Nero and Sult followed Fanilly's horse carefully. The night before the departure had been... hectic to say the least. With sir Gillian's condition, it had been fun. And yet at the same time...somewhat bizarre. Still even Sult seemed to have mustered sympathy for the now accursed man. However, the roles of 'Sult' and 'Nero' were still switched, and now it was Sult truly who, donning the usual resolute expression of Nero marched by Fanilly. Her eyes scanned each one of the faces of the ones present there. Who had cooked up such an unusual plan must have been so smug of theirselves.

She pondered, should Fanilly still be picked as bait, if she could pitch her Noble clout and status to do it in her stead. After all, Fanilly, as it stands, was more important than Sult to the order.

Meanwhile 'Sult', or rather, Nero was staying somewhat in the rear, her horse drawing closer to Sir Gillian. "Are you okay, sir Gillian?" she whispered as she leant forward. "Is the new armor to your liking?" she added.