The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 News

Once again, I wake up, intent on entering Lucifer's lair to perform that all important kill. I come to know of his 9am today from an unidentified informant but alas, as I trudge to his accommodation block, he has already left. No matter, this shan't be the last time I go for Lucifer.

I went to [ACCOMODATION REDACTED] and successfully killed Benjamin Franklin from [COLLEGE REDACTED]. There was someone opened the door for me when I found the place so I was pretty lucky. I waited from 10:39 till 11:35 after assuring he is in his room listening to Rock music lol. I killed him by his back when he wanted to go upstairs.

Just to let you know that I killed Opera today, a fellow friend at [COLLEGE REDACTED]. It was approximately 1:30pm and I waited until my target had left the library before stabbing him in the chest with a knife.

He turned to me with fear in his eyes...

"He's getting away! What do we do patient man?!"

Stoically, I turned towards the horizon, determination in my eyes.

"... we wait."

Soon, a great victory would be mine.

Everyone has to eat sometimes, and I was quickly running out of food. So I went to the market and gathered some supplies.

As I was leaving, I remembered that a large number of incos lived nearby, and indeed, more had just been added to that number. So I thought, why not pass there on my way in case I should stumble upon one?

I was in luck, the deadly Ariana Stark was passing me. I couldn't quite believe it. She was completely oblivious to any danger. So as she passed me, I turned round and swung my sword, and a beam of orange light struck her back, felling her instantly, to the shock of her fiends who she had been with.

Gp was sitting in his room with his door unlatched. I knocked once and opened the door with my off-hand mini crossbow in my on hand.

He unluckily was moving towards the door allowing me a clean shot at his torso, killing him. we then discussed the kill, and other stuff (like the fact [REDACTED]). I then left and stood outside a pub to use their wifi to write this report.

Dear Diary,

I have lost track of how many days I have wandered this place. I have found myself a quiet corner of the Labyrinth. It feels safe, secure, almost like home. I have yet to come across another adventurer in these parts. Each day I become more relaxed, more reckless. If you do not hear from me again, my complacency has got me killed.

--------

[Ahem.-J]

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Dearest Diary,

I fear the Goblin King has noticed my lack of action. Though we seem on good terms, I know that my laziness will be viewed as rebellion. Hoping to win his favour, I headed to an area I knew to be teeming with individuals Jareth deemed... unsavoury. And yet, none appeared. Eventually, I became too twitchy to stay, and fled.

I hope my King will forgive me for failing him this time

I was to attend a dinner the other night, lots of fancy dresses and extravagant attires were expected. I myself had picked out a rather sober suit, in theme with the season: dark shirt, dark trousers, dark jacket and a bloody red tie. Oh, and of course I carried my dagger with me. I had an inkling I might ran into some people I was more or less familiar with, though I had no reason to use my weapon on them.

Instead of walking like mere mortals, I materialised outside the whereabouts of my destination. Now, this is a place I had never laid foot in and I was rather hesitant to approach. As I stroked my necktie, feeling it tighten around my neck, I thought I spotted the Goblin King on the other side of the road, walking. My eyebrows shot up in surprise, astonished that my premonition might have been true. Nevertheless, it was dark and I wasn't sure, so I thought no more of it and went my own way.

I must have had a very lost expression as I stepped through the gates for an unknown lady approached me with a smile and kindly pointed me in the right direction. I arrived at a white door, exactly were she had said I would find it. The chattering of people reached me as I pushed it open and their clothing told me I was in the right place. This was the secret den where I would gather intel on my next target.

Immediately I spotted the optimal candidate, the one who would provide me with such information. He was an acquaintance of mine whom I had met on another occasion. He wasn't surprised to see me there, perhaps he was expecting me to show up. I took my time, investigating the identities of all those around me. No one of them appeared to be part of my same world, however, as the more I spoke with them the less I could feel any connection forming. It wasn't going to be easy to extract useful details from vague and unfocused conversation.

After a few drinks and a whole dinner I got back to my oblivious informant who was by now entirely intoxicated with alcohol. Seriously, humans are so susceptible to sweet poisons. Anyway, my patience had run short by that time, so I cut to the chase and asked him directly if he was acquainted with the person I intended to dispose of. He was and wickedly asked me why.

'Oh, you see, I would like to meet him. Do you think you could possibly arrange for that to happen?'

He wasn't sure then, he said he would have to check. I could see him hesitating to strike a deal with me. Even among those who are unfamiliar with the workings of dark magic, my name still precedes me. Nobody breaks a deal with Rumpelstiltskin, and failures to deliver what was promised aren't looked upon kindly by me.

Still, I did not press him, not too much at least. My plans won't bear fruits if I don't let them develop naturally. I plant the seeds and nurture them with magical words of persuasion, I am manipulative and make use of humans' fears and desires to temp them into a deal with me. Once I have my claws firmly sunk into them, it is easier to move them as I want.

He was a promising bet, however, and I decided I would wager on him. It turned out not to be a bad choice, so far. He has been communicative and willing to talk with me, albeit not so much informative as I had hoped for. He has no leads on how to get closer to my target, nor has he offered any more information than I already have. I am thinking of cutting my telepathic conversations with him in the near future, as that might expose me too much. Yet, for now at least, I will try to extract as much strategic intelligence from him as I can. Indeed, we have arranged a meeting for tonight again, more drinks and hopefully more profitable conversations. It might take some time, but my scheming always yield results.

***

Most revered Master,

It is done. Celaena Sardothien, the Noble Lady of Terrasen, is dead.

Your slave,

M

***

The man sat under the dim light of an oil lamp, staring into the blank parchment before him, motionless, unaware of the drop of ink that was about to drip down from the tip of his quill. His dagger, lying squarely in the center of the desk inches above the parchment, was stained with blood.

"Chaolâ?¦" Her dying voice echoed in his blood, pounding his heart with every aching beat, hurting even more as that name belonged to someone else. Was this a dream? Or was this labyrinth? He had dreamed this to be purgatory, but with every mission he faithfully carried out, he seemed to be one step further away from the Gods. For many a split second, the thought that "breaking the Code could be no worse" passed his mind, only to be consumed shortly after with shuddering and guilt.

And love...

Can a slave LOVE? In his previous life he never knew love. Or if he had come across it, he turned it away. The holy love of Paladins belong exclusively to the Gods, or so they said. He worshiped and admired them, but he recently began to question whether he had ever truly loved his Gods. That devotion he had for the Gods very much resembled a fraction of his complex feeling he had towards his current Master, which, Heaven forbade, he would never describe as love.

Maybe that was why he fell from the grace of his Gods. He had wondered how his fellow Paladins with their misters and mistresses survived the wrath of Gods, but maybe the Gods never cared about sharing affection with mortal creatures. Instead they just decided to punish him for the absence of it altogether.

Now that he knew love... and he murdered it.

***

1 DAY EARLIER

***

Dearest M,

It is the most beautiful time of the year to visit the land of Terrassen - colorful leaves, fragrant fruit, welcoming landscape and joyous people. The Lord of Terrassen is known for generosity and philanthropy. He hosts a wonderful carnival masquerade each year for all genders, races and ages to celebrate, where the rich and poor, noble and plain mingle under the guise of a mask. A light reconnaissance mission for you there - Celaena Sardothien, the Noble Lady of Terrassen. Her glamour is said to be too otherworldly to portray, but according to witness, she is "a fascinating lady of amiable demeanor, beautiful silver hair drapes around her slender waist, sparkling an aura of surreality as she glides gracefully through the room, entertaining her guests". She is, however, involved in sabotaging and assassination activities according to my sources. I'd appreciate it if you could confirm or dismiss that for me by investigating her agenda, particularly during the carnival.

Use discretion. Have fun.

Yours truthfully,

K

M was no stranger to noble ladies. Some were nice and friendly, some were light and flirtatious, some distant and solemn, some pale and acrimonious. They all shared one commonality, though: none of them seemed to acknowledge his existence as a High Guard, as if he was a statue rather than a person.

But that was not true. They did notice him, once. Only then they were screaming, crying, shooting swears and prayers as they scattered, tripping over each other or fainting altogether. The body of his Lord laid lifelessly on the floor, and he threw away his bloodstained sword together with his Paladinhood before surrendering to the Guards.

Even then they did not treat him as a person. A monster, perhaps, but not a person with a life and mind.

***

Terrasen was indeed everything his Master described in his order. He arrived in the Land on the first night of the carnival, and the capital was already filled with pumping festive air. He bought a cheap mask mimicking a plague doctor from some local vendor and strolled into the Lord's carnival hall.

M was quite glad that this mission seemed to involve a minimum amount of deception and harming innocent people. Even disguising clothes was legitimized for attending a masquerade. Surely this added to the difficulty of finding the correct person, but time was on his side.

He was having a pint of elder ale when a flicker of brightness caught his attention. It came from an Elf Queen, or rather, a dwarf-elf if such a being existed. The figure had long silver hair with curves that lighted up like flames, yet was of much smaller build than a normal elf and was playing a table version of Sokker ball which was by no means an elfish game. Could it be...?

M casually wandered to the table where the elf, a unicorn and a stone warrior were playing. It was clear now that the Elf Queen and unicorn were costumes worn by human, but he could not tell whether the stone warrior was costume or not. It fitted the description though, but he needed to be more cautious and surer before he could proceed.

"May I join?" M, now the plague doctor, asked.

The triplet were a bit startled but welcomed him heartily. M was exceptionally bad at Sokker, so he teamed up with the clearly professional stone warrior to play against the elfish pair. His purpose was to familiarize himself with the target to gather intelligence, but it turned out to be great fun as well, a simple joy that M had never had for he couldn't remember how long.

"I'm Mandalay, by the way. Merchant from the Capitol." M was not being dull by out of character. The point of using a common name was to encourage the others to do the same.

"Chaol." Replied the stone warrior cheerfully.

"Celaena. I'm local." The elf-dwarf-human smiled at him.

"May the Gods' favor upon you, Celaena." May the Gods' favor upon you, Celaena Sardothien, Noble Lady of Terrasen.

Celaena was nothing like the other noble ladies he'd seen. For one, he had never heard of any account of noble lady playing table Sokker. And she was quite good at it. When she won she laughed heartily, and when lost she took it well.

Maybe it was the effect of the carnival, the anonymity it offered to loosen up. Yet she was apparently not afraid of people finding out her true identity either. And one thing could not be mistaken â?? her eyes. Every time their gaze met, M saw a genuine ray of understanding and friendliness in them, neither presumptuous nor overbearing. She was treating him as a fellow human being for who he was, and that was something that must come from the nature of her heart.

Three rounds of game and M couldn't remember who won. His attention kept drifting to Celaena, the elaborate details of her dress, the swirl of her locks dangling just above those vivid eyes, and her slightly confused smile each time she caught his gaze. In the end he had to force himself to look away to appear normal.

Just when they were taking a break, a servant swung by, holding a tray with four glasses of wine in one hand.

"Wine?"

The stone warrior took one, and just when M was about to decline, he felt a light touch on his left waist. He looked up and the servant gave him a long, meaningful look.

"Sure." He took a glass, the servant nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

If that servant was his Master's courier, he would report back. Knowing that M never drank in the field, his Master would have understood that he was acknowledging the delivery.

M was slightly perplexed. If his Master could get his people infiltrate this place so easily, why would he need him to gather intel on the lady?

He excused himself to the bathroom and reached into his left pocket, and found a slip of parchment bearing his Master's unusually succinct writing. It read:

Dear M,

My source has confirmed that Celaena Sardothien needs to be eliminate. Dispose of as you see fit. Report back ASAP.

K

It could not be.

There had to be some kind of mistake.

He must have mistaken. All she had said was her first name, and Terrasen was a populous land. There must be hundreds of Celaenas in Terrasen, and chances were that more than one of them had beautiful silver hair. Indeed, she never even said she was a noble lady. Maybe they were just namesakes.

He had to be absolutely sure of it. The Master did instruct him to "use discretion". He intended to, too.

He returned to the Sokker table just in time to catch the two female whispering something to each other.

"You sure it's okay that I leave early, my lady?" He overheard the unicorn girl saying to Celaena.

"It's okay, I'm among friends here. Besides, I'm sure Chaol will protect me if needed." The lady looked up to the stone warrior with affection.

M's heart sunk. She called her "my lady". How many noble ladies with silver hair bore the name Celaena in Terrasen?

Choal's cheerful voice almost caught M off guard. "Switch partners?" He suggested. Surely he would like to be closer to Celaena, M thought. But the lady gestured for her maid to come over, and before M could think properly he found himself side by side with Celaena.

Sweats were coming from his palms. His heart beating fast. His breath shortened and he couldn't think straight. He had to pretend that it was the excitement from the game, but truth was that he was calmer than this even when he was thrusting his sword into the chest of his former Lord.

Gods help me. M thought. He focused entirely on the game, and dared not to look at the lady at all. Even so, his heart nearly stopped when he accidentally touched a coin's worth of her skin in the heat of a game point. He muttered sorry and both of them blushed. M's mind stopped.

Perhaps due to his full attention on the game, they miraculously won this match despite double amateurism. They had some great attack-defense coordination, and Celaena praised M vigorously on his delicate tactics. "Rematch?" Amusement glittered Chaol's eyes.

"Sure." He heard himself saying. Perhaps if this went on and on it would not need to come to that dreadful end. Or perhaps, perhaps this was all a big misunderstanding and the lady knew nothing about shady deals and meticulous murders. He had one last thing to confirm.

The last match was quick, and the Celaena-M team lost famously. Neither of their minds were quite on it. The unicorn girl bid farewell to everyone and Chaol walked her to the door. M saw his chance.

He called Celaena to the side, who was still blushing from all the excitement of the game and happily answered. M quickly made a gesture that any assassin would instantly recognize but meant nothing to an innocent. He studied Celaena's expressions carefully.

At first she was slightly confused. And then her eyes widened. She gestured back the right response, before asking hastily: "Where did you learn it?"

"I invented it."

Celaena's expression went through several phases: confusion, disbelief, realization, shock, and finally admiration.

"So you are the person that..." The look on her face was eating away M's heart. He knew that look, once, when he still took apprentices and saw it in them. A mixture of confidence and admiration. He had always felt protective over them, but never as strong as this.

"Yes." He looked at her dreamy face and imagined holding her in his arms. The tension in the air was tangible and everything else seemed to be silenced.

For a moment, there seemed to be something forming between them. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. He couldn't remember if she did, because he had to cut her off there.

"And I'm immensely sorry and devastated for this." A dagger materialized in his hand and plunged almost apologetically into her heart.

Blood. Her dying eyes, first on him, then on Choal. Choal rushing towards them. Choal sobbing and praying to die in her place. Fleeing the land. Tears. Blood.

All the time, he held the hilt of his dagger in hand, unable to clean it. It was her blood.

M sat under the dim light of an oil lamp, staring into the blank parchment before him, motionless, unaware of the drop of ink that was about to drip down from the tip of his quill. His dagger, lying squarely in the center of the desk inches above the parchment, was stained with blood.

Finally, he began to write.

Heard word that I might be able to intercept Lucifer this morning. But after half an hour in which the only thing that happened was having to dodge a pigeon's gift from above, I found him out. I'd get my informant for this, but knowing my luck I'd miss them too...

(sunday 9am. feel like pure shit jsut want kills xoxo)

Dear Sirs,

Following on from your previous letter accusing me of incompetency, I set off to collect some of the specimens on my current list. I regret to report that I once again failed to procure any of these creatures and beg you to see that this is not a result of ineptitude on my part, but is instead due to the hostile terrain I am working in. These swamps are not conducive to zoology. Why, when I tracked a ExoticAngel to its lair this morning, I was unable to lure the paranoid paravertebrate out to face my gun. I sympathise with it completely; just yesterday I had my pipe eaten again, this time by a Warbling Corpseye. The general environment of this area is a far cry from the civilisation of the Collegiate estates and fierce fauna seemingly lurks around every corner, prepared to snatch passers-by. Fortunately, I had a spare pipe, but it was a close call. Imagine, a gentleman stranded without his tobacco!

Your faithful servant,

Hutmann

I was greeted this morning by a suspicious knock on my door. I was brushing my teeth and was startled at the noise. I check the spyhole, as I always do and see an individual wearing a high visibility jacket and carrying a notebook. Odd, I didn't recall requesting such an individual. I inquire as to what his business is with me and there I see it. Out of the corner of my eye, the unmistakable orange lever: the nerf gun. I must say, however, that his costume would have been rather deceiving to the untrained eye.

I then begin to ask some more pointed questions before finally revealing that I know of his intentions. My one regret is not ambushing him, however, my primary range weapon is seeking maintenance and a my pen would have been no match. In any case, I remain to live for another kill

Axl N' Rose and The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had agreed that they will not be having carrots for the foreseeable future.
Raspberries and pistachio, however, is an entirely different matter.
Today, for example, they discovered a wonderful ice cream shop that sold ice creams spiked with magic potion. Axl N' Rose had a pumpkin flavored one before, but it took her on a really bad trip. So this time they had to try something else. Raspberry for dancing, pistachio for beer.

The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named liked raspberry. The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named also liked dancing. She took a bite and immediately met a violin that played itself in the middle of the street. It played techno.
"Did I dance?" The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was out of breath when the ice cream wore off.
"Absolutely no way people could recognize that was you." Axl N' Rose assured The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was now very concerned.

Axl N' Rose's brewery experiment finally worked last week and she was super excited about it. Pistachio ice cream in, she dragged The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named through thorns and bushes all the way to a weirdly shaped stone building where funny smells came out.
"Best brewery in town!" Axl N' Rose announced.
"Are you sure this is not the pistachio talking?" The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was skeptical. "What kind of brewery names themselves [REDACTED]?"
"…The confused kind?" Axl N' Rose was not sure either. They decided to give a knock anyway.
An oddly sober-looking woman in smart dress walked by, eyed them suspiciously before going in from an opening next to them.
"Oh THAT's the door! This is a window." The-Witch-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named said.
"You're right, that was the pistachio talking." Axl N' Rose agreed.
"In that case, let's go back and get our toads sorted."
Still a wonderful afternoon.

Well. It's been a helluva day, lemme tell ya. First off, I off a guy thats been hanging around my block, up to no good. I mean seriously; being incompetent in my backyard and not expecting a delivery of lead in the throat? That's really Tolkein the p*ss. Once I topped Gustavius Unwieldius with the help of a friendly dame - she has a face like an angel and a soul like a flick-knife - I made my way to the door of Bambi. 'Cept it wasn't his door in the end. I knock, fists full of anger and a shootin iron, and a lil old lady answers instead. Never heard of the bloke. That's just outta line ya know. Lettin some other guy take the hit for your own problems. So I contacted the big boys. When you live in this labrynth of a city it's a bad idea to break the unwritten rules. Aaanyways, I'm hacked off, and my bloods up, so I drag my ass all the way downtown to Lord Farquaard's shack. Its locked fast. I reckon I coulda busted a window, but hey,I don't wanna inconvenience no poor upstandin, bystanding folk. So , havin walked an talked and shot my darn lungs out I head to the nearest waterin hole. And wadda ya know. Outta da blue Ploughman shows up. A pal a mine points him out. Now I'm not one to shoot a booze hound at a bar, nor deny him his last drink, so I waits till he's at the back of the bar, empty bottle in hand, and give him a friendly handshake. On the head. With my electrified warhammer. His eyes cross, and he slumps to the floor. I guess some folks can't take a lil kick with their licor. But although I cleaned up the mazey alleyways of this urban labrynth a lil more today, theres still plenty of folks out there who need.... a good, hard, terminal Tolkein to....

"The faint heart averted many feet and many a tear, in our opposed path to persevere."

-A minor poet for a minor obstacle

-----------------------------------------------

Alright Haruto Amo... I'll look into this problem of yers. After all, last I heard, when you have a 'problem', it usually ends up being one of important, interesting or fun.

I guess I'll start with some of the more recently afflicted with this condition. The lot of em weren't in, so it made it real easy to go through their things, see if I could find anything that'd tell me more about their sleepless condition.

Speaking of which, you'd be amazed how well a combination of alchemy, magic and adrenaline can keep a person awake. Anyway, long story short, I've got some ideas... nothing concrete yet, but I'll work on it...

Sure as hell is more satisfying than playing the gobbo's game the way he wants me to.

---------------------------------------

Mine and nobody else's

-Alder Skrilth, the dreamless adventurer.

"Who are you to change this world?

Silly boy,

No one needs to hear your words...

Let it go."

A slumbering assasin is the best assasin. For tonight's kill, another incompetent scum. After a quick knock on his door, there was no responce. We waited. Nothing. Just as we were about to leave, we heard movement and Sweet 'n' Sauron opened up! Totally off guard from his sleep, he stuck his head out. And thats when he was shot. Not the most flamboyant of kills, but one more kill for Marlo. One less assasin. The pool of assasins grows smaller.

I woke up at a good hour this morning, just as the sun was rising up: the perfect time to go for a hunt. Some pigeon's eggs I caught the other day served as my breakfast and then I quickly left, not forgetting my red cape nor my trusted knife. It was freezing, but the coat kept me warm as I dashed through the streets on my way to stalking some prey.

I arrived in the same exact spot as the other time, without getting lost not even once. I looked around and confirmed that this was a terrible place to hunt. There was no cover whatsoever, so open and so exposed. The wind was carrying my scent all over the place for potential beastly threats to sniff. No trees were wide enough to hide me, yet not one was short enough for me to climb either. The brick-stone fence surrounding the house, on the other hand, was not tall enough to shield my presence. I was totally visible to everyone in a mile's radius and to make things worse I stood out because of my looks. This wasn't the place where a young girl should have been strolling through, this dark side alley where even the morning sun was too shy to shine.

I swung back and forth on my tiptoes as I watched a figure leave the house of my target. She wasn't the right one, but her presence still stirred up alive the predatory side of me. I walked, up and down the road, trying to figure out where to conceal myself, but there was no sensible choice I could make. Not even a bush or a fallen tree. Could I sneakily hide behind my finger and pretend to be a tree trunk?. Ahi! I exclaimed as i pricked my fingers with thorns. This wasn't even the correct area where good berries grew!

A man walked out next, I heard noises and walked closer. He didn't know me, so I tried to make some conversation with him. It didn't go well as he denied that my target even lived there and directed me to another house which had a much scarier look, with spiders and giant spider-webs hanging from the ceiling.

And in all of this, I was growing hungry again.

My ears picked up an alerting sound and I spied on the next person to come out. It was not who I wanted to see, as her age was much older than what I was expecting. Sighing, I tried to shake off my nervousness by walking down the path again. After about fifteen minutes, I decided to leave. This was inconclusive and left me dangerously exposed all the time. I should perhaps come back when it's dark once more, that way the lack of natural covers on the road won't be an issue.

I really needed to deliver cookies to a friend this morning, who just happened to live in the same general area as Ferdinand Topham. I thought this would be a good chance to up my kill count.

So we sat around for a bit and had a catch up, when suddenly my friend uttered a phrase he would never normally do, and I knew something was very wrong.

I turned around and saw that Ferdinand Topham was walking past, and so I conjured an enchanted killer teacup, which struck his head. Upon impact, his body disintegrated. That was far from normal. Inspecting the remains, my friend and I realised that this man had been a walking corpse since yesterday...

After giving my friend the cookies, I decided to skip merrily towards a location containing a target and some others, so merrily in fact that I forgot to turn off initially, so hurried back and waited for around 15 minutes. None of them appeared to be early risers, and so when it became apparent none would be leaving at this time, I left.

Treachery abound, and not just by that rat of a knight, Marlo. The monster I stalked Dovregubben for months, finally died today. He was betrayed by those he called friends. "Friends", no, this monster would have prefered to call them "future meals" no doubt. It was easy. A village girl told me that the beast liked to frequent a certain inn at certain times. I waited there and stabbed him in the back as he held the door open for me. With another one biting the dust, the labyrinth gets smaller. But there are still plenty of creatures abound, friends or foe.

Alder Skrilth, the magician. Balrog "The Less Intimidating" Baggins, the demon. Lucifer, the lord of the ninth hell. You have all captured my imagination. I look forward to meeting you in the field... And M, the one who slayed a knight of mine. I wonder how long it will be before we meet.

-Lord Farquaard

Unfortunately, Saturday night was not as successful as I had hoped it would be as no useful information could be extracted from the lips of a drunk man. Even worse, my newest recruit has not been very responsive after that, leaving me completely in the dark and seeking new leads. Ah, but such crucial time doesn't yet find me unprepared to face the consequences of failing my task. I have my fail-safe procedures set in place just for occasions like this and it was about time to test them. Or so I thought.

Tired of waiting for him and with the deadline looming on me, I decided to contact one of my old friends, a fellow I was introduced to a while ago. His deductive skills and his attention to detail impressed me very much and qualified him as the perfect candidate to bring along on a hunting session. Especially given his wild, unsettling stare, which I am sure would appal even the most courageous of the enemies. Thus, we met outside of his base and rode together down impervious roads until we reached our first destination. We dismounted and proceeded by foot since the path had become narrower and much more twisted there. Our feet creaked on the ground as we went around in circles, looking for a door which wasn't there. I don't know what kind of otherworldly magic confounded our senses, but as a matter of fact after more than fifteen minutes of walking back and forth we still had to find the entrance. No matter how hard I tried, my locating spell kept failing. We hypothesised Brutalitops (the Magician)'s residence must have been hidden behind powerful magical shields as the only gate we could approach, which was locked, seemed to lead into a house of madness instead.

We opted for leaving: there was no point in staying any longer as we could not break the incantation. We were not done yet, though: I reconnoitred the surrounding area with a quick spell, locating the whereabouts of two more targets who were not too far from us. We moved then, up the road and through the crowd which passed us as if we were ghosts, unseen and undetected. We sneaked inside a castle of serpentine corridors and twisting towers. Crows standing on turrets mounted by pinnacles stared at us from above with a malevolent gaze.

'This way,' I said. But it was the wrong direction and we run into a dark figure which greeted us in surprise. I didn't take any chance, arcane words reflexively left my mouth in rapid succession before I could stop them and she had no time to speak, no time to react. 'Where's [ACCOMODATION REDACTED]?'

And she replied, without even realising that her lips were moving. Satisfied, we left for the place, walking through ancient enchantments and arching vaults. Her directions were not enough as a barrier seemed to prevent us from approaching further deep into the pompous fortress.

'Quand vous en aurez fini avec lui, je ferais bien de ce chateau ma propre base,' my companion commented as we were inspecting the spires from below.

'Je l'envisagerai, mais je pense deja a faire de ce lieu mon quartier general,' I replied with a sinister smirk.

Confident of my abilities, I walked up to a group of boorish guards and kindly invited them to escort us through. It worked, it didn't take long for us to reach the door which led into the target's dormitories. We went up the spiralling staircase and into the darkest of towers. It was tall enough to make the stony tiles in the outside court look like tiny crushable squares. His door was the last one on the top floor. My accomplice knocked, twice, while I stood behind him in a defensive pose, ready to strike. No reply ever reached us, as the only sound was the echo of his knuckles bruising the door reverberating against the walls.

With defeated hearts we walked downstairs again, my brain in a frenzy as I realised that we were short on time, I was short on time.

'Que cette lumi�¨re qui filtre entre les feuilles est hypnotique,' he whispered as we walked past the footpath and I waved my hand in annoyance. This wasn't the time to lose ourselves in useless sentimentalism. Not when Damocles sword was hanging by a worn-out thread only a few centimetres above my head. Oh the power and its perils, why did I ever succumb to such Fate?

As I was thus focused on some introspection, we slipped past the next gate rather easily, much to my surprise. Thorns grew on the red walls of the building and the green foliage adorning the brick house gave it an ethereal look, as if it had just come out of a dream. We walked past the garden gate, so much vegetation taking over the metal bars that one might as well assume the gardens had turned into a full-grown jungle due to negligence. A spectacle of red roses was the only thing which seemed to be cared for by whoever was in charge of that place. My accomplice stopped to admire them as I examined the place to find us a route.

Then I saw him, a miserable young boy running at full speed, running from I don't know what but by his looks it was certainly terrifying. I stepped onto the path, placing myself between him and salvation. If he wanted to live, he had to collaborate. Luckily, he did not even attempt to resist and willingly guided us in the correct corner of what looked like a haunted mansion.

'Puis-je changer ma requete et demander plutot cette maison en partage? Elle est bien plus attrayante que la mienne,' my ally said.

'Bien suur, cela�  me semble un prix parfaitement raisonnable,' I convened. That was no time to discuss the details of payment; we had more pressing matters to attend.

'Apres vous.' He held the door open for me as I stepped inside. My eyes adjusted to the lack of light immediately and I scanned the names on the wall for the right one. Again we went up, to another corridor, another door. Again, just as before he went to knock while I waited, weapon loaded in my hand. No one opened. Not one sound came from the other side and as the seconds stretched into minutes, I came to accept the dreadful truth.

'Encore une impasse. La chance ne vous sourit guere aujourd'hui, Monsieur Rumple.' He pointed out as if I hadn't noticed yet.

Reluctantly, I followed him out, gritting my teeth. My spine was covered in sweat because of the tension's build-up and I was ready to snap. We parted ways soon after that; I thought it was for the best. Now I am in my own lair, while I write down what might be my last message. I am afraid I already foresee my entire plan crumble into nothingness as the gloomy sunset of my life draws closer. Regrets, I have many and I can only hope Death won't find me home when She comes looking for me asking for a price I am not ready to pay.

"The name The Shadow Broker will resurface again..."

That it did. I was honoured to have been appointed as the successor to this title, and have been meticulously gather data on fellow wanderers of the labyrinth. It was today when my additional training, that of spontaneous recognition, really came into play.

I had been scouting out another accommodation, and was waiting to cross the road, when the incompetent Emile Ward passed me. He was with a friend and, since said friend was walking, was cycling very slowly. He paid me no heed, and so, after I had let him put some distance between us, followed him to his accommodation.

As I predicted, he was hanging around talking to this same friend, and luckily for me, another friend just joined, further lessening the chance he would notice me before it was too late. So I got a bit closer, pulled out my pistol, and shot him in the head.

There are three distinct posibilites for why I was unable to kill my target tonight.

The first is that they may have anticipated me, or someone with similar intentions, and were able to sneak to their destination unharmed.

The second is may information may have been inadequate. They might look different or the event may have been somewhere that I hadn't anticipated.

The third is that they were never going to the event, and I wouldn't have been able to kill them anyway.

K felt that he might have crossed a line there. For three days M remained silent, no sighting from the servants he sent to replenish his weapon supply, no lights coming from his window at late nights as before, no detailed report of his last mission other than that slip of parchment which was signed, worryingly, "slave". Sure, he often went on reconnaissance for days, carrying with him little food or gold, but not after such a high-profile assassination.

Perhaps he was trying to drown his grief in work. Or perhaps he was, consciously or subconsciously, trying to be self-destructive by potentially exposing himself. Well he's too good and too diligent for that. If K believed in one thing in M, that would be his abidance to the Code.

Yet this was the one thing K wanted to break in M. So far. True, it was the Code that secured him M's loyalty; yet, it was precisely the obligatory nature of it that prevented him from winning M's heart.

Righteousness and rule-abidance. He was the opposite of those, and thus they fascinated him. M was the priceless specimen for his little experiment, or rather, battle with the order of the world. He must proceed carefully.

On the evening of the third day M returned, his coat wet and covered in mud. Without a word he went straight to bed, and didn't get up until past lunch time next day. K sent over the usual over-warming note demanding answers, and got a fairly plain and objective report on a recon tour in the ancient Freecity of Tseibruken. Signed, again, "your slave, M".

K sighed. He was indeed pushing too far. M was only just beginning to open his emotions up to him, and in his last mission report even showed him genuine concerns and respect (perhaps? a little?). Now he's back on that distant and prescribed reverence, but worse: without sarcasm.

"Told you to get rid of that sadism if you actually want to keep him. " A sarcastic voice somewhere in his head said.

"Shut up. I know what I'm doing." Well, he wished. He could only hope that he didn't break M. After all, he got him on a one-off bargain. Fool sold him for 30.

Dear Salazar,

I am writing to thank you deeply for your brooch. Not only has it clearly prevented my mind being attacked by the goblins, hence the words I write remain semi-legible for now, but its calming effect on my mind has been an entirely unexpected but quite welcome benefit, and it was lovely for you to take the time to add the extra enchantment given how traumatic the last few weeks have been.

Once again, another student had to be dealt with today, Silver Fox. She had fallen under the spell of the goblins, though in the early stages it was clear to see. I stopped off at her living quarters at the North of the complex, and she let me in unsuspiciously, since I was also carrying some Bertie Botts' beans to reward another student in the same quarters (two goblins, one stone, am I right?). I spoke to her and her friends in the kitchens, though their fireplace had stopped working, and so they were stood around unsure of a solution. I'm never good with fires, you know that, so I couldn't suggest anything - but I digress as always. Silver Fox was conversing quite happily about her Muggle roots in Manchester since it's something we had in common, but even as she spoke of my hometown I could see the darkness, the hatred lingering in her eyes. She had to be destroyed.

I don't know what to do about the other two who saw the flash as I used a quickly-enchanted knife lying on the table to purify her, but with sufficient explanation they should be won over. I delivered the beans to the other student (away playing Quidditch probably), then I left, taking the husk of Silver Fox's soul with me for purification. The parents will have to be informed too - but I do feel so much more in control of things since your brooch. Thanks again.

I hope you enjoy what's left of your visit to the Continent, and I'll see you soon.

Best Wishes,

Rowena

8:53AM, Redacted College. Standing in the rain for a while, I was beginning to fear my bad luck streak would never run out. But then, out of the building emerged Hutmann, the Prematurely Obliterated of the Western Marshlands. This was it. He went to his bike, but was stabbed in the chest before he could unlock it.

Barry has got himself a kill.

My scouts have identified another afflicted with dark magic that draws goblin hordes towards them, in a large village that is usually free of trouble. I knew that, should a goblin horde attack, it would be devastating.

I ventured there to find this unfortunate this morning, but people who live here are a lot more difficult to track down than elsewhere. I missed her the first time. I then stumbled upon the village noticeboard, which pointed me somewhat in her direction.

So I returned later, hoping to catch her, but it was here that my unfamiliarity with this village showed. I had been in the wrong place, and while I found the right room, I wasn't able to track her down as the room was empty. I scouted areas where I hoped people were likely to congregate, but there was no sign of her there either.

What do I say about the Labyrinth? Too many incompetents, not enough kills to go around.

In time, you will know what it's like to lose your competence. To have a simple goal and to fail all the same.

The Labyrinth will be set right. Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it's here. Or should I say... I am.

Alder Skrilth, I don't know what you did but something seems to be working, I've been more invigorated than before! With a spring in my step, I attended a society I found to be frequented by an incompetent. I spent a pleasant evening there, but there was no sign of my intended victim.

Went to an open mic night at a local tavern which was incredible and Waldo was absolutely killing it on the piano, just like I would later kill him. I've never seen anyone go from megalovania to fur Elise before. It was fantastic but I had a job to do as an assassin so I stabbed him with my trusty penknife, which I lost later that night due to it cutting a hole in my pocket and me not being alert enough to notice. Still alive though so who's the real winner here. Barry is well and truly back

Lord Farquaard. My lord. My lord. What are you thinking!? What is your plan!? Why would you let me go free???

We start the hunt with an easy kill. The incompetent Bob Dole awaits our righteous call! We knocked thrise on his door, but to our realisation, he leaves his chambers unguarded! The Lord entered his chambers, but Bob Dole was ready. He held his sidearm, ready for any attack. But he didn't kill Farquaad right way. He waited to ask his buisness, but, we, as well trained assasins, we ready for any line of enquiry. Lord Farquaad replied with an excuse (which shall remain disclosed), but to Bob Dole's surprise, the sound of his friends name court him off guard. He left his chambers to investigate, and at that point, i used my trusted sword and stabbed Bob Dole. Another assasin dead.

Now, onto the tale Lord Farquaard. We had the opportunity to take the life of a certain Brutalitops (the Magician). After doing so, we were left to ourselves. With no one to witness the event. Walking infront was not a good idea. The Lord was ready with his crossbow, i could hear the clicking of the mechanisms inside. Thats when i turned around to face him. The two of us, with our side arms and wepons ready. "So" he calls. "Here we are". But he knew, just as well as i did, that if he made a move, so would i. It was a stale mate. We both backed away slowly, however, what he did not realise is that i was only carring a sword. After 4 paces, i had no reach left. He couldve killed me there and then. Maybe he shouldve, but next time... there will be no next time. It will be either me, or him. And i will prevail.

Marlo, Marlo, Marlo. Today was my chance to be rid of you after you agreed to come hunting with me. I do not know what made you do so (maybe for the chance to kill me?).

Our hunt began with the visit to the lair of Bob Dole. I was surprised at how unguarded the place was. A sloppy fairytail creature he must be. The door to the lair was open. The monster roared for us to enter. Forboding sank to my stomach as I walked in. The beast clutched a crude crossbow in his claws. Asking for my business, I claimed to know another that lived nearby. He looked at me funny, recognising the name. I apologised for disturbing him and left. He saw me to the door, maybe to make sure I did not try anything. But his fatal error was stepping through the threshold. Marlo's sword struck true. The monster died. After visiting the lair of another on the Goblin King's list and having no way to get past the enchanted door (damned magicians), we headed to another lair. I killed Brutalitops (the Magician) with ease. This next creature was oblivious to our nature. It did not speak the language of men, and as they opened the gates to his abode, Marlo whispered to me. He recognised this creature. From where, I did not know. I stabbed Brutalitops (the Magician) in the back as he held the gate open for us.

As we left the beast gurgling on the ground, the awkward silence settled in. Marlo walked in front. Maybe he was too confident. I drew my crossbow, pointing it to his back. My finger quivered on the trigger. This was it. Suddenly he turned. His crossbow met mine.

"So," I said, "here we are."

He narrowed his eyes at me.

In the time that my bolt would hit him, his bolt would have left his crossbow. This he knew too.

We backed away slowly, never turning our backs. And just like that, he disappeared. I never took Marlo to be a magician. Guess I was wrong. Curses. I was too slow. For old times sake, I wanted to say a few words before I took his life. Next time I will not hesitate. I must rid the Duloc of these beasts.

- Lord Maximus Farquaard

It had been a busy morning, I was navigating the maze to find a friend who needed to practice her psycho-analysis, and as I left, I saw a sadly untouchable inco. This reminded me of another place I might find one, which was very close by.

I thought I might be a bit too late, and was on my way to leave, when I ran into another friend. He was heading back to this hall, and so I walked with him and had a catch up. I decided to wait around for a few minutes and, to my surprise, All About Dat Bass arrived with some friends.

I drew Pleiades and ran to him. The wailings of the ghost of JV came far too late to save him, and I thrust my sword through his back.

So, a lot of my training in the art of death seems to have been for nothing. I say that, at least I killed the guy.

I was there with a friend, talking all sorts, the lights flickering on and off because we stood too still, when eventually Polsoc left his room. He asked us where we were from. I said the first location that popped into my head (because, you know, where we were wouldn't have been the least suspicious and most believable choice at all, no sir).

He turned to leave and I drew my staff. Took a bit longer than I would've liked but when I cast my spell he was much too close to escape so I guess all's well that ends well? He died after all, and I didn't.

It is time for us to make our move! Prudence Lad, with me!

Prudence Lad: Are we sure that's a good idea?

He made a valid point... I, Patient Man, would wait for my moment.

Sometimes, bands of strange people from far away out of bounds zones visit the land to try and recruit whoever they can, luring hordes of us in with exotic food. While at such a thing this evening, I discovered the recently incompetent Trillian. Fashioning a penknife since I lost my last one, I went up and stabbed him in the side. Later, I saw Balrog "The Less Intimidating" Baggins there also and did the same. It turns out that instead of going after targets, it's easier to wait for them to come to you.

I've been doing some primary research into a difficult person to track. I didn't find her, but I do know some places not to expect her. My net narrows, and it will catch her soon.

I had just delivered some cake to a friend when I saw that, in a forgotten corner of the labyrinth, I may be able to get a kill. So I made my way there. the road was long, but the place easy to find. I waited, but no-one showed. It was getting dark, and I wasn't keen to stay in such a deserted place for too long on my own, so I left after 20 minutes.

Diary,

I can trust you, right? Maybe there is no one else left in this world that I can trust.

I think I am being followed. Wherever I go, the shadows seem to move with me and these glowing eyes stare from the darkness. They seem to move around the corner of my sight, staying just out of reach, no matter how hard I pursue them. Are they hunting me? What do they want? If I could just find them, talk to them, maybe we could come to an agreement. Can these creatures (or creature?) be reasoned with, or do they just want death?

I feel I am unable to stay in one place for too long, fearing the shadows and the threatening creatures that they carry. The original reason I entered this place, the competition, the Goblin King, I've forgotten all of it in my bid for survival.

I've started to make provisions, gathering resources and information. I can't tell you everything but you'll see Diary, death will not be coming for me yet... which leads to today. There was something I needed, blood, lots of blood. Arthur Zachary Helious was unprepared, and now he is dead.

I waited, hoping to take out Bruh-cat too, but the shadows taunted me, making me doubt myself over and over until I fled, finding a new corner of the Labyrinth to retreat to. However, now is not the time to hide. Now is the time to keep moving, after all, much more blood will need to be spilled for my plan to work.