Kat pushed the door open and strolled in just in time to hear Ernst's boasting and crude comments to the tavern keep and she rolled her eyes. Not that she minded crude, but honestly, how was she to put up with this lot in the coming weeks?

"Is your sister as much of a catch as you are?" she asked as she dropped herself into one of the remaining chairs. "If so, you might have to pay [i]him[/i] for it." Plopping her bag on the table – it was heavier than it'd been that morning, but the number of silver coins in Kat's pocket remained the same – she sat at an angle, resting her arm on the back of the chair. Kat turned to the mysterious cloaked man. His name was Vidic, apparently.

She was silent as she looked him up and down. No, this one wasn't a priest. His eyes were too dead, and the way he carried himself was too fluid to be anything but predatory. Eyes never leaving Vidic's, Kat said, "If this one's a priest, then I'm right-handed." She tilted her head to the side, continuing, "No, if anyone's soul needs saving, it's your's, isn't it?"