The ex cleric sat in a deserted Dundee inn and rummaged. His pack has always been bulging but oddly light. Today a glance as it lay by his feet would show a brief glimpse of many artefacts collected over the years, items with a value beyond their ability to strengthen or protect. The object that caused him to stop the search was a small, dirty and stained leather bound book.

A quick bash to the bar and a strong blow dislodged most of of the grime but bought a sharp glance from Jeffrey as a fine layer of tomb dust settled over some nearby glasses. Already deep in thought the frown was hardly noticed as he just sat and read.