The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News

Demon's Run. The day that River Song abandons the Doctor, he finds out who she is and the day when he stops playing in the shadows and the 'good man' goes to war. But it's not just the day that he finds out who she is; it's the day he starts to realise what he is. It's the day the Doctor starts to realise his true potential. As a strategist, a warrior, a leader, and ultimately as a conqueror. He's appalled now, but he'll learn.
I digress. My plans move on apace and with my previous foe fallen at the hand of a trusted friend it is time to exert a little influence closer to home. The situation on Gallifrey is complicated; with our Lord President in seemingly indefinite closed session with the High Council, it is the General who now seems to be giving the orders. Those two will soon be on a collision course and I need to be in position before that happens.
To this end I took a squad of the remaining Chancellory Guard to have Brotherson, one of the General's men (and one of my most vocal opponents) brought for trial from his Academy on charges of treason under the emergency powers issued by Rassilon before the end of the war. We were unable to locate him at his lodgings and I was considering my options when I heard flowing water nearby. Suspecting that he might be bathing, I decided it prudent to wait and ordered the squad to made themselves inconspicuous. As he returned to his lodgings, I confronted him. He drew a weapon and I was forced to defend myself, - at least that is what the record will state. The guards were bribed and will not say anything for fear of this coming to light, and with everything still in chaos from the war nobody will have the time to question the lack of a weapon on his body, why I had to shoot him three times - enough to interrupt his regeneration cycle, or why he was shot in the back.

The Valeyard,
Court Prosecutor by appointment of The High Council of the Time Lords of Gallifrey

I had thpent the week trying to puthle out the meaning of Hilman'th litht, but today it wath time for my nathonal therthithe, when athathinth and thellthwordth are called to armth to thlaughter the unworthy. I armed mythelf with a thniper rifle and my thword, Thurprithing Thalutathonth. I altho carried a Throngarm in my ruckthack. I arrithed at the meeting plathe, ready for blood. Then I thaw the targeth: all of them on Hilman'th litht. It appearth the authoritieth with to thut hith game down the hard way. I kept quiet, thith could be dangerouth.

We thplit into two groupth. I wath athigned to patrol the outer-thentral areath. Firtht we went to my home college, in thearch of Duck Duck Duck Gauth. I wath forthed to open the doorth, letht my cother be blown. I went along, ath rumour had it he wath attending a local tournament and not in. Rumour wath true. We protheeding wetht, but no one wath in in the nectht college either. At the nectht college after that, a thentry ethcorted uth outthide. We protheeded thimilarly for a while: out, already dead (My college mother, whom I wath readily betraying) out, out. Ethentually our patrol dethided enough wath enough, tho we returned home.

Ath I reached my home college, I dithcovered the other patrol. Duck Duck Duck Gauth wath no more apparently. Thtill thirthty for blood, I joined their group. Ath we crothed the road in thearch of murder, a hailthtorm of terror thwept down upon uth. We all ran for cother, and waited it out. We then went looking for the target. Ath with all the otherth, they weren't in. At thith point the group thplit. Thome went home, or thet forth for the outer collegeth. A group of three of uth retrathed earlier footthtepth.

Thith time there wath more luck. The firtht target wath not in, but arrithed ath we were leathing. Ath I thtood thumbling with my rifle, my two companionth thot him in a double team attack. Unfortunately there wath no more acthon, ath everyone elthe wath out, or had a thentry to guard them. I had thome fun though, and I will thtrike out again thoon.

Strike while the ironâ??s hot, my Mother always said. So, in short, thatâ??s just what I did, hot off the heels of my first blood. I bludgeoned him over the head with his own newspaper and shot him whilst his friends looked on. Silly journalist; the guy had it coming...

Hey. We're Zam and Zem. And because we love you amazing, blood-thirsty aliens out there so much, we thought we'd get you a present. Oh don't worry, it's only small, it's not much. IT'S ONLY ANOTHER EPISODE OF SURVIVAL OF THE FAAAAAAAAAAAASTEST! The only show on Naughty Dog 1 that brings you death, violence and destruction - guaranteed! We've got so many blood and guts, we're banned in over 40 different systems! That's right! 40!

Stop blabbing, you warty cretin, they didn't tune in to listen to you! Oh, sorry, Zam, got a bit excited there! Yes well, see that it doesn't happen again - let's get straight to the action. And already in our cameras you can see your champion, the noble Nitros Oxide! Let's just quickly go over to Zim with some stats. Well, Zam, his current record is 4520 wins for and *cough*1 loss*cough. Curse that insufferable bandicoot. Well that's quite enough of that - you guys know what we do now!

SPIN. THE. WHEEL! Yes, let's find out which lucky - or should I say, loathsome, eh, Zem - planet is up for potential parking-lot-isation tonight. Here we go! *spins wheel* We have..oh my Velo, it's [COLLEGE-PLANET REDACTED]! A dodgy past with modern tendencies, but then we like that here on Survival of the Fastest. Maybe tonight the challenger will have a chance, Zem! *dead silence* *entire studio breaks out into laughter* Hahahaha, good one, Zam - he's as dead as Tiny Tiger's credibility.

Oh, shhh, shh, Oxide's approaching the planet now! The register challenger for this planet is none other than Louis Colquhoun, gentleman thief and generic gangster - reminds me quite a lot of that beast Pinstripe, doesn't he? Now you say it, Zam, yes he does! Oh, wow! Colquhoun takes the challenge openly! Now that's what we like to see, not like that wimp [WIMP REDACTED] last week.

And they're lining up on the start line! Oxide plumping for the hoverbike this time around, not exactly common, but interesting choice. Colquhoun going for his standard classic race car - it is a thing of beauty, isn't it, Zem? Sure is - shame it's going to be destroyed! Never mind that now, the flag is up! It's 3! 2! 1! GOOOOOOOOOOOOO! And it's Colquhoun who takes the lead! Wow - surely not - not now - not Oxide? He's got a plan up his exhaust, you'll see, Zem. And what's this? He's taking something out from his kart! It's some kind of remote! He's laughing? Oxide, you're so far behind, you don't have time for this! And...

BOOOOOOOOOM.

OH MY VELO HE'S JUST BLOWN UP COLQUHOUN'S CART THIS IS INSANE LOOK AT THE CARNAGE I'M NOT SURE I'M GOING TO BE ABLE TO TAKE IT AHHH

*cuts to technical difficulties sign*

Well, after that excitement, which you'll all see again in our recap show - Survival of the Fastest: Fastester {Translator's note: Gasmoxian is really hard, guys}, we have to cut there. I've been Zam! And he's been Zem! You mean you've been Zem? Have I?

*silence*

Hail Emperor Velo the 27th!

Son, let me tell you a thing or two about hunting.
The worst enemy of a hunter is a locked door. A locked door is like a salad. Obstructive and unwanted.
So, when I went out hunting last night (10pm) with my assistant, (I would like to point out that I am entitled to an assistant, and so by not taking one up to this point have saved the taxpayer over $10.) to seek out the incompetent Dante, who lives literally just across the road in -college withheld-, we were presented with 3 locked doors in order to get into the college, and once we were inside (through a delivery entrance) this mire of poor access. We made it by innocuously following a resident into the ground floor of the target's building, but no-one was around to let us into the staircase necessary to reach the target.

Man, I hate dealing with the public.
Today's moustache level: fruity.

Today I went hunting again. 4 targets total, a mix of personal and incos, and a very poor result. The first, I could not gain access to the staircase. The second, after I had painstakingly staked out the room for 10 minutes, a neighbour told me that the target was jail-breaking. The third, I thought I saw, near their room, but they disappeared before I could get an ID. The fourth, I thought would be a cinch. As I climbed the stairs, I heard the target joking with a friend about how undefended they were against assassins! Perfect. As I approached the room, I realised from the conversation volume that the target was standing in or near their doorway. So, I chose my moment, and emerged, killer penguin in hand. Drat! I realised just as I looked around the corner, I had timed it just wrong, and sure enough, the target had just enough time to ensure my flung penguin bounced off the door.


***************
We end with, an URGENT MESSAGE FOR Silent Sniper. As you may know, I do believe animals to be good only for two things: food, and sport. However, Oliver, my companion "Killer attack penguin", was, and I hope is, certainly very good at hunting.
He has been in my care for a good 7 years now.

----I KNOW YOU HAVE MY PENGUIN----

I realise, as a hostage of conflict, he is yours by rights, however, I ask, as a matter of assassins' honour, that you please do not hurt him. He only wanted to hurt you out of a sense of unwavering loyalty to his owner.
I would be willing to post ransom of chocolate or similar, at your preference, in exchange for his return.
If you find this acceptable, please contact me (via the umpire), and we can arrange a time, place, and flavour.
Alternatively if you wish to use him for the duration of the game, I'm sure he will be quite a complicit assistant.


However, please do not think I am done here. I will find you, again, and I will kill you.

I was enjoying the atmosphere of the college bar when I saw my college dad across the room. It struck me that just that morning I had seen his name on the incompetence list, and the idea of shooting him came to mind, an easy way to extend my incompetence deadline. I acted on this sudden bloodlust, and shot him through the head with the gun I keep tucked into the pocket of my jacket. Both my college sister and mother watched on in horror, and I began to feel that this time I may have gone to far - I had torn apart our college family, and Zach, on his death bed, disowned me. In many ways I regret this kill and I hope that our relationship may be rekindled in the next life! Sorry Dad!

Mad Jack

I wish I could pretend to have deduced the times at which my target went shopping. Sadly, I must confess that this was a chance encounter.
I stood in the queue of Sainsbury's, topping up on milk, sugar and (of course) the finest Earl Grey tea bags, when I looked across to the neighbouring queue and who should be there but the target whom I had been researching the day before.
Master of subtlety I am not: I froze and remarked to my friend that I had just made this discovery. I told him my intent and asked him to watch my items. He simply replied "make it so." Waiting until my dear target had his hands sufficiently full of shopping to reduce the chance of him being able to pull a weapon on me, I stood on the other side of his checkout. As he passed I called his name just to confirm his identity, then drew my knife. His reactions were fast, I give him credit there, for he nearly evaded the blade, but I just about made contact, then made a second stab for good measure. I hope he wasn't looking forward to whatever food he had purchased.
In his dying moments, my killer expressed relief that his ordeal was over, then slipped out of consciousness. I returned to my shopping, then went home for a celebratory mug.

After a brutal, and merciless campaign of disappointment, today I was finally able to secure the return of my beloved penguin.
It was a drawn-out affair, as my enthusiastic accomplice, April Ludgate and I staked out the grounds of the target's accomadation, waiting to see if they would emerge. After a while, they had not and we were really, really cold, so we checked inside. The target was not in. Darn! So, we headed back home, but just as we were descending the stairs we came face to face with the target. I think she recognised me from a previous attempt, but then WHAM. Ron Swanson is quick on the draw. After this, her phantom was kind enough to return my penguin to me.


April Ludgate reports:

Hello. My name is April Ludgate and I am currently Ron Swanson's assistant. Although I'm not being paid for this role, I'm participating as I love games that turn people against each other.
I was left to stand outside the target's staircase with instructions to ring when she emerged. However, she did not. It was very cold, and I was about to give up when Ron reappeared and suggested we try knocking on her door.
This was clearly a ridiculous strategy, but I did not object as I did not care. The target was not in and we retreated, only to find her climbing up the stairs behind us. After a shocked pause, Ron shot her. He claims that it was a good shot, but the truth is he got lucky.
It was disappointing that we found the target, as I wanted her to win so his happiness would go away. But maybe I will get some compensation for being such a good hostage negotiator (which was not in the internship job description).

{translated from the original Gasmoxian} *Error* report withheld untill further notice

When I was walking through -College withheld-, I saw one of my targets in -court withheld-. I had to use this opportunity, especially since my lightsaber was craving its weekly portion of blood; so I approached the unsuspecting Tiberius II straight away, stabbed him and quickly walked away, afraid of other assassins that might have seen me.

They say Camping is for noobs, and as of today, I could start to see where this is coming from.

After spending good best part of an hour camping the hideout of little fella, the target failed to show up both in the morning (when one would assume assassins to start thinking about going to lectures) and in the afternoon (at the time, when lunch hall was open for all those who are hungry).

This guy is clearly an extremely keen assassin with several lookouts, or an English student who lives purely on pot noodles......

I looked up some incompetents on facebook and linkedin in the morning so I was over the moon when I saw one of them in -College withheld-. I had to seize this chance and so I stuck my lightsaber in his back.

The -area withheld- gets rather crowded after lectures. The presence of a corpse in the road today (still bleeding from a gunshot wound) didn't make the traffic flow any quicker, that's for certain. Dreadfully sorry about that.