The assassin took a long sip of the whiskey in his glass, staring down at it. He sighs, picking up a dagger from next to him, twirling it in his hand, watching everyone enter and leave. His eyes land on you. A target. You are a noble, one with a lot of territory, you also tend to be very irresponsible. He grabs his glass, sliding his dagger into his boot, coming to sit with you. "Hello there." He says, cheerfully.