"Scry - let's get out of here -"

He opens the shuttle door. ..checks what's in his mail while she steps in after him.

Fanfiction about him and Carissa! A passionate plea from someone whose baby died of diabetes in Bangladesh before Revelation urging him to make apsel-summoning public knowledge in Golarion. A letter from Lastwall laying out their impression of the geopolitical situation and asking if he has any way to tell them how many potatoes he dropped, they're trying to make sure they're all accounted for. 

He unfortunately does not have such a way. Probably he should have marked the potatoes 1, 2, 3, etcetera so they could at least tell if there were missing ones in the middle. If he doesn't have a reply from Sothis he will agreeably lift the shuttle into the air as Carissa asked.

She relaxes once they're in the air. "Do you have a way of telling who scried us?"

"...I can try to make a model of the person but I don't know if it's a conjurable parameter."

"In line with your archaeological permissions you can try if you'd like."

Model of person who scried them?

A priest, in shiny silver armor, kneeling and gazing at the ground in front of them.

"Iomedae. But how would they know - can you make, on paper, anything they've written about me or about you, and a report on how they found out -"

"That's another one that'll take me a while."

- nod. "How high up are we?"

"Right now? Thirty thousand feet and climbing."

"I don't know what would happen if someone tried to teleport to a moving ship. ...probably they don't know either and won't chance it."

She stares worriedly at the figurine for another moment, thinking. "- I should get that armor working so we can get started at the Worldwound."

"How long'll that take?"

"Five days. I guess we could get started at the Worldwound before that, drop things off, maybe with a note, that's pretty low risk..."

"Just parachute them down among the encampment or whatever they have there?"

"Yeah. Some good food, the food's terrible there, and nice clothes, enough for everyone...probably we'd have to tell some church to take charge of the distribution or they'll all be at odds about it, I assume you won't accept my church there?"

"I'd prefer not. Why a church, why not just drop too much to fight over?"

"That'd be so much." - giggle. "I guess we could, though. There's - a couple thousand people deployed at each of the wardstone fortresses. Probably all of them could haul away a couple of trunkfuls of things to their rooms before it felt kind of futile and childish..."

"Sure. If you want to be really extra I could figure out everybody's size and wardrobe aesthetics and taste in food and personalize the boxes but that might be a bit much."

"It seems like at minimum it'd take much longer than a report on who's scrying us and it's not that outrageous an escalation from scrying to Wish-kidnapping, which will work fine on both of us if anyone tries it, so probably we want to make friends soon more than we want to impress them tons."

"Fair enough. Fancy extraplanar clothes or should I just dump the contents of an example clothing store or three on them? Are there any common allergies or food intolerances, I don't want to send the anti-Worldwound forces into anaphylaxis."

"Chelish food won't hurt them. I guess food from your world might, if it has terribly strange ingredients. I think...not fancy extraplanar clothes, we don't want to send every high level adventurer in the world rushing to the Worldwound, yet."

"Name me some staples and stores, then."