The bald man's eyes were closed, hands clasped above his knees where he sat. He was mouthing quietly to himself, not imposing his prayer over the meal upon his companions. He did not doubt their faith- otherwise he'd invoke Inquisition- but he knew that, often times, prayer was the farthest thing from traveller's minds. Especially with weather as dreary and dreadful as this. Hugo for his part asked for blessed weather in the days to come- his horse had much trouble travelling through the mud, and he'd even dismissed his valet due to the horridness.

He pulled his hands apart, his prayers complete, and lifted a sparse loaf of bread to his lips and bit into it with a single strong bite, pulling the bread away from his face as he chewed. His oaths required him to abstain from meat for all but three meals of the week, and on the beginnings of a journey Hugo preferred to keep to bread. Once his mouth was clear, he finally spoke;

"Ser Hugo Le Guen, Master Templar of the Bretons, master commander of the Commanderie of the Isle of Belle-ile. At the lord's service, and yours for the moment."

His eyes scanned over the group as he held his meagre meal in his hands. The women made him a smidge uncomfortable- his oaths forbade even coming into contact with women- but here they were, chosen by the Good Duke for their services. He wouldn't let his sensibilities come between him and a quest, however, and they were welcome companions so long as they kept the faith and kept to the job.

"I am a survivor of the Crusade for Sussex, where we were repelled by the pagans of England. I lead the vanguard in the crusade, and was both the first and last out of the combat. I take my vows seriously, I take my duties seriously, and I take this quest seriously." He said simply, taking the time to wash his throat with a sip of water. "But I will say this; I will put my faith in each and every one of you, and I expect and implore you to put your faith in me. Trust and co-operation will ensure our success."

He took another bite of his loaf of bread, chewing slowly and deliberately. After another few seconds of chewing he swallowed, drank another sip of water.

"Gloria ad Deus." He concluded in Latin. The man, in his white mantle and bearing his multitude of weapons, left the air to another of the company.