He was totally focused on the papers before him, passing each one he finished with to one of a series of paper holders, pausing only to occasionally roll his shoulder where he had been poisoned from the last kill attempt. He was aware of the constant, low level pain from all the badly or barely healed injuries he had sustained, but like most annoyances that weren't a concern to life or limb, he ignored it, and kept working. He was vaguely aware of doing a quick check of his usual aches and pains, the left thigh had a permanently numb streak about half its length to his knee, where the nerves had been damaged during a fight back during the first attempt to replace him. He was missing a chunk out of his right heel from a trap from in a ruin, and another numb spot in his foot from a steel spike trap from just beyond that trap. His right shoulder burned slightly, the poison lingering no doubt, and his right bicep was tight again, the healing from the ring having fixed the nearly severed tendon, but it still tended to tighten up randomly. His chest was cold, but with that many scars, he wasn't surprised by that, and his left forearm was tingling again, having been utterly shattered by a pair of bolas during his second assassination mission for the guild. His back was the worst, but he was used to it, a flanged mace having smashed into his lower back, just to the side of his spine, hence why he survived that fight. He had dozens more, but those were the impressive, standout ones.<br/><br/>He sighed, and took another sip, ignoring the slight burn from just below his belly at the sip, or maybe it was the previous one, finally beginning to filter into him. He simply ignored it like he always did, and kept pressing, figuring the paperwork would end eventually, and he could get some serious sleep for a change of pace.