Cloak & Dagger The Assassins' Guild - Week 1 News


Saturday, 17 October


[00:18 AM] A short game for Aloysius (Benedict McConnell), as Letisha Al-Sadd's knife flashes in the dark.

I was unfortunately assassinated in a brutal knife attack at 00:18 tonight by Letisha Al-Sadd.

Yours sadly,

Benedict McConnell


[08:30 AM] Poetry from The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons, to make up for a fruitless morning....

At early dawn, the Muse approached
And whispered in my ear,
"O idle, stupid, lazy roach,
Can you no longer hear!?

Remember the Assassins' Game,
Where bards go where they're willed
By powers above, to seek their fame,
And kill - or else be killed?

Awake, O fool! at crack of dawn
Yes, you are tired - I know it -
But stifle your pathetic yawn
And be a proper Poet!"

So I awoke, and went outside
My target's home, to stand:
I knew the place where they reside:
The Muse thus did command!

But hours went by, and fled, and flew
As, in my heart, I paled:
I was not strong enough, I knew,
To wait - no, I had failed.

The church-bells tolled, then tolled again -
In laughter at my fate.
I knew my target well, but then
I lacked the strength to wait!

And so, this paltry rhyme I'll use
With no joy or pretence.
Instead, I'll pray my dreaded Muse
Will grant some Competence.


[11:00 AM] Scarlet watches the weaponsmakers, but no chance to show them his work.

Scarlet reports:

I was sitting in my lecture this morning and noticed several people in the process of manufacturing weapons. I hoped that some would forget the rules and walk out still holding them but alas they all stowed them away and I was unable to push any of them out of any windows (not that there were any convenient ones to hand).


[11:30 AM] Illegal fire in a dining hall leaves Jon Snow alive but scarred, and Dr McKill-kill wanted!

Dr McKill-kill reports:

Unsuspecting, the target thought that brunch would allow him to enjoy himself in the company of friends. Little did he know that this display of laxity would prove fatal. Dr McKill-kill openly unleashed a barrage of rounds into his target's chest, and his target fell into his meal to the echo of the gunshots bouncing around the hall. In a rare admission to his emotions, Dr McKill-kill noted that his target hadn't even started on his bacon. It was a sad day, but assassins cannot allow their hearts to interfere with their mission.

Umpire's addition: Dining halls are no-projectile. The kill has been annulled, and Dr McKill-kill made Wanted for his transgression.


[13:15 PM] Double kill outside the lecture hall, as Hat (Ben Morley) makes a sneaky play, only to be stabbed by I Grew Up Milky, who also then stabbed ----- ----------- (James Brotherston) for drawing his knife.

Hat reports:

I walked back from lectures with people including James Brotherston and I Grew Up Milky, and another probably-assassin.

I fired a deliberately missed warning shot between the heads of James and the other guy to encourage them to pull out weapons, so that I could then shoot them for bearing. (Ethically sketchy, but legally watertight).

However just after I fired my warning shot I was stabbed by a non-member (but known to us) of the [THERE ARE/WERE NO MAFIAS IN CAMBRIDGE], who also stabbed James (he had foolishly drawn a knife in the resulting confusion).

No-one in that mess was anyone else's target.

Ben (Hat)

I Grew Up Milky reports:

I was walking home from lectures with a few friends today, when one of them (Ben) let me in on a plan of his. He would shoot - and miss! - at fellow assassin James, who would then go for his weapon. He would then be armed, and thus a legal target, so Ben could actually shoot him. (Ben, it is worth pointing out, did not know I was an assassin.)

He pulls the gun, shoots, misses. I pull a knife and stab Ben - he's bearing arms, after all. James misses this, lunges forward and stabs Ben, at which point I stab him (he's bearing too). Me and the present non-assassin are very much amused; the dead slightly less so. Then they all went back to Catz, and I headed back to [college redacted] to plot my next move.

----- ----------- reports:

On way back from lectures with Ben Morley, I Grew Up Milky, and another person whose name escapes me at the minute, when Morley foolishly tries to force me to draw a weapon (by firing at me) and is promptly stabbed by I Grew Up Milky, I, not realising he has been stabbed, draw a weapon and am then killed as well by I Grew Up Milky, all in the space of a few seconds.


[16:00 PM] Vengeance is swift, as Jon Snow kills Dr McKill-kill (Ross Duncan) with the old classic.

Jon Snow reports:

dear umpire, I realised that I am in fact still alive after being shot by Ross Duncan earlier as the rules state that projectiles cannot be used in a place where you eat (I was eating in the dining hall during the attack). I then proceeded to wait outside his room and upon his return to the dorms I shot him in the chest (heart) from around 10cm. I exclaimed bang upon firing my banana labelled 'gun'.

Umpire's addition - A reminder, make sure that Bang Kills are surprise only. This sounds like it was fine, and since by some accounts Ross Duncan actually shot himself in the chest earlier (during the illicit attack) and thus had already managed to kill himself during combat, I feel no need to triple check.

Dr McKill-kill reports:

Dear Umpire

I, Ross Duncan, was killed this afternoon by Jon Snow (my target) with a banana labelled 'gun' from a distance of 10cm.

Sad times,
Ross Duncan

Umpire's addition - a reminder that occasionally, you get a chance to find out who your assassins are, such as if they fail to kill you. Your assassins are also licit targets for you, like in this case. (Though admittedly, at the time Ross Duncan was also Wanted, so licit for everyone.)


[17:00 PM] The sword is mightier than the pen, as No-one stabs Ink (Marcell Fekete) in the side.

No-one reports:

I, No-one killed Marcell Fekete with a knife. We attended [redacted] together and upon leaving I stabbed him in the side of the torso. We spoke and confirmed the outcome.


[18:10 PM] Chills go down Ice-Grimm's spine as he narrowly escapes.

Ice-Grimm reports:

I went to [College redacted] to find Makemake. I managed to get to his room and (foolishly) knocked on his door. He was clever, didn't open the door wide enough for me to make an attack. I had to lie that I was looking for 'Tom' (he didn't seem to believe in my story). It was awkward, but I managed to get out of [college] safely.


[19:40 PM] Duffed up duo, The Gentleman and friend, spill the blood of Chocolate Milk (Shyam Dhokia)

The Gentleman reports:

Dear Umpire, Esq.

Men of action such as we are ill-inclined towards physical violence. Nevertheless, in the pursuit of that most noble of arts, which is to say, the game of wits and courage which is Assassination, even the most gentlemanly must stoop to mild murder in this most dangerous of games.

So it was, that on this evening marked otherwise only by light precipitation, my lady friend and I set off, with gown and suit and gun and knife, to the abode of our assigned mark. Our most pleasant walk to our destination was picturesque, with admirable views of the superior architecture which befits this area of the metropolis which is Cambridge. On arriving at the looming building where we were bid go, a rapid ascent of stairs took us to a rather fine, but locked, wooden door. Finding our tokens of entry to be of no use in this particular sit, we elected to abide for a time, lest a route to our goal presented itself.

Fortune smiled upon us this eve, for within but a few minutes of arrival, an oblivious flatmate of our Man presented himself, and on the exchange of but a few paltry pleasantries, granted us access to the inner sanctum. Great was our joy, but concealed it did we nevertheless, for the most challenging task was yet to come.

A brief rap on the door resulted in a shifting from within. A few seconds later, the face of our Target smiled at us through a chink between his bedroom door and the doorframe. We began our subterfuge, by claiming that a formal had been arranged, at which his attendance was required. To enhance our story, careful canvassing of a conk had revealed that his college mother was named Yasmin, and this was further dropped into the conversation. To our dismay, our target remained unconvinced (possibly because his college mother was not, indeed, Yasmin), and the door further to convey his disbelief. "Come on, what's going on here?" dropped from his lips, and I took this to be my cokum, and conveyed him to Heaven with a quick stab to the chest. "This means I'm dead, doesn't it..." rasped from the corpse as he collapsed to the floor.

We took our leave of the sorry place, handing the corpse four Hobnobs for the ferryman (who I am given to understand has been wildly undercut by more modern paddlesteamers for taking people across the river Charon), and exchanging grateful remarks with his flatmate, who had allowed this deed to occur.

Kind regards, and with the fondest hopes that further objects of this most manly of arts will be presented forthwith,

The Gentleman

Chocolate Milk reports:

Hey Snow White,

The Gentleman and an accomplice just murdered me, at approximately 19:30 on 17th of October. They appeared at my door in full formal dress, under the guise of inviting me to a formal. The Gentleman then stabbed me with a knife that looked suspiciously like a pen, and I promptly bled out and died. They were extremely kind to offer me a posthumous gift of delicious hobnob biscuits, and I commend them on their efforts and their baking skills.

Best Wishes,
Chocolate Milk aka Shyam Dhokia

Sunday, 18 October


[00:30 AM] A disappointing lack of carrot-based kills, as Carrot Man, The Superhero Whose Superpower Is Seeing In The Dark Except Not Because Carrots Don't Really Help With That Instead He Just Hits People With Carrots (Joseph Scott) is eliminated early by Dmitri Ivanov.

Carrot Man, The Superhero Whose Superpower Is Seeing In The Dark Except Not Because Carrots Don't Really Help With That Instead He Just Hits People With Carrots reports:

I, the almighty Carrot Man, was slowly making my way back home after a night of ill-advised mixing of multicoloured beverages. On my way, I was informed by allies at my hideout that they had let some unsavoury folk in for - in their words - "the lulz". I slowed down my return home (not a particularly hard task given my inebriated state at the time) and arrived on the street where my hideout is located after being given the all-clear from my allies.

As I approached the door I felt a shot hit my right arm. To their credit, my persistent assailants had waited outside for about 10 minutes after leaving our hideout. With my left arm I reach for my trusty carrot, at which point I realised that I hadn't brought my trusty carrot-knife with me for fear of practicality in carrying it around various bars and also looking weird to freshers I was trying to recruit to my society of justice! I fumbled at the hideout's card lock system, but in my debilitated state could not quite work out where the reader was. I honourably accepted my defeat and stumbled into my hideout where my fellows filled me in on what had happened.

But fear not, citizens! Carrot Man shall return to protect you from the wanted and incompetent, and my carrots shall taste the blood of my killers if they ever step out of the bounds of the law!

Dmitri Ivanov reports:

I, Dmitri Ivanov located and killed my target Joseph Scott at approximately 12.30am on 17/10/2015. After initially waiting inside his house at [redacted] for approximately half an hour, I left under the assumption that he was elsewhere. However on the way home, I caught sight of someone passing by who I recognised to be Joseph Scott. I followed him back to [still redacted] where, as he was about to open the door, I took a shot at him hitting his arm, and then another in the chest to ensure the kill.


[01:30 AM] Suspicious notes? Pontius Pilate is most displeased....

Pontius Pilate reports:

I weturned tonight to find that I have a pwoblem - a most thweatening note was left outside my door. This is outwageous. I WILL NOT BE WIDICULED IN SUCH A MANNER. Then again it could be one of my fwiends, shall we say, wagging me.


Umpire's addition - While little notes are fine, please do keep them unthreatening. The last thing we want is someone getting upset, or a bedder alerting some authorities, because of someone stupidly writing 'I will stab you' or something like that. Lighthearted cheery notes lamenting your target's absence, or loving renditions of the entire Team Rocket theme in several instalments, are much more ok.


[11:10 AM] More poetry, still nothing. If The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons ever kills, we may get a whole ode...

The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons reports:

I lurked my target's buttery -
A massive waste of time.
The disrespect she shows, you see,
For Brunch - that's her real crime!
But soon I know she'll punished be
For this strange paradigm...


(Umpire's addition - as this is now your second decent attempt, some competence has been granted...)


[13:00 PM] Join late, leave early for Six Hours Late, And Not Even A Pseudonym (Peter Adefioye) as Homocidal Fairytale lives up to what they think their name says.

Homocidal Fairytale reports:

I Homocidal Fairytale found my Target's room door was unlocked while he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when I snuck open the door and shot him from behind on the back fatally with a bang weapon. This occurred at about 13:00 as I didn't have a time keeping device with me at the moment.


[13:25 PM] Strange shenanigans - Sirrah forced to knife an innocent, entirely reasonably.

Sirrah reports:

At 1.25 today, at a society/sports team meeting, a friend of mine walked up and shot me with a nerf gun. Knowing this was not accepted in the rules, I later stabbed him in the back with a pen labelled 'knife', only to be informed that he is not in fact an assassin, but rather he had been sent by another assassin to induce more paranoia into my day.

Best wishes,

Sirrah

Umpire's lengthy addition:

Here is what transpired. Non-assassin A sends non-assassin B after Sirrah, to shoot him at an OoB meeting, in order to induce paranoia into Sirrah. Sirrah takes a revenge kill on B once things are no longer OoB, assuming B to be his assassin. B promptly informs him that B is not playing, and that he was sent by A.

This is not okay.

Had A been an assassin in this game, they would have gone Very Wanted, for getting an Accomplice killed, for arming an Accomplice, and for having that Accomplice attempt a kill. All illegal. Since A is not an assassin (this game), what he gets is Umpirical anger. Interfering with the game to this extent, as a non-player, isn't acceptable. Worrying your friends if you're playing or not is one thing, sending hitmen is very much another.

As B was killed as an Accomplice, of sorts, B is strongly asked to no longer participate in the game in any way, as per the rules. A, not having died yet, may still be an Accomplice to some player if he wishes, but naturally I'll be watching closely....

Sirrah gained competence for a completely fair kill, and I see no reason to make him Wanted for killing an innocent, as he was very much not to know.


[16:00 PM] Friendly Target (Luke Kirby) makes a raid on the mountains, to be killed at the gates by I Used An Unsuitable Pseudonym, Then Totally Failed To Provide A Replacement with Dain II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills helping.

Friendly Target reports:

I knocked on I Used An Unsuitable Pseudonym, Then Totally Failed To Provide A Replacement's door, his room mate opened and both fired at me, with me taking at least one shot to the chest. I fired off a shot before dying but only managed to disable his arm. My civilian accomplice survived the battle unscathed. Time of death 4pm.

Dain II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills reports:

What foolish men dare to assault the hills of Erebor?! Two puny warriors hungry for the blood of the King's room mate attempted this in the forth hour from noon - needless the say they were crushed under might dwarven warhammers (actually NERF darts but hey ho) and both occupants - minus one right arm - live to continue the war...


[16:30 PM] No maned saviour for Nala (Eva Higginbotham), as Polysyndeton comes with a knife.

Polysyndeton reports:

I'm just reporting that I assassinated Eva Higginbotham with a cardboard knife at a party in her home today at 16:30.

Nala reports:

Dear Snow White,

Reporting my own death this afternoon at 16.30 in my house with a cardboard knife.

Eva


[17:30 PM] Punctuation still escapes ihavenoimagination, as do his attackers.

ihavenoimagination reports:

some sneaky assassin was almost able to surprise me in my room, he managed a wide shot before i scared him off. He seemed to skulk in the shadows of the corridor but by the time i went around the outside, he was gone... (no casualties, but a decent attempt)


[17:30 PM] Extra, extra, Kane achieves nothing at all.

Kane reports:


W3N NEWS


Good evening, I'm William Frank. Our top story this evening:
GDI officials are denying recent reports coming in from European blue zones alleging activites by teams of 'assassins' apparently acting for the Brotherhood of Nod, including an attack on a top GDI university in which an unnamed senior official narrowly escaped a burst of gunfire. GDI has described the reports as unfounded rumour and the product of "desperate propaganda by a terrorist regime on the brink of collapse". It is trying to refocus attention on the Tiberium Reclaimation and Abatement Summit currently underway in the United Kingdom and move discussion away from security concerns.
More on this story as it develops.
Over now to our sports desk.


W3N FOOTER


[17:30 PM] The final sleep comes for The Sleepless Sheep (Benjamin Edwards), as Joaquin Vasquez watches The Mysterious Lighthouse Keeper, Old One-Eyed John kill.

The Mysterious Lighthouse Keeper, Old One-Eyed John reports:

I, as The Mysterious Lighthouse Keeper, Old One-Eyed John, snuck into [redacted] college with my accomplice Joaquin Vasquez and murdered Benjamin Edwards with the shattered blade of my broken cutlass. Stabbing him in the shoulder than leaving him to bleed out in his room atop his tower.

The Sleepless Sheep reports:

I Ben Edwards was killed. He had a plastic toy knife. I opened my door, he stabbed me.


[18:00 PM] A long day's sleuthing for The Gentleman, Transparent Ghost and co.

The Gentleman reports:

Dear Umpire, Patrician,

It is with a degree of dissatisfaction with which I must report on the doings of this Sabbath day. Having luncheoned in my rooms, Transparent Ghost, my lady-friend and I conspired to set off on what is referred to in the vernacular as an 'assassination crawl'. We proceeded to wander, with much frivolity, towards the crenallated spires of [a crenelated college]. Upon arriving at said college, we took the assistance of a local taxman hailing from the emerald shores of Ireland, who by a stroke of coincidence, happened to live on the same staircase as our Woman. A polite rap on the door yielded no response. Further raps revealed nothing of note, and so the conclusion was reached (aided by the board on the entrance to the stairwell indicating that she was not present), that our target had instead opted to enjoy the rather mediocre weather in the main town. We pragmatically proceeded to exit the locale before we were set upon by velociraptors.

Doubtful it stood, as two spent swimmers who cling together, and yet we clung to one another's spirits and took a short jaunt to the residence of our next target. This entrance proved to be more challenging, as custodians barred the gates to unauthorised intruders such as we. Fortuitously, a simple flash of forged identity papers was sufficient to secure our passage. Once inside, we stood discombobulated at the august majesty of the environs at which we stood, and the throngs of people who were within. Nevertheless, once again we were fortunate enough to happen upon another hapless helper, who handed help which we would henceforth use as our helm. However, even this fine brick's advice proved lacking, and we found ourselves in the midst of some form of gathering, from which we extricated ourselves only with difficulty, and hired a guide of Classical bent to guide us through the winding halls. She delivered us well to our target's door, and once again, we prepared ourselves and knocked. Once again, our triplet of triple-knocks was to no avail, and we made our ignominious departure once again.

We took counsel among our number once more, but steeled our hearts and pressed on. Passing rapidly through a postern carelessly opened by an individual extricating his penny farthing, doors swung eerily open before our tread, and a further set of stairs passed us by. Perspiring, we proceeded once more with the 'knock and abide' strategy. And, alack! Although a skittering of steps from inside indicated inhibitation, it was rapidly locked in our incompetent faces. With naught more to do, we proceeded to seat ourselves on a pair of handily placed trunks, and composed a missive declaring our sorrow at having missed the Lady who we saught. It was a most flowery (literally) message, and concluded with our hope that we could hobnob with her in future, more happy times. We also left a message with an passer-by from the adjacent room. With that, we took our leave, pausing for a short time on the stairs lest the attackers became the ambushed, and then fled.

Shambolic is the only word to describe our efforts to date. Having devised the most perfect subterfuge, our efforts were nonetheless futile in the face of barred entrances and unpopulated dormitories. But Assassins of the Guild we are, and in pursuit of the art of murder, our dedication knows no bounds. And so it was that we made the long and hardy treck to the [flattering and poetic but sadly revealing description of a college]. Once again, a helpful washerwoman acted as our guide, taking us all the way to the door, that fateful door, which remained resolutely rebuffing of our increasingly desperate rapping. Refusing to get ruffled, we retreated, our spirits low and failing.

My lady friend at this juncture recommended that we cease our noble efforts for the time being and collect her means of transport, which she had left at some far-flung land. This duty was undertaken with a degree of relief, given our lack of success in other regards. However, as we returned to our one true home, it was suggested that we make one more attempt. This one was at the modern mansion of [yet another college], a most marvellous miracle of manufacture. Here, too, our hopes hell-ward fell, as entrance even to the stairwell of our target evaded us. It was beginning to drizzle lightly at this point, and so, with the heaviest of hearts, we headed finally back to our home.

I hope that this report finds you in most excellent health, and I can only apologise for our lack of competence and state that we shall undetake further investigations forthwith.

Fondest felicitations,

The Gentleman and his Lady-Friend

Transparent Ghost reports:

O Umpire; Keeper of the Game, Such That Shadowy Substances Must Restrain Themselves From Wreaking Havoc Upon All Mortal Targets,

We found the homes where the targets dwelled -- the ghost, the gentleman and the accomplice. By none were we seen; and yet none did we see. For mortal fools can be wise in the face of scornful Death, and seek to run from him, from room or dorm to flighty hope. For none escape him. It is a matter of mere Time.

We read the minds of men to see where targets roamed, we walked through walls to linger around rooms; but alas! human knowledge is so fallible, that not one of them does see that which is not in front of them. Five colleges we haunted -- five victims did on that day flee the grasp of their own mortality.

One target, from the college of [redacted], was however present -- and whilst her concealment was weak, the rules of the game were too strong for us to rebel against her locked door. We haunted her corridors, waiting, waiting -- then as time elapsed glided away, into the night... Ghosts have notoriously short attention spans.

As for all my targets, I am waiting.
As for these desolate souls, ripe for the harvest -- I will always be waiting.

The haunting has begun.

THE TRANSPARENT GHOST


[18:50 PM] Despite a medic on the scene, Madara makes short work of Sirrah (Joseph Gregory)'s life.

Sirrah reports:

Doc was leading another assassin through my accommodation. There was some confusion about his peaceful intentions. After hiding for a bit, I came out of a room, fired blind, missed, and was subsequently stabbed by the friend. That was a successful attempt to build an alliance...

Madara reports:

My friend and I went into a [college redacted] building to kill his target. We somehow realised an assassin is hiding in a toilet waiting for an ambush opportunity. My friend left me for his target and I waited outside that toilet. 5 minutes later, Joseph Gregory opened the toilet door and fired at me but missed, then I stabbed him in his heart. End of story.


[19:55 PM] Et Tu, Bwute? Havelock knifes Pontius Pilate (Frederick Brewer) with no remorse.

Havelock reports:

Hidden by shrubbery, I lay in wait as my target made his way up the dark path towards me. His confusion as I emerged was evident, but it did not last long; I quelled his suspicions with a smile, and stopped his heart with a knife. My deed done, I melted back into the darkness of the night.

Pontius Pilate reports:

I attended a meeting with some of my most twusted generals, in the most secure of locations. I was then shortly betwayed and stabbed by one of my own. TWAITER! ENEMY OF JEWUSELUM! Webel sympathising, half witted, WAPSCALLION! Her wank was as high as many in [wedacted]!


[22:15 PM] Javalar, Letisha Al-Sadd and the late Aloysius (Benedict McConnell) go to kill Stealth Prawn, but the kill is annulled for illegal necromancy.

Stealth Prawn reports:

Stealth Prawn had settled down after a long, busy day to plot a course of action. A knock on his door at 22:15 turned out to be his good friend, Benedict McConnell, whom Stealth Prawn knew to be dead, having already lost his life at the beginning of the game. After answering the door with weapon in hand, Stealth Prawn let his guard down at seeing his friend whom he knew to be out of the game. However, as soon as Stealth Prawn invited Benedict in for a cup of tea, the door was pushed open by Letisha Al-Sadd and Javalar who had been lurking round the corner. Stealth Prawn failed to draw his weapon again in self defence and was quickly dispatched by Javalar.

Umpire's addition:
Dead Players are not to be used as Accomplices. See section 4.2 of the rules - 'refrain from....directly involving themselves in any Assassins activity'. Since Benedict being dead was very much The Thing That Got Stealth Prawn Killed, I'm annulling the kill, and Stealth Prawn is still alive. Dead Players who wish to involve themselves in the game still should sign themselves up as Police - who, generally, are ok to Accomplice, under normal non-player Accomplicing rules; as since the police list is public, it avoids any 'but they were dead!' arguments, since the victim in those cases could have checked the police lists and known about the resurrection. (NB: Police are not allowed to act as police until they're on the list....)

On the other hand, since I believe the live players weren't to know any better at the time, no one is going Wanted for anything, fear not. Competence has been granted to Javalar for what was otherwise a decent kill.

(And for those keen eyes who thinks this report contains a violation of the No-Force rule, I've talked to those involved, and it seems everything was fine on that front, despite phrasing here. Look up the No-Force rule, kids, it's an important one.)

Monday, 19 October


[10:00 AM] Head-split for Hedja (Edward Enrique Bottomley) as Dain II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills's axe gets some exercise.

Dain II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills reports:

Apparently some faithless woodland sprite attends lectures at 10AM on Mondays. For some reason or other - a certain ally of mine was acquainted to this creature. This would nevertheless prove useful as said ally engaged him in conversation, where upon which I split his head open with a large axe - a good morning's work...


[11:00 AM] Js and Vs everywhere, as Joaquin Vasquez kills Javalar (Javan Heales).

Javalar reports:

Just to inform you I was stabbed today outside of my lecture, however I don't know the name of my killer

Joaquin Vasquez reports:

Today at around 11 am just outside his lecture, I, Joaquin Vasquez killed Javan Heales by stabbing him with a knife that I had constructed out of tin foil.

I knew who he was because [of reasons]. I recognised him as he entered the lecture, tailed him on the way out then got his attention so he could turn around and I could stab him.


[11:45 AM] Missed: mail and murder. Gul Dukat fails to deliver.

Gul Dukat reports:

Sorry, you were out!

We tried to deliver your untimely death today, but you were out.

We will attempt to re-deliver at an unspecified time and location!

Your name(s): [Unsurprisingly redacted!]

Hope to see you again soon,

Gul Dukat


[13:00 PM] Seratos gets a message through, but doesn't get a kill.

Seratos reports:

You unzip your bag and find a strange envelope inside. The front of it reads 'WHAT TO DO TO NOT BE STUPID.' It was not there when you last closed up your bag. Intrigued, you open the letter. Inside are three chocolate coins that feel like they've been in a fridge and a sheet of paper, with a typed-up list that has been annotated in blue ink. It reads as follows:

WHAT TO DO TO NOT BE STUPID, BY SERATOS.

1) FIND PLACE WHERE TARGET WILL BE. (Lectures. Check.)

2) ALWAYS HAVE COVER STORY READY. (Just an innocent student that happens to be doing work next to the exit of the lecture theatre. Check.)

3) BRING EVIDENCE OF COVER STORY. (Laptop and supervision work. Check.)

4) SET WATCH ALARM TO ALERT YOU BEFORE TARGET APPEARS. (Set to XX:58. Check.)

5) BECOME COMPLETELY ABSORBED IN DOING WORK, SAFE IN KNOWLEDGE THAT ALARM WILL ALERT YOU. (Check. This is Cambridge after all.)

5) REMEMBER LECTURES END AT XX:55 NOT XX:00. (Uuuh.... oops?)

6) DON'T COMPLETELY MISS YOUR TARGET BECAUSE YOU WERE PACKING UP LAPTOP IN PANIC. (Well, at least I saw them and they didn't see me. I'll get them next time.)

(I paid the friend of a friend some cold, hard cash to get this to you anonymously, dear friend. You can eat the leftovers if you want to.)

(With kindest regards,)
(Seratos.)


[13:15 PM] Rocker_in_m gets close enough to stab Snail, but through illicit means - kill annulled and Rocker_in_m goes Wanted!

Snail reports:

At around 13:15 today I was assassinated by Rocker_in_m who walked into my room and stabbed me because the bedder had propped my door open to clean my room. The bedder was in the en suite bathroom which he walked past, and large items of cleaning equipment were just outside the door.

Umpire's addition - that counts as obvious enough, Rocker_in_m should have easily been able to realise. Wanted list for you.....


[15:20 PM] Narrow miss for Azor Ahai - but hey, free knife from Laddergoat.

Azor Ahai reports:

Dear Umpire,

An unsuccessful attempt was made on my life at around 3.30 today. I did not catch the name/pseudonym of my attacker, but as they (presumably) know mine, you should have their report coming in soon.

The attacker knocked on my door, which I opened. I saw no-one, so I stepped back. The attacker threw a pen labeled 'knife' at me, missing me by an inch. Before he could proceed, I retreated into my room and closed my door. The attacker agreed (through the closed door) that he had not hit me.

Laddergoat reports:

I launched an attack upon Azor Ahai today. Finding his room, I knocked; he opened the door, allowing me to fling a knife at him. Unfortunately, I missed. I left quickly, fearing reinforcements.


[16:22 PM] Competition begins for the coveted Leek and Safe award.

Leaked images are emerging of a top-secret weapons development program, and its terrifying results.... Tiny Bow! Tiny Bow!


[18:15 PM] Sorrow abounds, as The Gentleman makes short work of Potter (Ilona Szabo).

The Gentleman reports:

Dear Sir Umpire,

I beg report to you on this day that my lady-friend has departed me for some form of 'education'. The sorrow which this has bought me cannot be merely expressed in words and hence assuaged- it must be drowned, drowned in the blood of others. "Murder is the best cure for sorrows", as my college mother likes to say.

And so, since I could stand the tearings of my heart no longer, I equipped myself with knife-pen and knife-pencil and pistol and second knife-pen and rapid-fire miniature gatling gun and trod the streets of Cambridge once more. This was itself a familiar tread, for I had walked it not a day before, but in much happier company. I sent a signal flare soaring to the heavens, to be seen by my erstwhile hunting partners, stating that I was going forth once more.

It was but a short time, or so it seemed, before I arrived at the entrance to the site of my murder-to-be, or else ignominious death- either seemed preferable to the misery that presently consumed me. I was fortunate in that walking the same way, though without the same bloodlust, was an innocent and unsuspecting individual, freshly returned from the delights of Cambridge's heart. I nimbly bounded and walked through the portal into the college, hand on knife-pen lest my target target me on my ingress. Fate smiled on me once more, and as I made the turn toward the staircase which was my deliverance or doom, yet another innocent was there to open my way. I smiled at her thankfully.

But the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley (as our Scottish friends are wont to say), and in my very moment of triumph, I had been mistaken. You see, to this staircase, there were two levels, both requiring an entry token, which I (quite naturally) lacked. In my haste, I had chosen the wrong one. I stood at the top of that thrice-blasted flight of stairs for many minutes, hoping against hope that I had the right floor. To my dismay, a third innocent cheerily announced, on questioning, that I did indeed stand on the wrong level. Having levelled my hopes, she disappeared into the cursed floor, leaving me to contemplate my state.

I am redoubtable, but to access a floor which, as I had gleaned from a glance as I passed by, was fully populated, tested even my courage. But I could not leave empty-handed. My furious sorrow would not allow me. I knocked on the door, and inside I could see one who looked like my target. Confused glances greeted me, but as I smiled and waved at the people inside, one came round and opened up, giving me an enquiring glance. I launched into my cover story- that I had been speaking to Simon, who was in the year above her at our school, and we were thinking of organising a school formal and that her name had come up. This mendacious torrent seemed to satisfy the gentleman who had greeted me, and he pointed out Ilona as the target of my interests. Unsuspectingly, Ilona came round to the side of the cooking area. "What did he say?", she asked, perhaps sensing that something about my presence was not entirely correct (like the fact that my informant had, once again, been entirely incorrect and Simon had apparently gone to Oxford, not Cambridge). "Ilona?", said I. She nodded. "Good, well in that case...", and with that I drove a knife-pen into her abdominal cavity. As she bled out, she was heard to say something like "Well that didn't last very long...".

After that, all there was to do was to pay the ferryman (four hobnobs, again unpoisoned, although my stocks of homemade hobnobs are running low and I may need to bake some more) and talk briefly with the corpse and the gentleman who had granted me passage, who it transpired was another assassin. Fortunately, he lacked any means to strike me down as I had struck down his flatmate.

I walked home, missing my friend somewhat less. Within my heart, though, the victory turned sour. The sadness of her comrades and her corpse were truly a sight to behold. Mayhap murder is not the answer to misery.

Kindest regards,

I remain,
The Gentleman


[18:59 PM] Is there a Doctor in the room? One that hasn't shot Rocker_in_m (Marios Michael) for his crimes?

Doc reports:

It came to my attention tonight that a certain Marios Michael was in need of some urgent medical attention, so being the diligent doctor I am, I paid him a visit at his house. Alas, he was not in when I first arrived, so I waited in the gyp room and he arrived after a couple of minutes. I heard his voice as he ascended the stairs, and stepped out, delivering a single shot to the chest. Unfortunately, I must have got the dosage wrong, as he swiftly passed into a dreamless and everlasting sleep. Perhaps one day he will be woken by the kiss of his true love?

Doc


[20:40 PM] That doctor arrives in the form of Laddergoat, but it's too late for poor Rocker_in_m (Marios Michael)....

Laddergoat reports:

I just (2040) made an attack upon the Wanted Marios Michael. I successfully skewered him with a throwing knife. Unfortunately, he had already been slain an hour earlier by the chief of police...


[22:15 PM] A valiant but lamentable defence from Anon. Y. Moose (Jared Jeyaretnam), stabbing just-happened-to-be-in-the-vicinity-Doc's leg, but dying to a bullet from behind from Madara.

Anon. Y. Moose reports:

Dear Umpire,

Today I was killed by two marauding assassins from [college]. I was in a friend's room when I heard the lift arrive. Going outside to see who it was, I spotted a man in a [same college] tracksuit jacket. Having heard intel the day before that my room was visited by assassins from [that college still] while I was at dinner, I was suspicious and locked myself in my room while I sent a non-player friend to scout for me.

Having verified they were looking for me, he convinced them to leave. However in my foolishness I decided I could ambush them. As they entered the lift I followed them, but the doors had shut. I pressed the call button (another stupid move) and the lift reopened. I ran off to hide, but they saw me and followed me.

Tracking me to a gyp room, I tried to pass myself off as a friend of myself, but as I saw this failing I drew my pen-knife and stabbed one intruder in the leg. Sadly, the other claimed he had shot me in the back as I leaped. The one I had stabbed was Police, while the other got away unharmed. I'm not sure what their names are but I'm sure it'll be in their report.

I accepted my death honourably and would be happy to join the Police.

Thank you,

Anon. Y. Moose (aka Jared Jeyaretnam)


[22:30 PM] Despite valiant medical attention, Geraldine Barker kills off Guiness Girl (Lauren Perry) only inches from room-based safety.

Geraldine Barker reports:

Dear Umpire,

I might have killed my first target today, Lauren Perry, but I'd like to consult it with you first, because she claims to still be alive. Apparently you are not allowed to attack your victim on their way from bathroom to their room. Heavily wounded, with my pocket knife sticking out of her chest, she invoked this rule, so I used all my medical skills to keep her alive, apologised and promised not to report her death before hearing your judgement of the situation. However, her condition is still critical and any comment from you regarding our encounter can push her back in the valley of non-existence. This wasn't my first attempt on her life, as yesterday I had spent about 20 minutes in front of her room, waiting for an opportunity to attack, but although I could hear her behind the door, she didn't leave the room or answer my knocking, so I left. I'm in a slightly unfavourable situation now, because I'm no longer anonymous to my target, so any further assassination attempts will most likely be more challenging. I hope therefore that you'll declare her dead.

Yours,
Geraldine Barker

Umpire's addition:

Yup, there's no such rule that I can find or have ever heard of. Lauren, sorry, but you have been killed. I'd be interested to hear why you thought it existed though.


[22:30 PM] Looking-For-Princess stabs first, asks questions later, goes Wanted in between.

Looking-For-Princess reports:

Oh dear.

I heard a knocking on my door, and when I called out who was there no-one replied. Naturally I assumed the worst and swung a mighty blow. One of my peasants was now lying on the floor, deceased, a prank gone horribly wrong.

Tuesday, 20 October


[11:00 AM] Another short stay on the Wanted List, as Looking-For-Princess (Christopher Martin) is 'cured' by Doc.

Looking-For-Princess reports:

BREAKING NEWS!!!

The wayward prince commonly known as Looking-For-Princess, on the run from the law, was shot dead today by Doc who recognised his face from the wanted poster.

Bystanders report the prince's last words: "No happy ever after... for me..."

Doc reports:

Bumping into the wanted criminal Christopher Martin on Downing Street, I delivered a swift injection of lead to the heart. A confused look covered his face as he crumpled at my feet.

Diligent Doctor Doc


[13:07 PM] A kill by The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons at last! Bad luck, Polysyndeton (Mattie Wechsler). Where's our novella?

The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons reports:

Hey hey Sludge Grey!

I killed [REDACTED SPECIFIC 1 OF 3 LITTLE PIGS] for you a few minutes ago! Target was at the [REDACTED FACULTY ALMOST CERTAINLY MADE OF STRAW] for the compulsory seminar which formed part of the [SPECIFIC POSTGRADUATE COURSE REDACTED BUT IT OBVIOUSLY WASN'T A SURVIVAL COURSE WAS IT].

[BIG BAD WOLF] successfully managed to [HUFF PUFF AND BLOW THE TARGET'S COVER USING THE INTERFAIRYWEB] after which I arrived at the [REDACTED SEMINAR VENUE SOMEWHERE FAR FAR FAR FAR AWAY] at [ONCE UPON A TIME] and briefly considered entry by [LITTLE PIG LITTLE PIG LET ME COME IN?! Hello Mr B. B. Wolf, did you sign up to this seminar? mmmhmm ok maybe not brb] before realising this would be [APPROXIMATE FOOLISHNESS LEVELS SLIGHTLY ABOVE THE AVERAGE POISONED APPLE].

Instead waited [A HUNDRED YEARS] before the seminar ended and target emerged - potentially heading towards [LOCATION OF ONE TRUE LOVE AND UNTOLD FAIRYTALE RICHES] or alternatively [LUNCHTIME] but either way the target instead discovered [THE SWORD OF TRUTH!!! well yes ok it was a ruler labelled life] but unfortunately positioned adjacent to and then within the target's neck.

Deceased was observed to start telling its friends posthumously "Ummm, so...I play Assassins..."

Umpire's addition - that better have been labelled knife not life....


[14:20 PM] Better luck this time for Seratos, successfully dispatching Middlemarch (Christian Mok) as planned.

Seratos reports:

There is the rustle of something directly above you. You look up, but the night is too dark to clearly see. You catch a glimpse of something dark and feathery flying at high speed, but nothing more.

An envelope falls down next to you. You pick it up and brush off the dirt, then peel open the seal. Inside is a letter in blue ink, with handwriting you're beginning to recognise.

(I corrected yesterday's mistake. My watch alarm was properly set.)

(Target eliminated via knifepen. No struggle. It took him at least three seconds to even realise he was dead.)

(I'm trying out Owl Post as a method of anonymous messaging. It's working out well so far. What do you think?)

(With kindest regards,)
(Seratos.)


[15:02 PM] Stab stab - deadly dagger of Kris Marshall ends The Jellied Baby (John Tothill)'s life.

Kris Marshall reports:

This afternoon, at approximately 15:02 hours, John Tothill succumbed to the stealthy dagger of Kris Marshall.

The target was identified using archaic location pin-pointing (reading his name on the board) and eliminated subsequent to brief interrogation (asking his name). An oriental ornamental dagger (hair chopstick) struck the upper arm at its junction with the collarbone and the target perished immediately.

Kris Marshall will come for you, wary participants. Heed ye my words.

The Jellied Baby reports:

Unfortunately I just got stabbed by a nice person called Kris Marshall.


[15:52 PM] Remorse fails to register with Geraldine Barker after the cold murder of Dr. Smith (Joshua Blake).

Geraldine Barker reports:

I'll make this account brief, because the accident that I want to describe was also pretty banal. When I realised, with the blood-dripping knife in my right hand, that the helpless target, whose body was lying in front of me, did not even try to defend himself, for a second a feeling not unlike guilt went through my mind. But this is our job as assassins, and we should not let ourselves be swayed by emotions or sentiment.
(Let me just note that the way I entered his staircase was quite sneaky and clever, because I managed to convince a random cohabitant of this very staircase that I want to visit the guy in [nearby room]. I was lucky in assuming that it was a guy and it was not the person I was talking to at the moment, and that the room was actually inhabited).


[22:45 PM] Ishmael (Christopher Bowring) too busy looking for whales, as Stealth Prawn swims up behind.

Stealth Prawn reports:

At approximately 22:45, I recruited a friendly stranger who knew Chris to help my cause. Intrigued but nevertheless slightly troubled, my new acquaintance knocked on Chris's door while I concealed myself around the corner. Christopher opened his door to speak to his flatmate about this and that, and while Chris's door was open wide, I lunged with a cry from around the corner and plunged my sword into Chrisopher's heart, killing him instantly. It was a valiant death, as Christopher's knife did leave me with a nasty shoulder wound, which I fully expect will leave me with a grade A 'badass' scar. I felt a brief flash of regret for his untimely demise as he lay on the floor, but quickly left before I was observed before anyone else.

Ishmael reports:

Tuesday 2300. On answering my neighbor at the door I Ishmael was rudely ambushed by my enemy who struck at me with a sword. Having only a knife I lunged for my would be killer but alas I my chest was pierced by the cold blade. However I nonetheless drove my knife into his body, striking his arm and shoulder. So I perished, but not without leaving my mark on my killer, a wound that will persist until his dying day...

Wednesday, 21 October


[08:35 AM] The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons strikes again! - with poetry, not with kills.

O Umpire, thou art but a fool,
For everybody knows
(At least, of those who went to school):
"Novellas" are in prose!

I sallied out at early dawn
And tested my sharp knife,
Prepared to greet the gentle morn -
And take another's life!

But I was slow to spot her, and
I lost another day.
For indecision stilled my hand:
My target biked away!

In shame at how I've acted
(So far, only weak attempts
To kill target [REDACTED])
I will claim no Competence.


Umpire's additions:

I said ode originally. I'm well aware of the definitions.


[10:00 AM] A deadly application of pure force, as Applied Mathematics knifes Jessica Stuurm-Breen AKA I Grew Up Milky (Curtis James Reubens) outside lectures.

Applied Mathematics reports:

To Miss Cambridge, Snow White: [Oh, you flatterer.]

While sat in a lovely pure maths lecture, the target was entirely safe, comforted and enveloped in proofs and unfaltering logic. As soon as they stepped out into the real world, the disgustingness that is applied was able to strike at them. I got their attention then stabbed them with a golden kris, 'proving' (in an applied sense of the word) that they were dead.

Jessica Stuurm-Breen reports:

There are no Curtis James Reubenses in Cambridge. There was one, but he got a bit knifed in the back this morning, and now there are none.


[13:00 PM] Jon Snow (Ben Shergold) falls to Salah-al-Din Abdelwaheb's knife...

Salah-al-Din Abdelwaheb reports:

Having spent some time researching (aka stalking) my target on social media in order to find out their subject, I searched their lecture times to find a time that would be 'convenient for the two of us to meet'. I recognised my target from his social media profile, but asked him his name to be sure. In a moment of stupidity that he would later regret, he told me his name. Drawing my weapon, a knife that looked suspiciously like a mouldy carrot with the word 'knife' stuck onto it, I plunged it into his abdomen, disembowelling him. He tried to grab the knife on the way in but it simply sliced through his hands and straight into his stomach. I then fled the scene, blood soaking into my clothes, and proceeded towards my next target.


[13:45 PM] ...and Salah-al-Din Abdelwaheb again takes Olaf Prot (Harry Sarson)'s life.

Salah-al-Din Abdelwaheb reports:

Having disembowelled my last target, I cleaned the blood of my clothes and proceeded to Harry Sarson's college in order to 'bring him a present' (I had never met him, but I had been stalking him for some time and thought it was time to reveal my 'interest' in him). I tried the stealthy tactic of knocking on his door, but there was no answer so I decided he must be in lunch. However my stalking had informed me that he had a lecture at 1400 and so assuming he would return to his room before leaving for this, I waited for around 20 minutes, during which I made myself less conspicuous by using the time to speak to a contact in the Middle East. Seeing someone who resembled my target entering the building with a group of friends, I followed them inside. However, they were talking at the bottom of the stairs, so having realised that I needed an excuse, I said I was looking for the nurse, and went and sat in the waiting room, hoping that she would not call me to see her. However, when all but one (who was clearly not my target) of the group had gone to their rooms, I asked the remaining innocent if one of the group were my targets. Evidently, this innocent was not fond of my target, and proceeded to his room to distract him, while I walked up behind him and shot him with a single round in the back from a range of approximately 3 metres. His heart pierced, the unfortunate target collapsed to the floor in a mercifully quick death. I then thanked my accomplice for his assistance, and was informed that his so-called (ex) friend was incapable of remembering his name, proving a motive for a 'proportionate' revenge.

Olaf Prot reports:

Unfournately an assassin apeared at my doorway just now. Dispite very supicouous behavior I did not suspect his true intentions and allowed myself to be shot with a nerf gun.


[15:05 PM] Adam Stone (Kai Johns)'s ghost delivers a message from Seratos.

Seratos reports:

You're walking, alone, though the playing fields; the sun is shining brightly up above. Suddenly, you feel a cold touch on the back of your neck. You spin around, rubber-band gun emerging seemingly from nowhere, but see nobody. The grass stretches away from you, empty...

...All except for an envelope lying innocently at your feet.

(Sorry for bothering you again so soon!) Seratos's scrawl reads, when you unfold the letter later in the safety of your room. (I got a little enthusiastic. Kai Johns is dead via waterpistol shot. Heard he was a friend of yours. So sorry.)

(His ghost volunteered to convey this to you, but since you can't see of hear him I'm not sure how it'll work out. To be honest I don't even know if he can carry things.)

(If you're reading this, I guess he found a way to do it. Have a nice day! Also have some advice: never, and I repeat never, open your door to a guy asking if he can have some of your paper.)

(With kindest regards,)
(Seratos.)


[15:30 PM] Strike 3 for Admiral General Aladeen of Wadiya, as The Fitz Foe (Danny He) bleeds out. Very impressive.

Admiral General Aladeen of Wadiya reports:

I am delighted to announce car that I have just dispatched my third target, meaning that all 3 were dealt with within 2h and 30 mins. My third kill was a simple but effective matter of walking into my targets room and shooting him once in the abdomen, the only complication being finding someone to let me into my target's staircase. I then fled the scene having watched my target bleed to death and slump over his desk.


[16:30 PM] No-one finds no-one while looking for Voltrix.

No-one reports:

Today at approximately 1630, I went into [a] college to locate Voltrix's room for future reference. Upon gaining access to the building I knocked on her door twice, but as she was not present I had no choice but to leave, with the intention of returning another time.


[19:30 PM] Nobody home, but at least The Gentleman and Transparent Ghost (and this time Geraldine Barker) keep trying.

The Gentleman reports:

Dear Lord Umpire,

Once again, my letter must contain ill news, for there has been no bloodshed this evening. My sorrow has lessened somewhat, time being the great healer that it is, and so my fire burned less brightly, allowing others to be near without risk of a red mist clouding my vision and the blood of my allies being shed in error. Therefore, it was with great pleasure that I formed a small unit with Transparent Ghost and Geraldine Barker, and proceeded to stalk Cambridge as darkness fell and the land was transformed from a pretty and inspiring place to a dull and foreboding vista.

We began at the college of [still redacting these]. Small children ran by, outfitted in attire entirely right and proper to their status. I can only commend the parents of these sprites for not conforming with conventional dress, and instead properly preparing their offspring for their adult role. I joined my compatriots in a wide courtyard, and we made our way through a maze we had navigated not two days ago. Alack, for the result was also the same as the previous one- a sullen silence greeted our knocking, and further knocks at adjacent doors also showed no signs of life. Shaking our heads at the dead atmosphere, we left, hoping to find more excitement elsewhere.

Our next call was at [guess what], the inhabitant of which again had eluded our Sunday excursion, this time by dint of not replying to knocks or calls. Our easy passage into the college and up to her room were in vain, and history repeated itself again, with the door barring our entrance and small sounds from within indicating a silent presence. We once again proceeded with the only method of communication available to us- the traditional note, which this time further expressed our displeasure at being denied the opportunity to make her acquaintance, and finished with an injunction to greet us next time we made the laborious trek to this place. With that, once again, we were forced to retreat, cursing her forbearance and sensible strategems of securing herself and silently staying still.

Disappointed that our results this time were no better than the last, we opted for one last throw of the dice, and this time attended [a] College, again encountering properly-dressed young gentleman. I nodded at one, acknowledging his desire to better himself, or at the very least, his sense of style. The walk to the main body of the college was long and dark, with the wind gently ruffling the leaves being sufficient to send tingles down many a man's spine, and served to heighten our reflexes against potential ambush-based counter-assassination defences. None were forthcoming, and we proceeded to a well lit area, pausing on a bridge to contemplate the meaning of life, before pressing on. Up we climbed, up to the second level, a set of rooms which might yet contain some excitement, some adventure, a duel of wits or of skill, or else- as it turned out- nothing. Once again, our target was absent. As we stood there, gazing at the door which remained locked, footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of a gentleman, who was somewhat surprised to see a posse on his stairwell. We exchanged words with him, and he confirmed that that who we sought was indeed not in. We left a message with him, and departed the college, passing by the sounds of many students at feast, presumably including our own Lady. Grinding our teeth, we made our way out, returning home for some well-deserved supper and respite from the cares of the world.

I hope, if nothing else, that this bears witness to the cyclic form of History, and stands as a testament to our persistence, if not our ingenuity.

I remain,
The Gentleman


[22:10 PM] Laddergoat (Alexis de Vivenot) slips off the mortal ladder - or were they pushed by Febreezy?

Laddergoat reports:

Unable to bear the mutual suspicion and suspense any longer, and other targets eluding me annoyingly, I made the unwise decision to make an attempt on the life of Febreezy tonight at 2210. Unfortunately she'd been tipped off prior to my visit, and preempted my knock with a bullet. Indeed, I was hoisted by my own petard...

Febreezy reports:

22.10: Febreezy - erasing the scent of betrayal one goat at a time... (erase your would-be murderers for only £2.99!)

Thursday, 22 October


[08:40 AM] Short and sweet from The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons, just like Locke (Jamie Bernardi)'s life.

The small, suspicious-looking lemon sitting in the corner of the room, which Snow White will undoubtedly notice and eat because she's a moronic fairytale princess and they always eat suspicious-looking foodstuffs because of plot reasons reports:

As morning's light touched buildings old,
My target fell, and bled.
He spoke then, as his flesh grew cold:
"Wow, that was smooth," he said.

Locke reports:

Witnesses say the killer watched through the gates all night, waiting for his victim to emerge.

When he did emerge, he was none-the-wiser to the fact that the man with the briefcase he passed on the way out of the forecourt gates would double back and slit his throat, leaving him to bleed out on the cobbles.


[09:57 AM] Surprise! Urist (Dimitrije Erdeljan) notices Scarlet far too late.

Scarlet reports:

I waited outside Dimitrije Erdeljan's lecture this morning and waited for him to emerge. When he did I followed him and soon afterwards stabbed him with a knife in the right of his ribcage at which point he bled out until he was the colour of my name. Unfortunately as we were on the ground there was no handy window from which to defenestrate his corpse so I had to leave him lying there on the ground.

Urist reports:

Soon after leaving the morning lecture (at around 10AM), I heard someone say "dead". Naturally, this confused me for a moment, but the situation became clear when I noticed the knife sticking out of my back.


[11:03 AM] Stealth Prawn lives up to his name once more, as Basil Hawkins (Simon Percelay) dies quietly.

Stealth Prawn reports:

Calling in a favour last night, I deduced Simon's whereabouts at various times throughout the day. My information turned out to be factually correct, and at 11:03, I spied Simon standing with his peers, waiting by the road. I called out his name, and as he turned, ran him through; a clean kill. No risk, high reward. I concealed myself with a hood and melted into the crowd, already gone.


[11:55 AM] Murder most foul, of the English language. And also of meh (Monsheil Kahai), by gang5ta dw4rf y0.

gang5ta dw4rf y0 reports:

y0 umpy

K1ll3d 4n0th3r t4r63t ju5t n0w 4 u w1th 5t4bb1n6 4nd 1 $upp053 u $h0u1d b3 1n4m3d n0w

k33p 1t s4f nd $w466y m8

urs

gang5ta dw4rf y0


[15:38 PM] Nothing still for Gul Dukat....

Gul Dukat reports:

Dear Umpire

Another mostly fruitless attempt.

Targets 1 and 3 were out when I called, and target 2â??s building was, in this instance, inaccessible.
But I have been given a tip off (unwittingly, Iâ??m sure) regarding target 1â?¦so watch this space!

Yours, as ever
Gul Dukat


[16:00 PM] Not so lazy for Lazy Fox, as A Rather Uninteresting Dwarf (Nathan Dean) dies unremarkably.

A Rather Uninteresting Dwarf reports:

I was assassinated yesterday at 16:00 by a dagger to the abdominal area. [Umpire: Yup, that'll do it.]


[16:05 PM] Salt & Pepper tries to kill Natural Selection but the Umpire disallows the weapon and makes Salt & Pepper Wanted! Get your weapons checked, kids....

Salt & Pepper reports:

Dear Snow white,
I attacked my target at 16.05 today, from behind with an improvised garrotting wire, and throttled him. The garrotting wire however, wasn't labelled - wasn't sure if this was a requirement for a kill or not?

Umpire's response:

Not only should the weapon have been labelled, neck-based weaponry is definitely not ok. Please take note, everyone, if you were thinking of anything along these lines!


[17:03 PM] Gul Dukat(Joshua Bell)'s attack gets him killed, but Kris Marshall goes Wanted for the death of a friend!

Gul Dukat reports:

Dear umpire

In what may be the shortest wanted period ever, it is my displeasure to announce my death this afternoon at the hands of Kris Marshall.

Having returned to my target's college, I knocked the door and was pleased to hear someone come to the door! It opened a fraction. I stayed back and a person came to the door. On instinct I fired! - only for the real target to come around the door and bang-kill me with a banana. I then realised that the dead innocent had been the person who tipped me off earlier this afternoon.

Gul Dukat has been cast into the Fire Caves!

Kris Marshall reports:

Dear Snow White,

At approximately 17:03 hours this eventide, a great tragedy occurred which was avenged with full force of blood and ire.

A stranger with the raiment of a lost motorcyclist and the aura of an English teacher made contact with the abode of Kris Marshall, the entrance being manned by an innocent bystander. The leather-jacketed gunman was out to spill civilian blood, and coldly released the trigger, shots echoing in the silence of general headquarters. As the civilian fell, pitifully decrying the hand of fate in the death of youth, the insurgent hesitated, no doubt sniffing for more innocents whom he might likewise slaughter. The civilian's skull cracking on the weary floors, which no doubt have never seen such an inauspicious calamity (this isn't John's), Kris Marshall stepped forth from a diplomatic mission to Narnia and presented the insurgent with a brutal yet reasonable manifestation of justice. Pistol still smoking atop the neat bore-mark in his forehead, Kris lives another day.

Beware, ye readers, for Kris knows when you are near, and he prepares.

All the best,

Kris Marshall.

Umpire's addition:

Note that deliberately allowing a person to open the door instead of you makes them an Accomplice (it's in the rules!), and getting your Accomplice killed makes you responsible for their death.... Kris Marshall goes Wanted!


[18:45 PM] Clinically cold for Voltrix, sorry Sleepy panda (Yu She)....

Voltrix reports:

Under fortuitous circumstances and a handy tip-off, I made my way to the dining hall this evening and stabbed Sleepy panda in the back. Medics would agree with me that the position of the wound may have taken some time to kill her as she bled out. However, I think the shock killed her long before the wound did...


[19:30 PM] The Postmodernist makes no kills. It's probably performance art.

Postmodernist reports:

The game of assassins consists in the creation of an hyper-reality of meaning in which the self-defined "players" "play"; but what could be the meaning of "play" in this conceptually undefined attitude-towards-game (Einstellung)? Here "game" must be intended as the larger creation of a profoundly interrelated network of entities-that-are-here, which can't be understood as a mathematically-definable "sum" over all individuals "playing", but as an emergent á¼?Ï?ίÏ?αινÏ?μενον on Hegelian grounds. And the time evolution of Hegel's overcoming (Aufhebung) is exactly how the inter-relations - which are at the same time "sub"-relations to the emergent hyperreality - should not be conceived; to the contrary, time collapses in an instant, in a deeply non linear - Bergsonian - way. We have thus clarified the meaning "play" in this linguistic context. And only in this context our actions - mine and my allies' - can be fully comprehended. We spent the evening entering other people's accomodation ([large amounts of redaction]). Not only our hours were spent without getting any "kill", but only in one of these cases we managed to see the person we were looking for - when they passed in front of us to get in their staircase.


[20:30 PM] Attempts, and nothing but, for Stealth Prawn and globalnomad.

globalnomad reports:

As darkness descended Stealth Prawn and myself, globalnomad, left the comfort of college with a plan to search for and kill no less than three of our prey. An hour and a half of cycling the length and breadth of Cambridge later, we returned unblooded. We sought our first target in the rabbit warren that constitutes his digs (apparently no one in his entire corridor was home) as well as in his college formal hall, where we approached two individuals who looked shockingly like him but rather awkwardly were not. Our proximity to the second victim-to-be was considerably more promising after conversing with a helpful gent, but alas he proved to be engaged in â??official activitiesâ?? and thus was safe from harm. After a burst of energetic scrambling and knocking on kitchen windows we gained access to the abode of our third target who, tragically, was also not home. All in all a fairly fruitless night, though not without incident.

Friday, 23 October


[08:40 AM] Dain II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills tries to bring down Kris Marshall, but the criminal gets away...this time.

Dain II Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills reports:

Today I made an attempt to bring the heinous criminal Kris Marshall to justice. I anticipated the route she would probably take to [REDACTED] and went to lurk there at around 0840. Unfortunately I failed to anticipate that this route was literally used by every other student to get to any faculty anywhere so my attempt was unsuccessful and even browsing [REDACTED] after [UNSPECIFIED COMMITMENT] was over also failed to yield any result. But I shall bring you to justice soon, Kris, have no fear (and by justice I mean a highly gruesome and bloody death involving axes). That's all for now...


[17:36 PM] No blood spilled as Blood Red not in for Admiral General Aladeen of Wadiya's blade.

Admiral General Aladeen of Wadiya reports:

Dear Umpire,

I just attempted a hit on my target, Blood Red. Given that she lives about a [redactedly close] walk from my room, I decided to give my new killer pet, who I have affectionately named "Percival the Pernicious Platypus of Peril", a taste of human flesh on the way back from a supervision. Reeling from my disastrous first attempt at a [subject redacted] Essay, my psychopathic urges were too strong to resist, and I made my way to my target's room. Unfortunately, she did not respond to my ominous knocking, and the lights inside were out. Percival will have to go hungry... for now. But let her not be complacent, for in the immortal wise words of a former Governor of California, "I'LL BE BACK".

Your faithful psycho,

Admiral General Aladeen of Wadiya


[17:40 PM] Paranoid Life-Insurance Payout Man! shoots The White Rabbit (Josh Garfinkel) - for carrying a mere pen, and thus goes Wanted.

Life-Insurance Payout Man! reports:

At approximately 5:40 today, I shot Josh Garfinkel with my waterpistol as he came out of [some place somewhere]. I had seen him very visibly bearing a nerf gun on my way out, but had no weapons on hand, so I disappeared for a moment to prepare my attack. Doubling back, I tailed him out. The nerf gun was gone, but he was holding tightly onto a pen in his right hand in a very assassin-like way. I shot him in the back for bearing, but alas the pen was in fact just a pen and not the knife I had presumed.

The White Rabbit reports:

Today at around 17:30 as I was leaving [the same place] holding a (quite clearly not labelled as a knife) pen in my hand I was brutally murdered by one Life-Insurance Payout Man! wielding a water gun. She was aware that I was an assassin as she had previously seen me holding a (then concealed) nerf pistol. As far as I am aware I was not one of her targets and I was not at the time carrying a openly any weapon (it was made clear to me that unlabelled pens are not knives) and so I think this makes her a criminal (all be it accidentally). [Yup!]


[18:00 PM] Who's dead? No-one! Aka Ben Igielman, thanks to Voltrix's cunning.

Voltrix reports:

Not long after returning from my daily lectures a loud knock came upon my door. Cautious yet curious I made my way to the door to look through the peep hole. My guest unknown to me, I quietly went to my desk and cocked a nerf gun while also arming myself with a syringe which held a most lethal injection. Although I was sure he had heard me, I then remained behind the door, watching as my assassin, Ben Igielman, became more and more confused at my apparent absence. Eventually he left, and upon waiting a minute or so, quietly followed, finally catching up with him as he and a friend left the porter's lodge. Taking my chance I shot him, taking out his arm before stabbing him between the ribs with my syringe, the lethal injection taking his life.


[21:09 PM] Madara has a glass too many, stabs Chief of Police Doc, goes very doomedly Wanted.

Docreports:

Last night Madara and I were at a formal in [a] College. After a couple of drinks, he decided he could kill me and get away with it, possibly because one of his targets for redemption was a mutual friend of ours. Unfortunately, he had not realised I was in fact police, taking the numerous times other assassins had told him this as confirmation I had started a rumour about it to protect myself.

He then stabbed me in the chest and was horrified to discover that he had murdered a policeman. I warned him that he would be placed on the wanted list and took my leave.


[21:15 PM] Unsurprisingly, Chief of Police Doc kills his Wanted killer Madara (Xiang Hao).

Doc reports:

Returned as a Chipped Commander, I found him inside an unlocked room, surrounded by innocents. This did not protect him, and he fell to a flurry of knife-strikes.

Yours resurrectingly
Doc


[23:37 PM] An attack on Stealth Prawn by Dmitri Ivanov, but no injuries sustained.

Stealth Prawn reports:

At 23:37, a knock on my door alerted me to the presence of someone in the corridor. A group of strangers stood outside; I opened the door the smallest crack and conversed with a friendly person I'd never met, who was inviting me to a party of someone I'd never heard of. On my guard and armed with my brand spanking new six-shooter, I suddenly threw open the door, jumped back and opened fire. Bullets flying back and forth, nobody was hit, and when the smoke and noise dispersed, the assassin and I agreed a brief truce to retrieve ammunition, before bidding each other a good night, and fair hunting. No blood was drawn on either side, but the face of my enemy is now known to me.

Saturday, 24 October


[00:55 AM] Lock your doors, Short Lived is about - and he's already killed thesoulessvino (Eloise Sinclair)....

Short Lived reports:

The week passes. I watch the bodies fall around me. It must be done. I prepare and in the dark night, steal to [a college], where the locals, seemingly unaware, let me in. I make my way to a solid oak door, fearing my frutration. And yet, I am smiled on. The door opens. Inside there is nothing. I wait. She comes. I shoot. She dies, there, on the floor in her own room. Such is the world. She seems.... almost at ease? I commune with her spirit, make an offering, and leave her on the floor there. Then back to the night air, and to my room, and then finally to a long strange dark kind of sleep.


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