would not be in vain. I tried their door but it was locked, so I knocked and slid to the side of the door. They foolishly answered the door unarmed and a quick shot to the chest took care of them. I timed my kill to be around 5:45pm.

Sadly, I did not see my real target come back so we left to attack incos at other colleges. No more kills were made after leaving, and I returned back to the original location to see if my target had returned.

He had not.

He may have foiled me once, but he will not escape again!

I loved Natassia McAdams more than I could possibly say. She was a real artistic girl, sensitive, a painter. But she was always trying to find herself. She'd go out every night looking for herself and on the way she found Ruth, Gladys, Rosmary and Irving. I guess you could say we broke up because of artist differences. She saw herself as alive... and I saw her dead.

Followed a helpful young man into the house of the victim. Door of victim's room was unlocked, so I made him about 5 times as "holy" (using a gun).

Atlas's hunt had proved unsuccessful as his targets were safe in the comfort of somewhere that Atlas wasn't.

I have been successful in hunting down my target, Isar Bhattacharjee. On seeing him approach, I was able to take out my gun and shoot him straight between the eyes.

Target eliminated.

Yours truly,

Black Widow

Crushed: adj 1. Squashed by extreme pressure, such as when a 5,973,600 trillion kg planet lands on you. 2. Feeling of deflation due to no longer being in the game.

Shot Filip Gokstorp to the background of Rammstein.

He had it coming, he had it coming, he had it coming all along. If you'd have been there, if you'd have heard it, now would you tell me that I was wrong?

This evening I knocked on the door of one Rover. His friend saved his life (but not his arm) by opening the door and taking the first bullet for him. A rather casual corridor standoff ensued in which bullets and friendly chit-chat were exchanged to no avail.

Umpire's Note: This friend unknowingly opened the door expecting it to be a friend he has summoned, and therefore does not count as an accomplice as he acted of his own volition.

Was in my room with another assassin and a non-player. Upon the knock at my door, the foolish non opened it before we could stop him, and was instantly killed. In the scramble for weapons I lost my right arm to a particularly good rubber band shot, and was forced to return fire with only my left. Neither I nor the other assassin managed to hit my assailant, who had cleverly concealed themselves behind a fire door.

Eventually we retreated, as I have no real ability to unjam a semiautomatic weapon with only my left hand in any reasonable time, and we were unable to finish the job from our positions. Despite threats that they 'have nowhere really to go', the assassin was nowhere to be seen when we emerged ten minutes later. During this time I had fashioned a particularly crude dagger, a remarkable feat given the tragic loss of my arm, for fear of attack in a projectileless zone. Searches of the local area revealed no hiding would-be murderers, so we headed for Hall in the hope that they would not follow. During Hall I spotted a local inco, who I decided to test my new dagger on. Yup, that works! One inco down. Clearly frightened by my ability to stab defenceless and unprepared people, my assassin was not seen again that night.

Had a gentlemen's agreement with a fellow assassin friend of mine that neither of us would attempt to go for each other's lives should one become incompetent. He became incompetent and didn't think it important to tell me.

So I shot him and he's dead now. I'm sure he learnt a valuable lesson in not trusting friends.

She was crazy, and she kept on screaming "You've been screwing the milkman." Then she ran into my knife. She ran into my knife ten times.

They thought they could kill me. Fools. Did they not realise that with a horcrux already under my control I could not be so easily removed. After floating bodiless for a week I found a weak willed Trinmo whose mind looked easy to control. Handsome too. Shortly after taking over his body I spotted a cunning target who had hidden their identity very well. My sources revealed however that she had fabulous ginger hair, which was her undoing. The moment she headed for her staircase I sprang out and killed her, infusing part of my soul into my lecture diary in the process. Immortality awaits.

Let's see... turning softbodies into hardened killing machines, page seventy... ah! How tall are you, test subject? Four-nine? I was unaware they stacked human waste that high. Wait, that doesn't make any sense. Human waste is stacked at a median hight of seven feet five inches, and I AM aware of it. Test subject, I've been told that your mother Mmm. Well that's just digusting. Do the training. While I look at this. Oh, you died. Well, it was scientific at least...

It was up to Atlas to teach Az the true consequences of being incompetent.

While searching for more hallowed Cambridge artifacts, long after the sun had set and acromantula and flesh eating slugs slithered out of cindies, I encountered someone who had thwarted me on three separate occasions. I killed him swiftly then and there, pausing only to pour another part of my soul into a yellow plastic shotglass. There is only one who I truly fear now.

"Are you dead yet?" I asked. He didn't reply at first, instead he simply looked down at the knife now protruding from his chest.

"No," he eventually replied.

"Well, you are now," I returned, stabbing him in the forehead for good measure.

"Oh, right. I was going to kill someone from my college later and everything. Are you going to report this?"

"Errrr...yeah, okay."

Preparing for my evening meal, as, however mysterious one might be, every assassin must eat. Someone casually entered through the front door. Someone I didn't recognise. Very amiably, they asked for me by name. I hesitated for a second, then my brain evaluated the information. I know the face of everyone who lives here, and having referred to me by name means they do not know me, yet know my name. That being done, my mind was made up, and I lunged forwards, my knife appearing in my hands as I deftly drew it from my pocket. Before the assailant had a chance to react, my knife was through his heart. I left the body, noting the gun hidden underneath his coat, and slunk away back behind locked doors. CONTRACT TERMINATED.