"You are the ones being set under my command, then?" Morr, somewhat rhetorical, asked the exactly two dozen members of the Hellguard lined up, clad in their traditional suits of mail and plate, even in a time and place like this. The members of the Guard always had to be ready, for anything, anywhere.<br/><br/>"Yes, sir Morr." the answer came from what could be called the weibel, Morr supposed, a woman in her mid-twenties, though gender only really made apparent by her voice, which held a strong, disciplined tone, figure concealed under her armor, her rank denoted by the slight brass lines worked into her pauldrons.<br/><br/>"Good then, you have been informed about our route?"<br/><br/>"We will make our way to the port-city of Pikewall via horse, which will take the better part of a week, after that..."<br/><br/>The discussion with the weibel would go on for several hours, details had to be clarified, logistics planned. However, all in all, there was simply no definite plan to take on something that met the description the reports had stated, nor had there ever been ones about water-based demons. All in all, this was a variable that had found itself, despite its apparent possibility, through the planning of the Guard simply due to never having even remotely existed beforehand.<br/><br/>In itself, there was the plan for the journey itself, but none yet to actually fight the foe, or even reach it by their own means. Maybe, Morr thought, maybe this was why Wolfram had specifically demanded for brother Valetni to accompany this journey.