The Assassins' Guild - Week 1 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 1 NewsThere are 10 players in the game. This number may or may not be in decimal. Try to make it 1 player.
Just went with Matthew Morgan to kill Owen Cundy: Matt, perhaps foolishly, knocked unarmed and did not step back. He was immediately stabbed, but I gunned the room's defender down to avenge my accomplice and friend.
Alas, A Malicious Pastry is no more.
Just before noon today, as I was preparing to embark on the perilous journey to the New Museum site, I felt a sudden onset of paranoia. Looking out my spyhole I saw an unfamiliar figure waiting outside my door with something shimmering in his hand. Wondering whether I could wait him out, I stayed in my room until I was pushing the limit of being able to get to lectures on time. When he pushed his EPOS card under the door and asked if I would let him in to retrieve it, I took my chance, opened the door and stabbed him in the gizzards. My fatal mistake was opening the door too wide, as his accomplice revealed himself from round a corner and ended my life with a pistol shot in the head.
Storm:Wolf patiently followed a pack of large, bipedal game, always watching but never seen. Eventually his insane wolf skillz struck the inevitable jackpot and a lone creature straggled from its pack. Storm:Wolf began to follow at a lupine lope and despite the creature's attempt to get within the dubious safety of its comrades, Storm:Wolf attacked, hamstringing his prey and bringing to the ground. As the creature fell, Storm:Wolf saw the words 'Zaphod Beeblebrox' on a tag through its right ear...
Having been a warcraft rogue I, naturally I prefer daggers. After successfully booking formal hall in order to stalk my target, I waited an hour in order to kill. My bloodthirst was fulfilled when I sliced the throat of Mark Brown in the doorway of the JCR.
Today at about 14:00 I discovered a parcel in my pigeon hole. I was deeply
suspicious as I was not expecting anything to arrive, and I could feel an
oddly shaped object inside. I opened it carefully and slid out the note
while keeping the object in the parcel. The note informed me that the
package contained a black mamba and that if I was reading it then I must,
automatically, already be dead. I thought this an odd claim for 3 reasons:
1) I had taken care to ensure that the black mamba could not escape the
package as I opened it.
2) I had read up on my assassin rules and was aware that indirect weapons
had been removed from the game.
3) The note informed me that the mamba's bite would kill in 10 minutes 100%
of the time, and not 10 seconds had passed since I opened the parcel. I
subsequently drank a glass of water labelled 'Black Mamba Anti-Venom' well
before my promised 10 minutes was up, just to be on the safe side.
I assume this parcel came from an assassin. The only other alternative is
that it was one of Nick's tricks, but I find that highly unlikely since he
signed a pledge never to try and kill me with a Black Mamba again.
Also, whoever sent it, if you're reading this report then thanks for the
snake :)
Today an attempted kill was made on me by mail. An attack animal was mailed to me in a envelope (at least I am pretty sure of it judging by the weight and feel of the package, lack of stamp and poor handwriting) so I haven't opened it. Could you please inform whoever attempted this kill that it was unsuccessful and the animal in now incarcerated in a quality street tin covered in gaffer tape. If necessary I could open the envelope and avoid contact with said attack animal in order to confirm my suspicion but I imagine that the killer would have informed you already.
Indirect weaponry such as stuff left in people's pigeonholes is not allowed. I believe I've found the culprit and have given them a warning. I will not be so generous from now on. I suggest that you all (re-)familiarise yourselves with the game rules and weaponry rules.
I was on my way out at 5pm today when someone behind me called my name. Looked round to see someone I knew, but why were they wielding a watergun?
Oh, right, that's why.
DEAD.
I located and made several visits to her room this afternoon but her door was not distinguished by name from that of her neighbour so I continued to lurk. I was readying my weapon in the adjacent kitchen and attempting to look like I was cooking when someone left from one of the two doors; we shared a momentary uncertain glance before she set off down the stairs (she later told me I looked a little like her housemate). I thought I had recognised her but couldn't be sure in the dim light. I followed her down the staircase, keeping out of sight but unable to go quietly because the stairs were old and creaky and I was wearing monster snow boots. I caught up with her as she rounded a corner and called out her name - experienced assassins probably don't do that but I didn't want to kill an innocent by mistake. When she turned around I closed the distance between us and made a bang kill. It wasn't intended to be a bang kill but my gun jammed at the critical moment so I had to change my plans. And I forgot to make a Portal reference; so much wasted potential. Still, I had hit my mark. I have tasted blood.
As we were coming back from our dates I invited him over for a drink. As I handed him my guitar to sing me a lullaby, I also handed him my blade by implanting it in his vocal cords. His death was swift and sweet. The parting words still haunt me at night: "May you ROT in hell!"
I approached the location that my information had led me to somewhat nervously, something that wasn't massively helped by the name "Wake Up Screaming". I went on up and told the attendees that I was a new person on the Metal scene to try and explain my complete lack of relevant knowledge. An hour or so later I saw my target, Ben Webb approaching the entrance. A glance around the room showed that none were looking in my direction and the music was loud enough to muffle my gun so I fired twice into the back of his head.
The Umpire would like to add that he has absolutely no sympathy for bronies.
The MI6 mainframe is out of action due to budget cuts unfortunately so I was forced to track down my target using facebook instead. I discovered his appearance and was deciding how I would gather further information when to my surprise I saw him walk past me during a lecture! I was not completely sure that I had the right man so I followed him closely and eavesdropped on the conversation he was having with a friend. It was about pokemon. That decided it. Target or not he did not deserve to live. I cut him like a budget deficit and he quickly bled to death. In his dying moments he managed to confirm that he was in fact my target as I had thought. Well that's one less student stealing the tax payers' hard earned money, Gideon will be pleased.
The unknown assailant crept up behind me and drew his weapon. Upon announcing his presence, he thrust his knife forwards. My quick reactions took me to leap out of range. However, the road was crowded with people, and I ran out of places to flee. I attempted to draw my own knife, however, before I could successfully manage this, my assailant had recovered, and attacked again, this time, successfully. Thus, I die.
Following a peaceful anatomy lecture, I stabbed CK repeatedly, as she was dying she seemed to be saying something like "what is going on? what's with the ruler?" Then on seeing the bloodied knife, she was either lost for words or no longer had the capacity to breathe....
Another day, another hit; Brendan Clifford is out of the game. I was heading into town between 10 and 11 this morning when I saw my target emerge from the college opposite. We exchanged a greeting and the target, blissfully unaware, moved trustingly towards me. Too easy, you say? Nothing's too easy for this assassin! I dispatched the target with a knife between the ribs, then continued to the bank. Because in the Guild, we're all about ruthless efficiency.
I, Manfred Von Karma, have put numerous rounds from my dual rubber band pistols into one Toby Crisford. He made a valiant attempt at escape after I collared the aforementioned in his local alehouse/JCR. Despite his prolonged efforts and his friends in hot pursuit, I shot him dead and left him with a Christian tract so that when he reaches the heavenly gates, St Peter will look on him more favourably. I then made my escape, playing my personal assassination melody, Objection! (2001).
MVK
I was relaxing in King's College Bar at around 21:00 when a stranger approached and asked the one word question 'Toby?' I can only assume he learned my appearance from the facebook account I so foolishly left public. Time seemed to go into slow motion as I processed what was going on, and seemingly without conscious thought my legs were taking me away from this new threat as fast as they could, while my arms fumbled for the knives that I always carry on my person. Sadly, neither my arms nor legs were fast enough, as my assassin was armed with an elastic band gun. He fired several shots in quick succession and one of them hit its mark.
Being a psychotic embodiment of an element metaphysically associated with death, disease and decay takes its toll, so it was with some relish that I consumed a plate of beef curry. Then I saw someone who (thanks to my Lore speciality in Murder) I recognised to be an assassin coming towards me. Unfortunately, the rules of the game forbid me from simply forcing my smoky form into their lungs to kill them, and I didn't have time to assume my terrifying draconic form, so I went for my knife instead. Too slowly.
Turns out a pen with knife written on it is sufficient to kill a Lesser Elemental Dragon of Smoke. Who knew?
I espied my target through the murky buttery and readied my knife. The target prepared to fight valiantly probably but my knife was already between his shoulder blades. Business is good.
In the year 220 of our glorious Republic, it so happened that the sub-committee for temporal affairs (a subsidiary of the 'acts of god' council), issued the 220 End Times White Paper, noting the utmost urgency of bringing the apocalypse about before the elections.
Alas, however, the functionaries of the Directorate General for Doomsday (DGD) took issue with the policy document. Union officials reacted angrily to suggestions in the press that, upon the termination of the world, the DGD could be dissolved and its members moved to other departments with inferior pension arrangements. In the words of one outraged civil servant, "At this stage any talk of us being 'finished' is nonsense. Even after the End Times have been instituted, we will still require talented individuals to monitor and assess the aftermath, in order to further improve further implementations".
Thus it was that I, a mere sub-deputy-under-secretary to the Department of Industrial Dispute Mitigation found myself on Thalaspi Pluviôse at 14:40 PMT-9'22'' (Paris Mean Time retarded by 9 minutes and 22 seconds) inside [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE], ready to commence the process of individualised End Time Delivery.
Upon submission of a suitably feeble excuse (approved for use by the Commission for Expedited Public Service Redundancies), the first individual upon my list spent a while preparing for my arrival in magnificence. Upon receiving word that the door was on the latch, I entered to a darkened scene of total desolation.
At this point, realising that springing obvious traps was not part of my job description, I withdrew to consult with my union representative.
Addendum: Alas, it seems The Chocolatier's removal is required for completion of part 1.1.1.a of the plans outlined in the White Paper. Further attempts will be made, but this time I will be paid the appropriate overtime compensation as mandated by the Use of Civil Servants as Offensive Weapons Act (195).
I was just on my way out when a knock came on the door, being in a rush I asked who it was to see if I could assist without having to go to the door. It turned out to be a young man looking for a key to the music practice room. Being a master Chocolatier of high standing I of course have a copy of every key and so invited the stranger in. When they didn't enter I checked my security footage and noted that it was not a budding musician at the door but an assassin here to kill me. Shame they didn't try harder.
It was my first attempt. My first chance to prove to myself, to my family, to my friends, that I had chosen the right profession. As I lingered menacingly outside my target's room, I asked myself that searching question that all assassins must ask at one time or another. Was I ready to kill a man?
Well...no. My target was a few seats down from me at dinner. And yet he lives. Time to give up the dream of being a professional killer and go back to fluffy-attack-animal farming?
At 10:31 did enter the abode of one Melanie Mertesdorf with intent to locate said person's room to further plan my approach. Not wanting to arouse suspicions I causally strode past the room, poised at each step as if waltzing. Hence I made the almost fatal blunder, put a step out of time, tripped over my left feet, as I had passed the residence in question a lady backed out of another room and spied me. Spotted at this, the crucial lift, I hied me hence to return to the door and pretend to knock softly and thus restoring my purpose and innocence. Thus performing a double bluff quickstep.
Lo! But this lady seemed intent on blowing my cover, opening her mouth she cried out, "There is someone here to see you". Instantly adjusting my stance I moved into a foxtrot moving swiftly toward the kitchen to which this voice had been projected. Then with a silent curse as my elastic suspenders failed to catch upon the trigger of my elastic suspender rifle, I drew my cardboard knife, spinning away from my dancing partner shadow. As I performed a grand jete into the kitchen, I dropped my morsel of elastic at the feet of my would be victim. Attempting to feign her own innocence or harmlessness she said "Oh, Help" as we began what would be our last tango. It did impress upon me the true nature of her surprise when she broke my dagger in half as it stabbed her through the chest. Clutching at it with desperate hands, she asked "Have you killed me yet?". Cursing the loss of my best dagger I discarded its broken form, retrieved my elastic band and made myself scarce, pausing only to thank the lady who had so unwittingly ended a budding career. In the end, tango for the dance, and ramba you than me, Cha-Cha-Ciao.
Verdandi is, as of this morning (around 10.30 am) deceased. She was stabbed using a dagger by Weir_Doe, whilst making breakfast. He was directed to the kitchen (from her empty, unlocked room) by the helpful bedder.
Sources have reported that one Alex Jackman, Fitzwilliam College would be attending a department dinner on the evening of February 10th. The mission was to intercept Alex Jackman, Fitzwilliam College on route from his dormitory to the location of the dinner. Unfortunately do to outside circumstances, my arrival at [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] was delayed. I maintained surveillance on Alex Jackman, Fitzwilliam College's room from approximately 5:55 to 6:10 but there were no signs of Alex Jackman, Fitzwilliam College. It would appear that my untimeliness has allowed Alex Jackman, Fitzwilliam College to slip through my grasps unscathed. A mistake that will not be made again...
The umpire notes that in reports involving live assassins, colleges are redacted and names replaced by pseudonyms to preserve anonymity.
Just to note that the assassin and acomplice who visited about half an hour ago have awful night vision considering I walked right past them on the way back from [insert place of work/lectures here]
They came back for more at 20:45. Shame they brought plastic cutlery to a gunfight.
An insistent knocking at the door. I was instantly on my guard. An attempt on my life had clearly begun. Checking through the peep-hole in my door I saw only Elena, a harmless Mathmo. Weapon drawn nevertheless, I opened the door. And was promptly assassinated by a friend of Elena's hiding beside my door.
Sad news from unknown college.. Today at 21.30 Madeleine (Maddie) Sharman was found dead. Doctors said that it was from natural causes, but I feel that it was not true (mainly because of big knife wound in her stomach which was definitely not self inflicted). But you may be sure I will not rest until the responsible person will be punished!
Having searched for the wretch for days, he finally surfaced unexpectedly in the college bar last night, reeking of foul vapours. Finding myself unarmed, I quietly extricated myself from the scene, returning with my (inflatable) blade gleaming in the moonlight. Stealing up behind him, I removed his head with a swift movement of my sword and gouged out his black heart for good measure, where upon he did plead for his life; but even if I had had mercy in my soul for such a beast, it was too late.
At 09:58 did approach Krazy, intending sport of a deadly kind. And truer words were never spoke: "But he didn't grace our table, in fact he wasn't there at all." Jethro Tull
Attempts made on Captain Molly Morgagni's life this Afternoon, but she was not in her room.
At about 4:30 today I went along to [UNSPECIFIED COLLEGE] to kill Meetball. I successfully got in, and waited outside his room. Eventually someone came along and he opened his door, at which point I drew my gun, aimed, pulled the trigger, and....nothing happened. My gun had jammed! Unbelievable! Couldn't have been at a worse time. My weapons failure gave my target enough time to grab a knife and chuck it at me. Gutted.
poor Andrew Buchan, he walked for ages, got lost on the campus, climbed the stairs, waited for 10 minutes, got his hopes up when his victim's neighbour just so happened to knock on his door, so after creeping out the friendly neighbour by skulking around in the kitchen, he aimed his gun and waited with his gun trained on the door, his victim opened the door, Andrew Buchan opened fire, too bad the bullet didn't leave his nerf gun, he got hit in the chest by a flying knife, it's strange, the gun worked every other time he pulled the trigger... that nerf gun will not have an easy evening
I can't be bothered to write an actual report for this.
Perhaps having noted that inside my room is the easiest place to kill me, The end is nigh returned but this time refrained from knocking and instead waited silently. A venerable tactic that might have worked were it not for the network of guards who patrol the area surrounding my room. A tip from one of these gave me The end is nigh's coveted element of surprise and allowed me to riddle him Choc full of bullets. Better luck next game.
At approximately 18:30 on the evening of Chiendent Pluviose, the body of one Benjamin Gill, a sub-deputy-under-secretary to the Department of Industrial Dispute Mitigation, was discovered sprawled on the floor outside the room of The Chocolatier.
A puddle of diluted blood was discovered under the deceased. A post mortem examination has not yet been completed, but it seems clear that the functionary was viciously assaulted by a water-bearing individual. The unknown assailant fled the scene, but is reported to have left behind a pair of knives. The [college redacted] authorities have been quick to defend their reputation, claiming that "the presence of two knives on the body of the deceased clearly indicated nefarious purposes".
However, the Minister in a statement, dismissed the accusations as a "mendacious smear", saying that the assailant had probably planted the weapons on the body of the deceased.
The Opposition has criticised the government for the death, claiming that the removal of the Impermeability Allowance had "reduced the water-resistance of state employees to dangerous levels", and called on the Minister to resign.
The local police and embassy officials have made a joint call for witnesses and information. His family has been informed.
Desperately trying to score a kill before the incobash, I set my sites on Nathaniel Williams. After spending more time than I'd like to admit stumbling around an unfamiliar college, my accomplice and I make our way to our prey's room. My accomplice knocks. No answer. We wait a moment, and she knocks again. Still no response. We wait a while. 15 minutes pass with no sightings. We leave and get waffles. How anticlimactic.
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