Nevin frowned and cursed inside of his head as he realized that his slip of the tongue had given away more than he intended. Alas, such was often the results from speaking in haste, as he had long ago learned. He sighed and slowly sank down into a seat across from the bar tender, propping his chin in his hand as he stared at the swirling fluid inside of the glass in front of him. Well, needs must when necessity drives, he supposed. One long finger reached out and began trailing along the rim of the glass as he organized his thoughts.

"The thing is slain. I felled the beast with my own hands." A simple gesture to the red tunic that he was wearing. "The craftsman who worked on it termed this leather 'magim beast' hide. So, if you run across the foul thing, they.... Well. Magic is effective on them. So too, would blunt attacks, I think. Blades would just... I should explain, just what it was." The redhead picked up the glass and took a slow sip, raising one eyebrow at the potent, flavorful brew. He could see why the bartender didn't sell this and instead kept it for himself.

"I originally thought that they were a simple Cult, fooled into following a madman. That is not the case though - the thing they worship has an actual God. Think of it as.... A reincarnation cycle of sorts.
They, we, believe in a grand flow of life, that which is properly called the Great Flow of Crimson. The Crimson, in short. It is the essence of life that flows through everyone, young and old,and of all races. Everyone is gifted by the Crimson in some way or another, but in the end we all draw life from the same source, the Great Flow. The primary tenets of the Church, then, are unity, and acceptance. We are all children of the Crimson, and in the end our personal share of Crimson will return to the Great Flow, in order to rejuvenate itself before being split apart, mingling once again before being redivided to live again." He frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose, and leaned back to see if the bartender was still listening. The man did still seem to be interested, at least superficially, so Nevin continued.

"However, there is a division, a subsect. At some point, I know not when, a demon,
and I term if of the Faith because as far as I know the Cobalt-taken thing is specifically tied to the Church of Crimson, came in. It serves a being it called the Scarlet Made Flesh, and due to an error in judgement on its part, it thought I was one of its Kin. It told me it had infested a priest of the Church and was trying to bring its Master into this world. I objected to this, rather strenuously, and the Servant fell." For a moment, a dark look flickered across his face before it cleared away.

"But in the aftermath of taking that thing down, I learned it had perverted many of the teachings of the Church. I've actually been working on returning this branch of the Church to its roots." He suddenly coughed, and hid his face behind his cup as he drank, his dark eyes sliding away from the bartender. "Apologies. I did not intend to chatter your ear off."