The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 NewsIt was a day of stasis in the war of the ring. I had sought to remain in my sanctuary, Imladris, waiting for the scourge of Angmar to descend upon the hidden valley where I would spring my trap. But the dark captains of Sauron in the North seem to be biding their time, waiting for the opportune moment, no matter how long that takes. So I sought the council of Elrond Half-Elven, and decided to scout out the wastelands of Arnor myself, searching for threats. I feared Iluvatar would strike me down soon for not doing my part in the Great War, for I had been labelled as incompetent. So I infiltrated not one but all three of my Orc targets' lairs. First I went to the stronghold known as [INCOMPREHESIBLE ELVISH], but failed to gain entrance to [INCOMPREHESIBLE ELVISH]'s abode. Then I went to [INCOMPREHESIBLE ELVISH] and [INCOMPREHESIBLE ELVISH] and managed to reach the thresholds of the rooms of [INCOMPREHESIBLE ELVISH] and [INCOMPREHESIBLE ELVISH] respectively, but neither of them were in.
Dismayed but not defeated, I returned to merry Rivendell for singing and feasting, and planning the next move against the forces of evil.
At 8:30 this morning I deciced to assist my friend, Gryph, in tracking down the elusive [REDACTED] of [REDACTED] college. Outside his residence we noticed a window left unlocked and ever so slightly open. A downstairs, cellar-kitchen window. An opportunity. We entered, silenty, ENSURING NOBODY, ASSASSIN OR NOT, SAW US AT ALL. We checked the intel again: room [REDACTED]. Upstairs. We knocked, and a bemused looking girl opened the door. Gryph stayed his trigger finger and we asked for the whereabouts of our target. "Oh, you want house number [REDACTED]. This is [REDACTED +/-1]," she says. Arse. Piss. Wrong bloody house! Nevermind. Outside again, and we manage to catch a glimpse of our target through the correct cellar-kitchen window. Did they just look at us? Maybe. Perhaps. Oh. No. They're looking right at us. Look calm.....
We loitered outside the house for a bit and left. All a bit silly really.
[Griph] and myself attempted to assassinate [REDACTED] inside their place of residence early this morning. Initially we had some confusion with house numbers, but we eventually glimpsed each other through a window. They would not be lured out.
Today I made an atempt on my target Jonathan Utterson, following him from his department lecture back home only to find he was already dead.
Popped off at [REDACTED] after my morning lecture to make an attempt. Located target's room, and was ready to pounce with my trusty knife but when I knocked there was no answer. Very sad. It's like my targets just don't want to meet me.
It was a beautiful Wednesday afternoon when Quokka and I agreed to go hunting incos. After brief deliberation - we first moved to the nearest college to look for [REDACTED]. However we found ourselves unable to navigate the maze that is [REDACTED] and moved on to [REDACTED] and Alex Fairclough. Quokka then realised his tenuous connection to a resident of the building and we were in. We knocked on his door and he answered with just his face exposed and the door as a shield. Quickly I saw this going south and hoped my team mate could get his gun in time. However a non participant quickly asked the target if he knew a certain someone in the building that she was visiting. He hesitated for a second and seeing no other opportunity I stabbed him in the face making my fifth kill of the game. This was highly serendipitous as I saw an RBG in the corpses' hand. Seeing as I laugh in the face of death, we moved on...
After a visit to [REDACTED] proved unyielding - Quokka's seemingly inexhaustible list of contacts could not get us in this time - we moved over to [REDACTED] to confront The "The". We moved to their staircase and I knocked on their door with Quokka baring a gun behind me. As it was opened opened, sanguineous dreams passed through my head, only to be replaced by actual blood from my chest as I was shot on sight by a semi auto NERF gun as soon as the door was opened making my third (and a half) death of the game. Fortunately my comrade managed to escape unhurt in a very dramatic fashion by narrowly evading gunfire on the staircase descent.
At 14:45 today two foolish assassins tried to kill me in my own room. I responded by pumping them full of nerf. [Well it's the only polite thing to do really... DH.]
A knock to the door, and a request to check out my room for next year's ballot put me on red alert straight away (it's only Michaelmas!). I grabbed my nerf gun, which was sitting on my desk waiting for action, and jumped into it. Opening the door revealed two guys, red shirt and grey shirt. Red was in front, Grey behind.
I immediately shot Red in the chest, having no clean shot of Grey. After a second of stunned silence, Red yelled "run away!" which they did (fight back at least, Grey). I continued to cast an unholy rain of nerf darts down on them as they fled down my staircase.
Obviously, Red's death was unquestionable but I leave it to Grey to be honest about whether he was truly hit or not.
Not incompetent, just patient.
Well, I missed the Incobash, so thought I'd enjoy my own smaller-scale, considerably less epic version. Accompanied by the Angelus, I set off on my eternal quest to transform living Assassins' game players into an eclectic collection of verse forms. This time, with a specific focus on Incompetents. And, erm, popular songs.
Bonnie Tyler, eat your heart out...
14:20 today:
Where have all the incos gone?
And where are all the gods?
Where's the streetwise Force of Police,
To fight the Wanted odds?
Isn't there a nerf gun?
Or a pen that's labelled knife?
Late at night, I toss and I turn
And I dream of assassin life!
[Bad Horse Chorus] I need a hero........[etc.]
We headed to [REDACTED]
Alex Fairclough we would find
Then we'd Incobash him quick
And hope he wouldn't mind...
Racing up the doorsteps
And rising with the stair,
He simply opened up the door -
So we stabbed him then, right there!
[Bad Horse Chorus] I need a hero........[etc.]
14:45 today:
Then we strolled across the town
Trying for another kill...
Would he open up the door,
And die, against his will?
Sam knocked first - but the target
Had a nerf-gun in his hand!
Sam got a bullet in the chest -
This was not what we had planned!
[CHORUS] I need a hero!
But I wasn't a hero, back then during the fight!
I turned and I ran, and I sprinted away
Down the staircase, in a terrified flight!
Quokka.
I stand here and wait
So eager to kill targets
But it's all in vain.
My prey is not home
How can I assassinate
Those that are not there?
This has occurred on
Four separate occasions:
What bad luck I have.
Bor-ed, bor-ed, bored
Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored
I am really bored.
Maybe the next time
A target will be present
When I come to kill.
Somewhere around 10pm-ish went through a couple incos.
[REDACTED] didn't open their door (the light was on) and [REDACTED] wasn't in their room.
invisibalkitty returns back to the shadow as the mystery continues. [Becuase staying in the shadows is definitely important for a cat that's invisible... DH.]
Last week some time I went to [REDACTED] to find Greg Harker (who is now Dead by other's hands..). Sneaking after someone else I proceeded to their accommodation block, whereupon I found it was solidly locked, with no-one around. Becoming increasingly freaked out by the plethora of cameras in that college (they really do have alot), and the general fear of being ambushed in enemy territory, I went back to my exit only find it had locked behind me... Eek. Luckily I managed to make my way through the fortress back to the main gate without incident, though unfortunately also without meeting my target.
This evening I stalked [REDACTED] for some while, but again no sign of Michael Warman, then into [REDACTED] to search the grounds and then find [REDACTED]'s Staircase, where I waited for around half an hour until finally someone came out - I went to ask them of whereabouts of [REDACTED], whereupon they ran away into another building.. Leading me to believe they were in fact my target, and deciding not to follow where they had the upper hand of home territory. Though of course they could have also just been late for somewhere..
Then I thought I'd consult the incompetence list, to find some possibly close targets, and went in search of Alex Fairclough in [REDACTED]. After a fair deal of waiting outside with no-one coming in or out, I thought to try and trick a fellow housemate via the buzzer into revealing his whereabouts, or even letting me in... Unfortunately they were too cunning/suspicious, and almost immediately accused me of being an assassin! The cheek. I pretended to leave in order that they might come out to explore, but none did and I headed back home to re-group.
I have just killed the incompetent Alex Allen who I spotted outside a lecture theater and then followed back almost all the way to [REDACTED]. I had to be certain it was her and when we passed [REDACTED] I could be sure, so I walked over and said, 'Alex?'. Her reaction prompted a stab in the back with a knife - a rather unfortunate way to go.
Upon finding out where my target was going to be today, I found myself plotting all the different ways I could kill him.
I could turn him into a flea, a harmless, little flea, and then I'd put that flea in a box, and then I'd put that box inside of another box, and then I'd mail that box to myself, and when it arrived... HAHAHAHA! ... I'd smash it with a HAMMER! [A Captain Hammer? DH.] It's brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, I tell you! Genius, I say!
Or, to save on postage, I could just shoot him as he comes out of lectures.
So that's what I did. A single rubber-band-round to the heart, and my mission was done. Much better than the flea thing.
I've been killed leaving a lecture, having had the misfortune to be made a target for someone else in my faculty (how he found out I did his subject, and who I was requires investigation to prevent future mishap in my next game (I suspect a combination of Facebook and my unwitting friends was responsible)). I was retrieving my bike when someone behind me said "Michael?", and, my mind on approaching someone else in a similar fashion (for honest reasons), I responded with "yes", immediately followed by "oh bother", as I realised why they wanted to know who I was, a suspicion confirmed as I turned and found a band gun pointed at me. Thinking that a bang-kill had just been made, I made no attempt to act, however they then shot me anyway, which was unfortunate, because I might have been able to do something had I not been under the impression I was dead. I suppose it's a lesson for next time; don't act dead until you're ACTUALY dead...
Evil (headless) Chicken
A tragic accident occured tonight as Chris Djali was brutally shot to pieces, believed to have been cleaning a gun of some sort. As he returned from his evening repast he went to his room and others on the staircase report seeing movement from the adjacent shower and then hearing gunshots. Police have laughed away the suspicions of murder. "We spoke extensively to a Fal Sename, someone who was quickly on the scene. Him being a crack shot he was easily able to ascertain that the victim shot himself. It is saddening, but not a murder."
Having spent the last few weeks checking behind every door, wall and piece of furniture for assassins I made a mistake. I let my tiredness get the better of me and started unlocking my door before even glancing into the shower. Before I could turn the key I felt an impact on my face accompanied by the unmistakable clicking of a rubber band gun. It was a shame - the weapon that took me down was the weapon of someone that expected to need rapid follow up shots, as opposed to the noble pursuit of a single, expertly placed hit.
Despite many visits to their room, [REDACTED]'s lone incompetent has been mysteriously absent at all times of the day -- obviously a very keen student, or daytime party-goer. I will continue to pursue a course of justice into the evening, but it looks like I'll need to strike tomorrow morning (assuming they survive the night).
Since the list of incompetents was released, I had been aware that there existed in my college people who it was my task to remove from said list. The first came easily within a few hours but this one was harder. He made a point of locking his door, he ignored when I knocked, here was someone not so easily lured in to a trap. Fortunately, it came to my attention that he would be hosting auditions for a play. This time when I knocked and he asked who I was, I had my answer ready: "I'm here to ask a couple of questions about your auditions, are you free for a chat?". He bid me to wait while he dressed (he had been in bed, I know he needed to die, but I still can't help but feel guilty about this) and when he opened the door I planted two shots squarely in his chest. Now he may sleep.
[For continued skillful and loyal service to the Bad Horse Chorus, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is promoted to Super-villain. DH.]
I wanted to get some blood on my hands, so I set off with Hands of Blue directed to [REDACTED]. It was very easy to get in, and we stood in front of the incompetent Valvopus's door. It was very difficult to get her out of her room; we fired some bullets, but it was clear we wouldn't kill her. So we changed our plan, and went to the maze that is [REDACTED], but our new inco wasn't in.
Desperate for a murder, we went to [REDACTED], to kill inco Alex Allen. We got into her room, left unlocked, and killed her as soon as she came back: but she had already been killed.
We changed plan again, and went to [REDACTED], to kill [REDACTED], on the inco list. In a resulting firefight with the wrong assassin, a rubber band hit me, while the poor innocent was almost killed by a nerf bullet in his head. I was dead already, and my faithful gun provided by my superefficient weapons dealer turned useless.
Tonight two assassins foolishly entered my halls while looking for a totally different target. This struck me as an excellent opportunity to redecorate the walls and floor. With their blood, of course. So while they were looking away from my door I quickly opened fire, four bullets flying in the air. They also tried to shoot but to no avail as most of their shots hit my door. Unfortunately only one of them was caressed by the cold touch of Death, the one that goes by the name of Heidigger. The other one escaped, for now, but his fate is sealed. [You can't even remember his name? You used to work for Blue Sun together! DH.]
There was a knock on my door, curious given that I wasn't expecting anybody. My enquiries regarding there identity was met by a tale of them delivering biscuits. Ha! A likely tale.
Through my peephole I could see two people but no weapons. Gun in hand I could have sprung out and killed them both viscously whilst laughing. But I'm not sure if that would be against the rules since I knew they were assassins there to kill me but was uncertain if they were bearing weapons. [It's a grey area, but if they are there to kill you, I won't penalise pre-emptive kills. DH.]
I decided to force their hand opening my door slightly and closing it. Definitely armed.
We exchanged a few rounds of fire but no one was hit. I considered leaving the relative safety of my doorway to get a better shot, but then with one either side of it that would have been a terrible mistake. Outnumbered, I decided my best option was to retreat back into my room and eat some actual biscuits whilst reloading my gun. It may be time to go hunt out some of my targets.
The hunted were evasive tonight, though we might pursue them.
Our night began with a tense firefight in a town of cats. Though we had planned to catch Valvopus unaware, she had barricaded herself into a dead end! After exchanging fire for a time, the stalemate grew, and we departed to hunt her another day...
Our second target, [REDACTED], had the good fortune to not be present when we arrived. Likewise, we left to hunt her another day.
We met false success on the quayside in our third target. Infiltrating the Alex's dwelling silently and stealthily, we quickly found her room, unlocked! And so we hid, and waited. Our wait was not long. Opening her door, and being caught unaware, she also caught our bullets! But to our dismay, we discovered we had murdered nothing more than a walking corpse [BRAINS! DH.]. We left, blood-thirst still not satiated.
Going in search of our next target, we found the corridor, the very room, of our target! As my... colleague... reached to knock, I glanced at the named doors. Our target's name was not among them. But it was too late! The assassin within, by no means incompetent, was upon us! Alessandro bore the full brunt of the onslaught unleashed - he took three rounds to the chest in quick succession. No time to help. I let off my quickest shot, only to see it miss by a hair and leave our assailant unscathed. Holstering our weapons, we briefly forsook our enmity to discuss the matter of the new corpse. A crowd of one had gathered, and so I quickly departed, dragging my dead assassin with me, hoping that the great doughnutty God [Um...? DH] would make his still heart beat again, as he had mine.
The hunt was over. We were unsuccessful. I lost a dear friend. Until next time, Hands of Blue.
Took one of the scouts on a mission of reconnaissance, searching the nearby towns for known ne'er-do-wells. Identified their last known location but could find no discernible trace. The streets were cramped and dark there, with many silent doors able to conceal all sorts of trouble. We did not linger lest we find more bloodshed than we had searched for. May return in the daylight, as much as a kingly schedule allows.
On what must be the sixth attempt at gaining access to the room, when
the lights are finally turned on, they were already prepared. My
attempt at delivering justice was thwarted by a Nerf gun. jehearo shall
live to tell the tale, for now, whilst I must join the fallen of the Bad
Horse Chorus. Alas, no sign of the attack animal...
Studious Quokka: turns up for a 9am lecture.
Polymath Quokka: turns up for a 9am lecture in a different Tripos.
Committed Quokka: turns up for a 9am lecture in a different Tripos, in order to assassinate a target.
Irritated Quokka: turns up for a 9am lecture in a different Tripos, in order to assassinate a target, who does not actually turn up for his own 9am lecture.
Silly Quokka: turns up for a 9am lecture in a different Tripos, in order to assassinate a target, who does not actually turn up for his own 9am lecture, but then Quokka finds the different-Tripos 9am lecture really interesting and decides to stay for the whole thing.
It's been a bizarre day.
Quokka.
The most challenging part of assassinating Stefan Bencik was not figuring out his subject, how to read that subject's timetables or find my way around the department (all of which were very straightforward), but figuring out what year he was in, which took me the better part of a week. Luckily the hypothesis I formed from observing a particular one of his Facebook friends was correct, and in between lectures I stopped by to find him (and several of his classmates) waiting to be let into their room.
As he was quite accessible, standing right next to the stairs, I managed to stab him with a pen labelled 'knife' (my paper knife having grown rather battered in the last week) and rather hurriedly tried to explain who I was before his class started. He was very understanding (polite corpses are the best corpses), and so my task accomplished, I sprinted down the stairs and into the sunset (and the cold and piles of dead leaves).
-Long John Silver
(I feel like once upon a time I intended to write my reports piratically. That didn't really happen).
Lost Immortal and I decided we would go and hunt an incompetent today and, after much information gathering, decided that we would go after Twm. We walked [REDACTED] and into his accommodation to see if he was in his room. After a knock at the door, we heard rustling, as though someone was in the room and prepared ourselves for a fightback. When a couple of minutes had passed, we realised that the door was not going to be answered, regardless of whether someone was in there or not. At this point, we thought it best to make a swift exit, only to walk past Twm on our way out. Lost Immortal promptly pulled a gun out of his bag and ran up behind Twm, shooting him twice in the back. I jogged over to congratulate Lost Immortal on a very discreet assassination and we merrily made our exit.
My friend DarkMavis and I decided we couldn't stand
having an incompetent living so close to us, that we decided to sort
this out. Meeting outside [REDACTED], he knew the layout much better then I, so led the way.
The layout of the building was quite confusing, trying to find the
correct room was a challenge, but fortunately, we got there in the end.
I knocked loudly, but there was no answer. Trying the door, it was
locked. Although we were sure we heard noises coming from his room. So
we left carefully, not knowing if he was going to get us on the way out.
Upon leaving [REDACTED], we saw someone who looked like our target walking
past us. Not entirely sure, we continued as we were. As he passed us, I
looked back. He had made an error only a true incompetent would. He
was wearing a Hoodie with his name on the back. At that point, I turned
and shot him with a rubber band gun.
As he died, his last words were "Are you police?".
No Twm, I'm not. Too bad you died before I could tell you that.
After bumping into an old friend who happens to go to the same college as one of my targets, I had the good fortune that she knew which courses he was taking. After looking up the timetable, and finding a photo of my target from a newspaper article, I turned up on Monday before one of his lectures, and waited. Alas, no person matching the photograph appeared. Undeterred, I returned on Wednesday....and Friday... so either he doesn't attend lectures, the photograph is miscaptioned, or my friend has betrayed me. I'm not sure which is more disturbing...
Walking back through peaceful [REDACTED], I heard running footsteps behind me. Turning before I even reached my knife, the swift two shots in my side and back put an end to my short life. As I lay there, my blood spreading into the flower-beds, I considered that maybe wearing a hoodie with my name prominently emblazoned on the back might have not been such a good idea...
Dear Dr H,
I killed today at around 7pm via water pistol. Victim was an assassin who came to my abode to gun me down, but I faked absence then shot him as he left.
Ninetails out.
Interdepartmental Memo
We have suffered a minor setback:
Subject designated 1337PKer attempted to gain entry to a target's residence, was unable to enter, and after 900 seconds left to pursue a secondary target. Upon leaving the residence, 1337PKer was shot by the target from an elevated position with a small firearm.
The corpse has been recovered and autopsied. Genetic engineers have already begun work and it is hoped that the next clone will be ready and sufficiently upgraded come January of the next year.
Remember, each failed subject is a stepping stone on the path to perfection. This one showed promise. Let the next realise its full potential.
Sincerely,
[REDACTED]
CEO, [REDACTED]
One of the [college redacted] incompetents loudly announced their incompetent status at dinner this evening in front of four other assassins. The others were feeling some college/subject loyalty but I personally didn't know him (unfortunately - he seems lovely). Most importantly it just so happens that some of our fellow assassins in other colleges have such TERRIBLE geography skills that when they've been out to the college to try and assassinate this guy, they turn up outside my room instead (apparently, the different name outside the door is not enough of a give-away).
So, after a quick evaluation of college-loyalty vs fewer people annoying my corridor-mates at midnight, total college-betrayal vs self-preservation, I took the latter options. When Steve Hodgson went to put his tray away, I mercilessly stabbed him with my trusty pencil-knife.
I regret to inform you that the Rooster has killed an innocent. I got an unexpected ring at my buzzer, and thought it was an assassin. I shot before I looked and now have discovered the person I shot was indeed innocent. A grave miscalculation on my part.
Fortune smiled upon me today: I cautiously approached my target's staircase, prepared for a long stake-out, only to find him leaving his room, washing up in tow. I didn't hesitate.
A troubling development. Enemies are camped near the fortress, and although their competence is rumoured to be shaky, a good king never believes evidence without sufficient citations. A small team of scouts and I investigated yesterday but were unable to locate either of the foes. Today I took only Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave Sir Robin [You really need to sort your story out with your allies before reporting... DH.], and did indeed locate our target, but she was holed up carefully and warily (She even refused Robin's generous offer of free bullets) - too risky to attack such a position head-on, we retreated to our red haven, planning our next move.
Last night we (King Mickey, Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave Sir Robin, The Slightly Rabid Gerbil and I) headed out for a couple of incos we'd located. We first visited [REDACTED], and after talking our way into the target building we were foiled by an ingenious stratagem of absence. Not (too) disheartened we moved on to [REDACTED], where we were thwarted by closed windows and locked doors.
I decided to end my hiatus of hiding in my hideyhole and made a trip to the wonderful college of [REDACTED]. My unsuspecting target was protected by a layer of security - the notorious key-card door. Fortunately an unsuspecting wanderer, a fellow member of the college let me in after a few charming words. I snuck through into what seemed like a female-only dorm and found another unsuspecting helper who indeed was not my target. Being weary I questioned her about the location of my target and she led me there.
My target's name was etched on the door. I rapped three hard knocks on the door, ready to pounce. She opened and bam! my shuriken hit her straight in the chest. Captain Paws was no more.
I went to [REDACTED]'s room in an attempt to kill him. I knocked on the door but nobody answered. I then proceeded to [REDACTED]'s room in [REDACTED], but was unable to gain entrance to his hallway.
A secret mission back to [REDACTED]. Third time lucky? Unfortunately not. After 20 desperate, competence seeking minutes of loitering around [REDACTED]'s room, and asking if anyone knew where he was, I abandoned my task.
Shortly after my recently-posted adventure, I descended upon [REDACTED] in search of [REDACTED]. [REDACTED], room [REDACTED]. Easy enough to find but couldn't convince [REDACTED] to leave the room.
Blast.
[Yes. A good sized blast would definitely solve the door problem; pity it's against the rules... DH.]
And the killing spree continues. Laika fell after I silently waited in the shadows for the time to strike.
Jehearo.
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