The Assassins' Guild - Week 7 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 7 NewsDear The Invisible Hand,
You had been double crossed.
I had never left my bed when I told you I was outside the library waiting for you.
Bet I scared you though, huh?
P.S.
No one tricks the Queenslayer
Loyalty was becoming a messy business. Furston's life had descended in a matter of days to something to celebrate, a wonderous sense of freedom, to a cold war with a twitch who had once been one of his only friends.
After the bloody ambush of last night, his circuitry still reeling, he knew there was no turning back. They had to work together today on some strange service project for unrelated reasons, and today he knew that he had to deactivate Ivanova Koestler as fast as she could repair herself, or the same fate awaited him.
So a meeting point was announced and she was there and inevitably they both came out firing. But in this case foresight prevailed over the killer instinct and hard earned murderous wisdom of the older, more experienced Koestler. Furston having left earlier had procured the advantageous position already, and his superior firepower once more ripped through the gasping Koestler, worryingly alive, the leaking fluid looking all too like blood.
Already the repair subroutines had began though. She would be back. She would always be back.
Finally finished; falling foul of a forgetful friend who failed to fasten my front door. Adios adversaries, all armed alliterating assassins are abolished.
I was walking past [REDACTED] college, when I realised Holey Hick may be inside, incompetent and alive. I got to his room and I couldn't believe my luck when I saw his friend leaving. Clearly, Holey Hick wasn't paranoid enough because for a few moments after that his door remained unlocked. I couldn't miss this opportunity and so I walked in and shot him. He didn't even get a chance to reach for his gun, which he kept inconveniently far from his desk.
I got to the top of the staircase where a wanted assassin lives, I heard someone cooking from behind the kitchen door and decided to wait in the corridor. Then I noticed Emile Ward's door wasn't shut, so I got into his room and sat on a chair waiting for him. When he got back, he started eating, but I was in a different section and was too afraid to make a sound as it'd be extremely foolish of me to assume he wasn't armed.
He finished his meal and went to the kitchen to wash up. I repositioned myself closer to the door. After waiting for a few minutes, he walked in, unaware of my presence, and I took a shot. It hit Ward in the chest before he had a chance to raise a gun he was holding.
Trexer and I (the fundamental group) went to Mop's college around lunch time, hoping to get him in case he went to their dining hall. Unfortunately, we could not spot him so we then went around the college and found his staircase. We saw other people lurking at the bottom of the staircase (kitchen) and thought it would be too dangerous to make a move at the moment and left after waiting a while more.
The fundamental group and Trexer
Some people just don't learn! Door wide open, I walk in. Malfunctioning droid "Flip Flop Thief" is disabled.
Furston didn't enjoy this.
It wasn't fun or pleasant. Perhaps he *had* made a mistake picking the side that he had, routinely butchering an old friend was not the sort of actions he had wanted to spend his new life doing. But still, Gray came first. Getting to Gray, finding out who he was, what he wanted, why The Cause had been so intent on bringing him down, and then finally doing whatever he could in his power to make whatever They had been so scared of come about...
That was what mattered. That was all that mattered. They had to pay for stealing his entire life. If he had to protect Gray from his oldest friend in order to achieve his aims then so be it.
He frowned at the once again sparking, inactive remains of Koestler. She'd repair again of course. It was starting to annoy him. It didn't even hurt any more, he just felt annoyed.
Honestly, deep down, that worried him. But for now revenge came first.
Friedrich Van Caspar didn't expect me waiting on his corridor as he went back into his room.
Let's finish this.
Mop
The postal service still does not work for GrayCorp, but occasionally stumbles into law-abiding duties. Such as dispatching polar bear that was terrorising the city.
Following the wishes of GrayCorp makes me feel slightly itchy, so I went and mauled a pleasantly familiar GrayCorp employee to restore balance to the universe.
Omar Patel was one of very few players I would feel bad about killing. He wasn't inco, had to my knowledge he's never tried to off me (better luck next time, fundamental group), and just genuinely seemed like a decent guy. But the game must go on, and so I stabbed him in his department at 8:45 this morning.
Mop
Just murdered The Gentleman with a Rabid Pasty after arranging to meet via Mop.
Magdala Buckley
The skies were crying. They were black, and the grip of the chill air clung where it could around the exposed features of the man. Grim and pale, clad in a jacket and shirt, steps brisk into the cold night without a glance at the sky that dropped tears like cold daggers into the skin. He knew why it wept, why the chill that others mistook for winter had come down like a hammer on this town over the past few days. The game was close to the close, and the dark power was strengthened yet again, power that would be expended over the months of famine that followed. A self-perpetuating, self-feeding cycle. Much like life. A bitter smile played over his lips.
Nearly a year since he gave control of the Power in that ritual that nearly killed him, stepping out of the darkness just as it swelled to consume him, and back into the light of God's redeeming love. He had nearly not made it. Consumed with the desire to master it, he would have stayed and fought the long defeat against a force that could not be defeated. An urge as old as the city itself, as primal as humanity: to kill and slay, to survive and build a life for one's-self in the world that could not be changed by you, but in which you lived nonetheless. Iron rules and harsh punishments- all the better for the power, to feed off the lust and envy that fuelled the 'game'. Lust for life or for death, envy of the achievements of others. That desire to establish yourself as the king or queen, to be remembered for all time. An insidious trap. Tailored to humans, the preferred prey, all the more so because they think themselves predators. At last, a relevant thought. Again, the bitter smile.
He crossed the street as cars swooped by overhead. This time, the power had warped Cambridge into how it would be in the future, a city where the once gleaming spires of King's College had long since been overshadowed by the tall skyscrapers, a facade of steel and glass over an iron heart. And in the middle of it all, the Gray Corporation, a looming monolith that dominated the town, in presence and in spirit. Recently, the owner had (in secret, internal meetings) elected to allow some resistance to his rule. In agreement with the Capital, now rebels scurried like rats in the gutter. They had reprogrammed some enforcers, started an internal war in the police force. For all the good it would do them. Their souls had already gone to feed the dark power, and now the conflict that they brought would boost those flames like twigs thrown into a blazing fire. Foolishness. All for naught.
Nine months ago, he'd been spat back out into the world, staggered out of whatever place the dark power had made its home. He'd gone first to the grave of his Lady-friend, lost once many years ago, and lost again a second time when he had rebelled against his master. The grim corpse he had brought back into a semblance of life had been the first thing to return to death, like a puppet with its strings cut as he fought to control the malfeasant being he'd served faithfully for three long months. He'd done one thing right that day- her soul had returned to heaven, and not captured as it left the dominion of the thing in the tower. It had kept him close to sane in the long fight that followed- invocations and prayers, spells and pentacles, fire and darkness. As he'd teetered on the brink of being subsumed into the thing he fought, as his predecessors beckoned him into the heart of the beast, her memory had brought him back. But she was gone, and he was all that remained.
A chuckle, then. Everybody knows that the dice are loaded… the song played dull in the caverns of his mind. There had been a deal, an unbreakable condition of his escape- or release? He wasn't sure. Another round of the game, another throw of the dice. He'd played that game with the tail-end of the fury he'd mustered in that final conflict. The figure who now ran the Capital had been his chosen ally, and they'd stood astride the city together, back-to-back against all comers, lightsabre in his hand, gun in hers, allies at their flanks. They'd cut a bloody swathe through the city, under the approving eye of the new mistress, recruited from what were his most loyal lieutenants in his own reign.
And when it came to the final duel, his partner had themselves succumbed to the lure of the game, firing a single shot into his back to end the game and save her own life- or so she thought. He had seen her descent, and knew it was only a matter of time before she came to be the ruled ruler, the conquered king. He'd hoped he was wrong, but the wheel had turned, and so it was. It mattered not. Win or lose the game, he was still a denizen of the city, free of the pull of the dark power but still subject to its laws.
So it was he found himself here, here in the darkness outside the gate. As the days had turned into weeks, he had done little for the game, for it was past him now. Why shed souls to feed a malice which merely consumed more spirits, growing in power little by little as the years slipped by? In the city, though, others had entered heart-and-soul into the game, knives flashing in the streets, rooms turned from sanctuaries into scenes of horror. In many cases, the candles that had blazed brightly were snuffed out by betrayal or by ambush in a game with no victor. Now, with only a day to go, the stage seemed clear. Desiring to end the game in an orgy of blood-letting to secure their ascendency, the two who controlled the game had decreed that those who had not performed their duties to satisfaction would be dispatched by the dark power, without recourse or mercy. As always, the knives rose and fell ever faster, leaving only ten alive of the two-hundred mortals who had started. The power would be truly sated this year, and grow ever stronger for the year to come, expanding to dominate other demesnes. There was no victory against it, not as long as humans remained human.
Everybody knows that the good guys lost. Most all of those who he had fleetingly thought had even the slightest chance of coming to do what he did, and not win, but at least equal the dark power had gone. He'd noted with interest the progress of those who had struggled under him in his time, those who might have the strength to fight the corruption within. Now it looked as though one of them- only one of the dozens who had begun the game- would enter the final contest and gain a portion of the power of the dark heart of Cambridge. He'd aided him as he could, him and his group of Parchment Eaters, now only a pair from the trio he had seen form a few weeks prior. Their aim tonight was to secure the younger member a place in the duel- a woman unwearied by previous conflict, untried in the field, but loyal. He'd tried to help from afar, but as the sun went down on the penultimate day and, like a chess game, it became clear that a sacrifice was required. One way or another, he would not survive the day. He'd return, of course. He always would from now, bound to Cambridge while the spirit survived. His own life mattered little. An easy exchange for hope for the future and companionship in the twilight.
He saw her, a furtive figure flickering in the gate. Exposed. Under-armed. What if... He suppressed himself, tightening his jaw. The other had also not arrived, he noted. All the better. If that one died now, this would be for nothing. Swift steps carry him to the door, and within.
"Magdala Buckley?"
"Hello!" She looks nervous, the stress of her vigil wearing on her. "How was your day?"
"Good, so far. How about you?"
"Good." Her eyes belie her words. They draw closer. He almost smiles. Everybody knows that it's now or never.
"Thomas not here yet?"
"Thomas couldn't make it, I'm afraid." She draws a ferocious beast from under her coat, where her hand was hidden, and deftly tears out the throat of The Gentleman. "I'm sorry!"
Everybody knows that the deal is rotten. As his body collapses, he rises to his full height, a pillar of ash, of smoke, emanating waves of barely-suppressed fury and sadness, tempered by a stubborn will, grim and terrible.
OH. DON'T BE.
She looks even more nervous now, even though he cannot hurt her.
TELL ME. DID YOU AIM. TO KILL OUR TARGET TONIGHT? IF SO, THE ASSISTANCE I HAVE SUMMONED WILL SOON BE HERE.
"N- no. We talked it out and decided it was too much of a risk."
Cowardice. Contempt, suppressed. Unfair, and useless. GOOD. SENSIBLE CHOICE. WE SHOULD NOT. STAND HERE TALKING. I WILL REFORM SOON. WILL CONTACT THEN.
"OK, have a good evening! I'm sorry again!"
He watches her go. This will only harm the dark power at the heart of Cambridge, and his new incarnation will bring many advantages in the days ahead. Perhaps Gray or Snow will be receptive, though he doubts it. There is nothing to bind them to this world, so they will fall to the dusk. A shudder ripples through him, and he dissolves, escaping the building, rising into the darkness around. The sky has stopped its tears, for there is nothing to cry about. In the distance, his 'assistance' approaches, an advanced combat unit driven by the soul of one who he lost to Snow in another life, another dream. He goes to meet her. He has time. Everybody knows that you'll live forever. Or until the breaking of the dark power and the new dawn. His Lady-friend is gone, his power ended. But there is hope to meet her yet.
And that's how it goes
Everybody knows.
Alex was Caules' friend. But Caules is dead. Therefore Alex is responsible for his death. I must avenge him. Alex is now dead. When he reassembles he'll die again. Gray must fall.
This was starting to get to Furston. He had thought life as a twitch would be easier. Less paranoia, and he was working for - if not good people - at least people almost guaranteed to be better than his previous masters. However has he had discovered from a few mishaps, the glitched forces were great in organisation and number, and getting deactivated, however temporarily, still hurt. So he couldn't pass up an opportunity to strike.
With that said, he'd *really* wanted to avoid destroying Ivanova Koestler again. There were other battles to fight, other glitched units. Bigger threats. She wasn't a friend anymore but she was becoming rapidly an obstacle which he was simply tired of shooting down. Fatigue and boredom if nothing else were getting to him. That and the worrying sense of desensitization that came from being a twitch, it was said that Gray had been an experienced killer in the past and that all twitches had some elements of him in them.
Cornelius Gray must be a cold man indeed. He saw Koestler approach, and as much as he didn't care, instinct and routine more than anything drew him foreward. A weapon was readied. The older model ran from him, and the struggle began. He fell, a chance for her surely, he would have to endure another shut down, another strange jolting period of half consciousness, unable to act, using auxiliary power just to think, until his own repair routines kicked in. But Koestler's weapon didn't fire!
"Confused" was to be another addition to his growing repertoire of emotions he hadn't thought a droid could express. He jumped to his feet only to join in the confusion as his own gun didn't fire! The stared at each other in shock and bewilderment for a second, then he remembered that he'd simply forgotten to prime his gun. In Furston's case, the malfunction was a slight error.
In Koestler's case, it was once again terminal.
He left her wreck in the street as an example to the other glitched, only very slightly self consciously.
The Invisible Hand has a core lecture ending at 3:30. Don't make Caules' mistake, arrive early. Lecture finishes late. Very few people leave. The Invisible Hand is not one of them. Obviously, he hates lectures. Mission failed.
James Duggan was returning to his room at 19:15. He had just exchanged Christmas gifts with his friends and was on his way back. Sadly, when he entered his room, he was shot. He had not expected police to enter his room without a warrant! He had also not expected the police to shoot him! In what kind of state was he living?!? He would have liked to talk to his landlord, to ensure that his door actually closed when he left his room, but sadly he was dead now. He wished he had left a last will and testament...
Since the start of this gruesome war, the data chip channel frequencies have been very busy, and identifying the one amongst all others was difficult. I decided to extract and investigate the data chip of Bubblegum, which seemed to contain mostly standard loyalist traits. A few days later, however, a source informed me that our target was female, so I decided to once again investigate her data chip. Although some aspects had changed, it was not emitting the correct frequencies for me to be suspicious, so I don't believe this really is our target.
I had come a long way with my roommate, partner and friend; watching out for each other, striving for survival. Little did he know that my true motive (at least for the past week) was that I could be the one to kill him. Planning on deceiving him only at the very end, I planned to act on the last hour. However, we received a a surprise visit from the Umpire [That would be me *waves* - Snow] at 23:00, and I decided that it would be more enjoyable to leave it until the very last minute instead. The Umpire might have guessed my intentions from overhearing a conversation I had with Twm, member of the police also currently in the room, and as an attempt to protect Trexer, she declared the room Out of Bounds. As I drew my gun at 2355, Trexer, unaware of the fact that he was actually safe in the room, escaped onto the roofs through the window. Distressed and confused, he forgot to pick up any of the many weapons scattered across the room. I jumped out of the window after him, and shot him in the head. He might have muttered some words as he fell to the ground, but they were covered by the Trinity Bells ringing midnight. I stood there until the bells stopped, contemplating my act, then climbed back into my room, grinning to the Umpire.
[Umpire's extensive notes and ruling: I, President Snow, was not the one to make this decision as I was directly involved in this dispute and so it came down to my dear friend, Cornelius Gray. The eventual decision was to annul this kill as a suicide intended to allow Clara into the duel.
No one can prove for certain their intentions and at no point did Clara and Sam admit to this. They claim Sam didn't know of any plans for him to die. From the hour I spent with them, it seemed obvious to me that this was their intention but they say I had inferred this when there was no evidence. Of course, if an Umpire had not been in the room when this betrayal had occurred it would have been very unlikely to be disputed.
Our versions of the event deviate once it comes to the killing of Sam. For the first kill, Clara told Sam it was time, he put down his plate and innocently looked away as she did it. When they realise this kill may not count, they both go to the roof to repeat the events to ensure she gets the kill. Clara recalls it in a way in which Sam valued his life. Twm argues that he simply had no self-preservation left due to the game being at an end. And so, a tough decision had to be made - to thunderbolt the Umpire (twice), Sam and everyone surrounding them, including two innocents (jk).
Regardless, there were no ill-feelings coming away from this decision and Clara attended the duel the next day, due to the death of Philine and the lack of availability from Tim Jepsen, and did incredibly well – Snow]
"So... Gray... mind if I ask you something?"
"Of course, Furston. You have a moment of my time."
"Was it worth it?"
"I don't follow."
"If that was all it took, was it really worth it?"
The secret leader of the corrupt police stared down at the body of the president before him and shrugged.
"No... not really... not if it happened like this. I... I'm going to have to bring her back."
The road here had been a long one... and at the end of it all, he'd messed up at the very last hurdle. Well... maybe this could still be rectified.
––––––––––––––––––––––
The duel. 4 of those left, the 4 who he felt had the greatest potential, faced each other off across the field he had gathered them together in.
So... after all this mess was over, he'd have his assassin.
Mop, Magdela, the Queenslayer and... the hollow knight.
He knew of one alliance to expect, between Mop and Magdela. He had expected the other two to team up, and so they did. Well... that left the state of affairs quite simple to analyse. Two large slug weapons wielded by two individuals of moderate training against one individual with a lot of training from that shadowy organisation wielding a series of large laser weapons and another who was wielding a similar slug rifle.
Laser weapons were known for their short range and absolute killing power once within range.
Well... there was nothing he could do but watch now.
Watch as the Hollow Knight took cover behind a fallen tree and the Queenslayer flanked the other two... watch as a short exchange lead to the Queenslayer took a bullet to the back as she retreated away from the two rapidly firing slug rifles... watch as the remaining solo duelist found cover behind a larger tree and managed to hold off against a barrage of rounds for an unreasonable time, then watch as they were finally converged on by the remaining two, first losing an arm and then their life.
Watch as one duelist looked rather clueless, not realising that their remaining enemy had been killed and their alliance dissolved. Watch as the inevitable happened, a pistol drawn, a single shot fired... and both still lived.
Well, that was unexpected. Gray burst out laughing as a second pistol was drawn, a shot was fired and the winner made clear.
Wait, wasn't that his own weapon?
Oh yeah, he'd handed it to the guy, Mop, in exchange for a favour, hadn't he?
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
So... he'd had his assassin... they'd faced off against Snow and... well, failed. Sure, it was quite impressive that they'd managed to circumvent every bit of security in the capital, made a little easier by the information on the capital's defences he'd obtained from the Twitch droids that he'd introduced that little 'glitch' to, but... well, faced with Snow, somebody whose skill was nothing to be scoffed at, they'd failed. Snow had dispatched them.
Well, if you wanted a job done right...
Gray, or, rather, Twitch, the current Jiro Twitch adjusted his hood and swiped his encrypted card across the access panel of Snow's private penthouse.
Simply accessing local security cameras had told him that his assassin had failed and that Snow was headed back to this haven of luxury and high security. Once inside, this would all be over... somebody would link the assassin back to him, and finally Snow would have an excuse to formally declare war. So long as it was just assassins, he was immune, he could replace destroyed bodies using a copy of his most recently updated consciousness, but... well, if Snow had authorisation to cease control of his production facilities, well, that would be it. He controlled the quiet, shadowy areas of this city, but Snow's forces would beat his if they could be officially mobilised.
Well, that meant that it all came down to this final confrontation, didn't it?
A message flashed across his left eye, an update from a recently retrieved chip by his glitching forces... the most recent order given to the police was to destroy him... well, that meant that this was indeed his last chance... if he failed here, all of the rest of his consciousnesses, every other copy of Cornelius Gray would be removed from this world.
He would not let it end that way.
He had gotten so close, damn it... the tower's power, the same power wielded by the Gentleman, was focused on this area, but he was beginning to understand it. The trick was not to go searching to control it... if you acknowledged that it was there, it acknowledged that you were there and ate away back at you. Instead, you just had to observe it all quietly and let it wash over you, slowly making inferences and deductions.
This place... a place towards the back end of time, it was the time in which he was most powerful, but there had been other times in the future and would be other times in the past... somehow, that made sense when the dark tower was involved.
Cornelius Gray, the man, had died long ago... but now his consciousness existed on in Twitch. Now, he could continue to track down the tower's dark influence and fight it wherever he found it, treading a similar, yet different path to the Gentleman. He would not embrace that power... he would continue to study it and in turn fight against it...
That was, if he could survive this moment here and now.
He was finally beginning to understand how this worked... Snow was meant to be the one with the tower's power, but his interventions had changed that, fragmented into two parts what was meant to be one being.
So, here they were... end of the line.
Gray affectionately stroked the pistol in his hands and waited. If Snow got past him, well, this unit would die, but that wouldn't matter in the long run... more importantly, the copy of his consciousness would likely be found and destroyed. That part bothered him just that little bit more.
Alright... any moment now.
As if answering his thoughts, armed with a large electric slug rifle, the president rounded the corner into the hallway Gray had been standing in. The two people who controlled this city, face to face at long last.
There were no clever words exchanged. Each knew that the other wanted them dead... and each knew roughly the reasons why. Neither could retreat from this confrontation. Snow's only safety lay behind Gray and Gray's only safety lay in the death of Snow...
If he could kill her, he had a plan to get rid of the order to destroy his facilities.
After all of this, the most important task had been left to one single Twitch unit.
"So..."
Glass eyes unfocused and focused, then Gray made the first move. His heel stamped once on the floor, activating the fog light he had hung up behind them. Barely a moment later, Snow opened fire.
Well, to hell with this.
Combat algorithms kicked in, predicting the movement of the rounds and Gray's body swayed, weaving a path between the bullets as he approached.
One second...
Two bullets, ignored flew either side of his head, worth adjusting for was the one headed for his arm, which he skipped to the side to avoid.
Two seconds...
The Twitch unit ducked under another bullet and raised its pistol, ignoring the rounds pinging off the walls around it... the fog light was doing its work, making it difficult to aim at a vague silhouette.
Three seconds.
Bullets were exchanged, the Twitch droid's aim was off. Snow swatted aside one bullet like a fly and continued. This continued until the droid tossed the weapon aside with a look of disgust and drew a short range laser gun from his coat.
After all this, he was finally giving in and using the more advanced technology, even if he did feel sentimental about his old ways... even if his old ways were better in some situations.
Ten seconds...
A near miscalculation left the droid dodging one shot by inches. A few moments later, another short message flashed before its left eye. The weapon before it contained 25 shots and according to the last count, that was all of them.
15 seconds...
Snow lay dead, a knife in their hand which had failed to hold up against the laser pistol.
Well... that was that.
Twitch hefted the body across his shoulders and began to haul them back.
He'd have to work quickly if he was to save what he'd built.
Ten minutes later, the Twitch force had a new member.
"You still have your memories? Your personality?"
She did... he didn't need her to answer to know that she was still the president. Gray didn't give her time to respond before pressing a com link into her hands and continuing.
"Call off the attack, now. At this stage, we are at something of an impasse... you have my life in your hands, just as I have yours in mine. If you call off the attack, claim that new evidence has come to light clearing my name, you can leave. In fact, you can have the city. I think I've just about finished with what I meant to do here."
"Oh... and feel free to publicise that the cure for warp sickness will be available to all at the nearest clinic for a moderate fee to cover nothing but the cost of raw materials. All further costs will be covered by GrayCorp. In addition, all participants of the Twitch program will have their consciousnesses restored to them. All I ask is that you leave my company alone... I think I've finally found what is going to happen here and I don't need your influence to stop it."
Warp sickness... it figured that the cure for it came from the Dark Tower itself... at first, he'd assumed that was just a byproduct of its power, but it had become clear to him that the sickness itself was the tower's way of harvesting souls. So, in finding the cure, he had foiled it anyway... mostly.
There was one thing left to do.
He'd be damned if he'd let it have the two hundred souls that it had already taken in this time. He'd had half of its power this time... so he was responsible for those souls.
Of course, he didn't have copies of the Twitch droids' consciousnesses. He hadn't gone round citizens creating copies of their minds, after all... but he could go retrieve their souls from the tower and implant them back into the droids... maybe.
It was worth a try.
What did he have to lose? He was one soul, nothing more, and he had already fulfilled his purpose in this time.
Hell, he should have died long ago. That, and life became boring when he wasn't risking it. Quite when he'd started thinking like that, he wasn't sure, but damn it, he was a master assassin, promoted to the rank by the Gentleman himself.
Two days later, the Twitch droid arrayed every member of the force up in front of the tower and stepped forwards.
On that day, Cornelius Gray disappeared from this world. The figure of order that he had once been, even if he had been a controversial one, was gone.
Where the world went from there... well, that was no longer his problem.
This tower, the guild and its sadistic games were the place where he truly belonged, not behind a desk, running a company. This had been an amusing distraction and a productive time given that he had severely limited the tower's ability to reap souls from this time, but... well, it was time to get back to doing what he was good at.
200 more souls were here, somewhere, to free, just as the Gentleman had freed the soul of his Lady Friend, it was possible... he'd managed it with 7 souls before, the 7 souls of the men he'd killed in his first introduction to the game... he'd avoided countless others even reaching the tower...
Now... where to start?
"Breadperson, correct? Look, please, this is the yeast I can do, follow me if you want to... damn, this pun thing is harder than it looks."
"The Gibbering Man... nice hat."
"Queenslayer... a good run, maybe we'll meet again in our next incarnations, hmm?"
"Ah, dearest Makishima... and others represented by that same... I understand that we did not get along, but please, allow me to explain."
"Magdela... that was a fine attempt. Here, I have a few tips for your next try."
"A forest of Latex? Really? Honestly, you scare me... but I may as well bring you out too."
"You..." He stared at the Autoumpire. "Honestly, I have half a mind to leave you here."
"Ah, you, addict... come on, you'll find your new body without your previous dependence on substances."
"Emile Ward? I must say, I've seen some tense situations in my time, but that one event... where did you procure those accomplices from?"
"Winnie... the Pooh? What are you even doing here? And... what in the world came over you? Are you mad?"
"Ivanova... I must say, your body served us well. Here, let me show you back to it."
"... Batman?"
"Anastasia... a silver tongue worthy of a corrupt gentleman. I'll remember to be wary of it."
"A... totem pole. Well, each to their own, you certainly seemed enthusiastic enough. Alliances can be fragile things, can't they?"
"Royal Mail... of all the things to escape my control, a mail company?"
"Alexander... walk with me. We have much to discuss."
"Tell me Omar... how much planning did go into those glorious 80 minutes?"
Mop wasn't there, of course... their soul hadn't entered this place in the bloodbath that had enveloped the city. They likely had taken the cure to warp sickness and survived.
And so it continued.
Quite how long he was in there for, Gray wouldn't have been able to say. Time held no meaning in that dark dimension, after all. But, eventually, he would emerge once more to find another body and fight once again.
Rocked up about 15 minutes late, pre-duel instructions had been given and duel site indicated. Duel site (just off Fen Causeway near the river) bounded by a stream on two side, bog on the third and a path/treeline on the fourth. A fallen tree in the middle limited mobility. About 10 spectators. Mahika, Thomas and Clara were armed with HyperFires, Hanna had taken two WWC water-guns and a nerf gun.
Andrew ordered the duellists into four corners, Mahika and Thomas on one side and Clara and Hanna on the other. There was a solid amount of chatter going down, so eventually he just started the duel (creating some mild confusion which would have been avoided if anyone was listening).
Not a lot happened over the first few minutes, all the combatants seeming hesitant to approach one another. Hanna and Clara had formed a last-minute alliance, and Mahika and Thomas kept their alliance. As Mahika and Thomas moved forward, Hanna moved round their flanks, ending up with her behind cover on one side of the field and Clara behind a tree in the middle of the field. M+T made no effort to avoid the flank, exchanging a few shots with Clara and also with Hanna. Generally tended to advance on Clara, which drew Hanna out. Some shots were exchanged with Hanna, who abandoned her cover and made an effort to charge them, and then retreat, but was shot down in reasonably short order, bringing the duel down to a 2:1 match.
Hanna's death allowed both of them to focus on Clara, who moved behind more solid cover on the death of her ally. This was another fallen tree, with a gap between the fallen and standing trunk which gave good visibility but blocked most of the shots fired. For this period, Clara mostly hid behind the tree, revving up her HyperFire to fire shots warning off her opponents when they got too close, but otherwise conserving ammunition and not attempting anything particularly aggressive. Thomas was encountering weapons issues, switching out his jammed HyperFire for a Retaliator, with limited success. Mahika also kept her distance. Their proximity to the ammunition supply allowed them to not worry about their expenditure, to the extent that around 100 darts were eventually picked up from around the tree (one of them actually impresively getting stuck in the bark for most of the fight). Water balloons were also tried with what could be described as 'limited' success. Eventually, various abortive flanking efforts actually resulted in a success, as Thomas moved round the right-hand side of the tree, pushing her back along the edge of the bog to... another tree (this one with less cover) which she reached without injury.
At this point, the other two duellists retired to get more ammunition and swap out their weaponry. Clara had a bit of jam, and also took the opportunity to reload. The fresh duellists then rejoined, T+M flanking more effectively this time, although again Clara used cover well and dodged a good number of their rounds. However, this tree was less-substantial than the previous tree, so the flanking manoeuvre was repeated, this time with enfilading fire being sufficient to first knock out her arm, and then in short order, another dart caught her on the head from Mahika, and so Clara was knocked out (having done very well against the odds).
Thomas was unable to see the final outcome. Mahika saw it, and walked up to him, whereupon the following conversation happened:
T: "Is Clara dead?"
M "Yeah, she's dead."
T: "Ah, I couldn't really tell..."
At which point, Mahika shot him at point-blank range. Unfortunately, the gun mis-fired at this point, and Thomas produced a Hammershot (apparently from nowhere), firing a single shot and ending the game.
Then we went to the pub :p
27 October, 2016. I get stabbed by Andrew Raison, M.A. walking to lecture after answering to my own name, and spend the rest of the term getting repeatedly slaughtered by police.
1 February, 2017. Carlotti stabs me as I walk into my building. I have little activity within the guild for the rest of the year.
And now I'm here. Mahika and I have survived betrayal, capture and various attempts near the end of open season and ended up in the duel. After showing our incompetence with any and all heavy weapons in a freezing practice session yesterday, it was time to do this thing for real.
We knew Hanna would be one of the duellists. With 8 kills including Evgeny, she was probably the most likely to win. Clara had gained the other spot after a long dispute, and of course the two decided to team up. There goes our one advantage.
So we get dropped in a swamp. I have a hyperfire, Darby's good old hammershot, a load of bullets, some melee stuff including my spoon, a couple water bombs etc. Mahika has largely the same but with a small Viper water gun which I didn't bother with because it was annoying to carry. Clara has a hyperfire also and Hanna has a big water gun as her main weapon.
So anyway it begins, Mahika and I run to each other, the other two circle us. We're definitely the two being hunted. We decide to focus on one player each, I'm dealing with Clara but she's staying very cautiously behind a tree. We fire like 2 shots each at each other and miss by miles. Hanna gets close to Mahika and they're having a bit of a fight, I start shooting Hanna while she's running through a nettle patch focused on Mahika and get a lucky shot in her lower back.
That was... unexpected. Two v one. Clara has found a bigger, bendier tree with loads of branches touching the floor to hide behind and we spend forever shooting the tree. Clara is sitting comfortably behind it, reloading with the many bullets Mahika and I shoot over there and occasionally popping out to fire at us, often enough that it makes it difficult to get close (she very nearly hits me once). My hyperfire runs out of ammo, I go to reload and somehow fuck up the gun completely. The police are trying to fix it but it's a bigger operation so I'm using this retaliator which is pretty big but you have to prime every shot and I'd never held one before. Not good.
The tree stuff continues for a good 20 minutes, Clara literally has bullets in her mouth because we fired so many at the tree (a fair few bullets got stuck in it). At some point I fall over dodging bullets and land in some nettles. I try to throw a water balloon over the tree, and get the wrong side of the tree because I'm weak. Eventually we try to flank her but my gun won't fire cause I didn't know how to use it properly and kept jamming it, so I run back and sort stuff out at the weapons area.
Clara goes to a different tree, I figure out my gun and we try to flank her again. I get pretty close with some shots but she's focused on Mahika, and the two of them are having a fight. I keep trying to hit her even after Mahika stops and walks over to me.
"You do realise she's very dead, right?" she says.
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah, I killed her."
Mahika then used my moment of confusion to fire the pistol Evgeny had given her at me, but Evgeny let her down once again and it misfired, the dart landing harmlessly at my feet. I drew my hammershot (in about half a second, according to Darby), and shot her right back. She pointed out I'd only hit her shoulder, so I shot her again in the head.
I'd been very lucky the entire game, but this was a new level. The duel could have gone any number of ways, most of which involved Hanna winning, but I don't think anyone expected this. As Darby pointed out, my game resembled his first one, and apparently that was to continue to the end.
Big thanks to Mahika for a strong alliance until the very end (I was totally cool with her shooting first, since we hadn't really planned anything and I don't know what I would have done in her situation), the umpires, the team of legends who gave us a bit of training and a lot of weapons, Andrew Browne for just about everything, whatever divine being caused Mahika's gun to misfire and everyone else (even Evgeny) who helped me along the way. It's been a blast, quite literally. Now to spend the rest of my days being hunted down from the start of every game...
| Home || Email |
| News 00 || News 01 || News 02 || News 03 || News 04 || News 05 || News 06 || Updates || Headlines || police || wanted || inco || stats |