As the briefing went along Regan very carefully kept herself from tapping her foot, though her impatient and frustration practically begged her to do something bitter and petulant. The purpose of this meeting had been kept top secret. Gossip among wizards is a vicious thing, so it didn’t shock her that they wanted to keep the news that the strongest and most successful dark wizard in the past few ages was back from the dead…again. But even though the secrecy made sense to her, she couldn’t help but be frustrated. She had at least five tools that would be helpful on this mission, or they would in theory at least. They were also highly specialized so they weren’t the sort of more general utilitarian magical knick-knacks she kept with her always. If she had known what was up, she could have brought everyone helpful toys. But if a wish was a coin I’d have change to spare Regan thought to herself ruefully, especially since by the sounds of it they didn’t have time to make a trip to her work shop in Ireland and grab half a dozen handy tricks. 

 But despite the dire stakes of their mission and likely the limited amount of time they had to act; they met here and not on site to do their planning. Looked like there would be Lots of talk, few ideas, and plenty of indecision was going to be the underlying theme of this team. White council business as normal. This is exactly why she preferred to work as a lone warden, or to focus on her medical work. No hemming and hawing, get the job done or lives would be lost. She thanked any god that her apprentice was not a lollygagger.  She wanted to snap at the group to shot up and get them to London so they could start seeing what clues they could find and what actions they should actually take as opposed to what may be found and what might be done. 

But she was the junior most wizard in attendance on this task force, and she was not a warden commander nor even that high ranked among the wardens. She was well enough respected. If her Mum’s station as a warden higher-up wasn’t enough, her more than adequate skills in both combat and life-saving made up for it. But respect did not match the voice provided by rank or age among the white council. Regan could feel Lena’s gaze resting on her as it always did during meetings or other long boring formal affairs. She returned a sharp look to her appliance, urgering her to hold onto her patients for the time being. Though she was almost certain the girl would be able to tell Regan’s own ability to move in the correct member of a respectable wizard of the white council was already rather strained. 

“We can’t discount that London is also one of the oldest cities in the world, meaning many very old grave yards, and it’s on an island with a rather intense bloody history. The number of skirmishes and battles waged over the centuries in Britain is hard to calculate. On top of both of those facts, it’s a cultural hub. Meaning lots of very genuine articles and artifacts that could hold a lingering spiritual presence. Unless I’m missing my mark, it makes London kind of a perfect place of a beast like Kemmler.” She rolled the smooth wood of her shillelagh in her gloved hands, looking mostly down to not meet anyone’s gaze as her mind worked through words and ideas that would express her need for action but also keep from stepping out of line. For the time being. The day was young and the fiery soul that was Regan Shauna O’Bagley rarely staid unkindled. 

“I’ve heard plenty of him but never gone to field against him. But I do know that to catch a beast you must understand what it hunts for.” She added “Kemmler is likely to be after what he is always after. Power. We need to find what parts of London could offer him the most power and start our hunt there.” She lifted her gaze as another thought struck her. “We should have more muscle on call than this force, if possible. Doesn’t the Mad Man have a handful of followers who are no lightweights themselves?"