“Suit yourself.” Sipley shrugged, kicking the dead body of her once-opponent.

She watched with sick fascination as Aldred interrogated the guy, but wished there was more blood, more torture. That would have brought back pleasant memories of when she didn’t have to think about problems, just had to do. Assassinating came so easy. Of course you had to think of how to get in, how to not be noticed, but it wasn’t as hard as it was in the beginning. Entry plans came to her easily, and it helped that her targets never had freaking force fields preventing her from getting her money. Sighing heavily, audible to anybody near her and a clear sign of her waning patience, she offered a potential solution.

“Is the force field just on the door? If it is, we could find a weak wall and push it in. It shouldn’t be as hard as a normal wall considering it’s a ruin, and ruins tend to be pretty old and frail. We could always try while the magic users are attempting to bring down that insufferable force field.” Sipley ran her hand through her greasy silver hair, thinking of a hot shower that she was in dire need of. She smirked as she added, “We could always have Aldred run into the wall and it’d probably collapse easy with all that useless armor he wears. What’s the point of it if you’re going to get hurt anyways, [i]darling[/i]”

It was quite easy to see that the earlier endearment didn’t settle well in Sipley’s gut and it was with pleasure that she spat it back out at him, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow with malicious glee. The assassin glanced pointedly at the arrow sticking out of Aldred’s leg, yet to be healed.