Isadette rolled her eyes at the quarreling Orc and Argonian, and held back a laugh. "Oh, just kiss already!", she remarked in her head, walking toward the bar and buying herself a bottle of ale. She was in town on an independent contract, and what better place was there to find out information than at an Inn? Of course, all of her contracts were independent, now. Her old assassins' coven had been torn asunder by the death of their leader. She couldn't keep everyone together. She was good, but not that good. She stood by the sidelines, watching the two beast-races duel in a drunken rage, perhaps a bit too close, and drank her ale. All the client could tell her about who she was being sent to kill other than the words "big", "ugly", "man" from Whiterun. That fit a lot of people around here. She smirked, thinking of the various ways she could complete her job with every variation. Suddenly, the bottle in her hand was wrenched out and shattered on the floor by the struggle of the two men. She glared at them with venomous eyes. "Watch what you're doing, you insolent fools!", she hissed between clenched jaws.