Nevin had let the darkening night air wash over him as he quietly sat at his secluded table. After ordering food of his own, he had begun to write feverishly, burning through page after page of his notebook. Thankfully it was a fresher one, newer than most he tended to carry around or he might have run out of pages. As it was, he was actually almost completely though the book by the time he slowed down.

For once, he was not writing more alchemical formula or notes. No, this time he was writing on the Crimson - like a man possessed the gospel of Crimson flowed from his pencil, filling up page after page of the notebook. In three separate occasions his hands had fought him. When he started to write down something from his memories - a strange force guiding him to correct things, making part of the teachings... Cleaner, better.

He could see improvements over what he had once experienced, but it was less like updated ways to do things and more of... A reversion to something that had already been there before? The things he changed flowed better with the rest of the... The.... Even in his mind he could think of no other way to describe it than as a holy book. But that was what it would be, wasn't it, the holy book for the Church of the Crimson.

He looked around, shaking his head and massaging his hand as he took in the changes that had happened while he was working. Sketch had, at some point shown up, and looked to be wrapping up a tale of some sort - and oh Crimson, that was Fenn walking beside Daugi, in a tavern. The massive dire hound looked to be causing no trouble herself, other than the distance that everyone gave the pair.

But the wolf wasn't the only overly large person in the Tavern now. At some point a truly enormous man had entered, and even though he seemed perfectly calm, he absolutely filled the place with a quiet presence as he ate. Truly, this place had a bizarre clientele, not that the Alchemist was going to compla-

When had extra food arrived?