O battle-scarred Guildmistress!

I engaged and killed a redheaded tall person in the CMC lab. I left two taped nerf darts, black with orange tips, and Kennedy's grenade.

I then returned to Nourse, where I came up the stairs to third only to find myself in the middle of a firefight--Kristine and Reid firing from the lounge, and Grace, Berlinm, and Brucenta on the other end of the hallway. They retreated to the south stairwell, Kristine, Reid, and I advanced. I came down to second, and moved to the bottom end of the stairwell. I killed Berlinm and Brucenta with two perfectly placed nightfire shots to their respective breast and stomach, and engaged Grace at length.

Her tactical acumen was clearly evident, as she fired off salvos of rubber bands at my feet. Swiftly dodging each volley, I returned fire, missing her narrowly several times. Finally Kristine and Reid bravely threw themselves onto the unrelenting arrows of misfortune, sacrificing their love for the good of the Nourse cause. I ran swiftly up the stairs after she had unloaded her last rubber bands, and delivered the coup de Grace to her suddenly vulnerable chest.

Her screams of abject terror still resounding in my memory, I shared tales of triumphant adventure and misfortune with my largely now-deceased floormates, and retired to bed.

Yours,

--Aphyr

P.S. I'm sorry I killed your roommate. ;-)

P.P.S. If this tale of high adventure and glory did not satisfy your tastes and therein earn my pardon for accidental death of a civilian, O Guildmistress, then I fear my cause is lost indeed.

Our esteemed and glorious Guildmistress,

It is with a sad heart that I must convey to you this most recent news: I have been fatally shot in the side by an Enforcer. At breakfast in the LDC, I noticed a very wary Nate leaving the dining hall. I sat down at a far table, planning to don a mask after eating and induce the inevitable demise of one Mr. Morrow, his eponymous occasion having finally been reached.

Before being able to put my plans into action, however, Nate returned, wearing an ominous mask and wielding a fully loaded Maverick. I leapt to my feet, ran around to the upper dining hall, and drew my concealed lightsaber. Bullets were useless against this fearless oblivion personified, and as I blew through the heavy wooden doors at the entranceway, I felt his inhuman breath chilling the very air around me. Knowing my end was near, I duck, spun quickly, and made a cut across his arm, but alas, it was too late! His pistol had already fired, dispatching shards of deadly foam and rubber into my lungs.

The medics say it is too late for me: I wish these last words to reach you, O dark princess of carnage, and evoke within your paranoid heart echoes of the deftly vengeful spirit we Assassins all strive to attain.

Yours,

--Aphyr