Gray and dreary, just as it always was this far north. Something Rausen had figured he'd have gotten used to by now. Of course, getting used to something and enjoying something were entirely different things, so perhaps he was thinking of it the wrong way. His travels the past year or two had strengthened his weakened and fresh constitution into something a bit more seasoned. Not nearly enough, he told himself. Out here, there was no telling what the dirt stained street rats or the quarreling nobles would do to a man who looked fairly well off.

Despite not being entirely downtrodden, he had begun to look the part of a vagabond. He had teleported some days earlier into the forest opposite of Novigrad, but saw the beggars and cutthroats long before the gray enshrouded city walls came into view. More than one lanky and half starved man looked at him with either contempt of open hunger for his coin purse, but the sword at his side and the way he carried himself were enough to deter any would be attacks. That is, if he kept moving. 

So he did, and soon enough he found himself approaching the [i]Seven Cats[/i], judging from the sign hanging out front. He halted for a moment, seeing one odd man leaving and an even more curious man walking in. A hint of yellow he thought he saw in the latters eyes. He would need to take a closer look, but wherever a Witcher was, there was bound to be violence. He let out a breath, and strode forward with a determination, doing his best to kick his muddied boots before entering the screeching and boisterous inn. Perhaps he was here for the same reason Rausen was. T'was logical, after all.

Scanning around, Raus could tell this place was the quintessential northern tavern. Full of grime, but still better than being outside. One man sitting beside him gave him a gap toothed smile. Raus simply looked back at him, giving a small nod before striding forward. "One for me, miss." he told the serving wench as she passed him by. She snorted and shook her head. "Aye" was all the response he got, and he shrugged. Gazing at the two Witchers, for that is what they had to be, he approached them just as they were about to converse. "So, what's a Witcher doing around these parts." he heard one say, and spoke up as he stepped forward. "I was about to ask that very question."