This place was huge. And no, that wasn't a compliment.

 Jael liked to think her job had its ups and downs. Right now, she was in the middle of a big down. She was walking the perimeter of the rookery. She had done this before, many times actually during her two month stay. She was refreshing her memory on places to hide, how far the tree line was from the mansion, any faults in the fence around the estate, anything she could use. More importantly she was seeing if Lord Fowle had increased his security for the party. To her shock, he hadn't, leaving the house guard at a staggering one man.

 As stray rain drops pattered down on her leather hood, Jael let out a shiver. English weather was always bloody horrible, but when the good old fall temperatures started rolling in you could always count on a nice added chill to the bone. While things would be even more stressful inside she couldn't wait for the warmth the mansion offered.

 As she finished her patrol and came back around to the gate Jael noticed one of the party goers making his way up. She stood in the tree line until the man was inside, no need to try an explain why she was prowling in the woods.

 On the path to the house she began to adjust her black cloak and jacket, unwrinkle her leather gloves, shake her boot to try and jog loose that pebble that was lodged in it, and pat herself over to make sure none of her 'contraband' was in plain view. First appearances were everything. Make them think you're lazy or a slob and they'll never shake that feeling. 

 She gave the warmest smile you'd ever see and handed her invitation to the servant. When he asked for her coat she gave a small shake of her head and said, "I'm still freezing from the rain and cold. But uh-" She took the cloak she had over top off and handed it over. "You can take this, I suppose.." She paused. "If that's okay.." She asked meekly. Always make them think you're harmless, small.

 While she was cold, the reality was she wasn't keen on handing over her coat filled with knives, poison, piano wire, and even more things she didn't care to get into. 

 Man didn't seem to care all to much. So she smiled and walked in. Donning her mask, which really was just a ripped piece of fabric with some string on it and two eye holes. 

 She was an assassin, not a seamstress!

 As she walked in Jael let out a small gasp in wonder.. Well she pretended to anyway, at this point in her job she had seen more ballrooms and fancy dining rooms than she cared to talk about. They had lost that whimsical effect after the first dozen or so.

 She didn't notice any sort of organization to the party. People were milling about, some talking to each other, some hopelessly trying to blend in with the walls, one man was getting piss drunk off wine already, and one lady was faffing about with the curtains. Right.

 More importantly she didn't notice anyone resembling the Lord Fowle. Granted the only picture she had seen of him was ten years old, she was doubtful of any of these people turning out to be him.

 Jael debated whether or not to question people to see if they had any new information. But she knew that the odds of that were slim. She had already questioned half the people in town under the guise of a census taker. All the stories were pretty much the same. The old man kept locked up and his servant came to town for food. Everyone had a different idea on why Fowle stayed in the rookery but Jael wasn't interested in speculation. Plus all the guesses were fairy tales at best and ignorant lies at worst.

What she really needed to do was snoop around the house before the party actually started. But she would need a distraction for her to slip by unnoticed.

So she decided to head to the banquet table and piss off the drunk guy.