As the black rider drew ever nearer to his destination, and to the coast, the light drizzle became a steady rain, but it was not a cool rain. It was becoming increasingly more humid, and the rider was once again reminded of how much he disliked the bay area of Leyawiin. The fabric of his robes did little to protect him against the warm wetness seeping through. He had half a mind to simply slit his quarry's throat as she slept and be done with it. But he wouldn't. That would be irresponsible of him. The woman he was hunting would either be dangerous to the Brotherhood, especially if she knew who the Brotherhood's informants were, in which case, he would kill her anyway--or simply ignorant of her incredible blunder, which, while irritating, would make it unacceptable for him to kill her outright. In such a case, well...There were [i]other[/i] means of repayment.

The rider was distracted from his thoughts as his dark horse snorted and shook the rain from her coat for an umpteenth time, only to realize that she was standing still, in front of the very city gate that currently protected his elvish prey from him. He wore a scowl under his now-dripping hood, and dismounted.

"Stay here. And by Sithis, [i]don't[/i] go looking for trouble."

He left his horse standing there, whose red eyes bored into her master's back as he walked away, mud and gravel crunching under his boots. As he entered, the two guards standing there stopped him, suspicion growing on their faces.

"Hold, stranger. What's your business here?"

The rider looked up to grace the impeding guards with his scowl.
"My business is to find a hot meal and a roof to get out of this rain."
"Really...then why carry a dagger with you?" The guard gestured to the weapon belted at the man's waist.
"Roads are dangerous, especially at night. Isn't that what you men are saying these days?"

The guard looked irritated.

"Bah. Get on then."

And with that, the robed man headed off down the street, towards the Five Claws. It wasn't difficult to find--inns never were--but he didn't enter just yet. He casually leaned against the wet plaster of the wall, as though waiting. He [i]was[/i] waiting, in fact, for a patrolling guard to pass by. When the guard's back was turned to him, he whispered a spell, and he appeared to vanish.
He then slipped silently into the inn.
By this time, the proprietor was most certainly asleep, and the invisible man was neither seen nor heard by anyone--not until he entered Venasa's room, and his invisibility spell wore off. She was small, for a dunmer, but that was a quality much admired in the Brotherhood, for small people made for excellent assassins.
That was what the robed man was. An assassin. He took note of Venasa's hand hidden underneath her pillow.
[i]Smart. But telling.[/i]
The robed assassin leaned in the far corner of the room, and waited.