[IC] Laughing Coffin [Flamelord & Kirisuna]

[Kirisuna]

Floor 8,Minori had been here a handful of times at best, not enough to really remember much about the floor itself. But she had been sent here for a mission, one she had been gratefully hired for. It wasn't exactly an easy mission, nor was it one that was going to take her any short amount of time. But she had been paid a decent amount of money, and the person who hired her was somewhat of a good friend, so she took the job with earnest. So it was here on Floor 8 that she now was trying to track down her targets, hidden in the shadow of a tree as she spotted one of the many people on her list. She gripped the handle of her sword tightly as it was secured in it's scabbard on her waist. Her shield in her other hand, arm resting at her side. She sighed quietly, knowing that she wasn't going to kill her targets because that was not in her job description. She was merely to incapacitate them and bring them in, where they would be tried and locked up for their crimes.

Her hair blew in the breeze softly as she stood there, waiting for the opportune moment. But apparently she had missed her moment because a second later her target started moving. He darted between the trees heading for town. "Damn," Nori cursed quietly to herself as she took off running after him. Her stealth skill wasn't all that high, but it was at a decent level where he shouldn't have heard her close. Not unless his listening skill was even higher than her stealth one, which was completely possible. She quietly ran after him, hoping maybe she could gain some distance on him and catch him by surprise. But just before she managed to close the distance, he entered the town gates. She frowned as she walked a good distance behind him, not daring to let him out of her sights. It had been a while since she'd had an important job like this, and she knew she was rusty. She trailed after her target, who just happened to be one of the members of Laughing Coffin.

Laughing Coffin, otherwise known as one of the murder guilds here in SAO. They were usually revered with fear, because everyone knew that if you died in the game, you died in real life. Murder guilds were no joking matter here, and a lot of people wanted them taken out. That was her job, to track down the members of Laughing Coffin and bring them to justice. It was a job she didn't take lightly, because one of her friends had been murdered by the guild just a few months ago. It was why she was so keen to take the job.

As she followed the man into a bar, she sat down a few tables down from him and let out a heavy sigh. She ordered a water and sat back in her chair, waiting for the man to make another move. She was going to wait until he left town, and then she would strike.

[Flamelord]

Floor 8, a pretty nice place if Azecreth said so himself. Which he did, anyway, or else he would not have been saying it now. It was the perfect spot for a person like him, who was too afraid to go fight on the front lines, but too guilty to simply sit back and not help out in any way that he could. If people died because of his inaction, how could he live with himself? That was the realization that he had made after they had found out they were stuck, and the initial chaos of that had died down.

So while he was afraid of going out to fight and possibly dying, he had done what he could to help out. Ironically, the idea had been inspired by a D&D card no less, a quote about armies and how they operated. So he had become a smith, a supplier of weapons, armor, and equipment. He wasn't the best, not to the level of someone, say, Lisbeth, but he knew what he was doing, and he made a tidy profit. And that was without price gouging either, since he wasn't about to stiff people like that.

At the moment he was taking a break in one of the bars that dotted the towns on this level, relaxing off the stress of hard work. This place wasn't too busy, he'd say, but then again it wasn't exactly a vacation spot either. It was more of a local favorite, and that was fine by him. At least the PC running the place had the skill to make a good pint when he got around to it, and he could charge a lot for it. And unlike Azecreth himself he had no qualms about overcharging. Bastard.

Taking a sip form his glass, Azecreth looked around as activity flowed around him. Just an average day with nothing to worry about. And that was just the way he liked it.