"Acknowledged.  Landing zone's clear."

Polite of her to confirm that.  Especially by panning the sensor like she did.  This Weaver knows what she's doing.

Lastwall stands ready.

Genevieve's got everything she needs and she's just going to go tell Zahra that if they have anything on slightly less short order, it's more likely to make it to her if they overnight it to Kenabres, care of Vesta of Sarenrae.

Kalara is always ready for adventure; that's what being a Pathfinder means.

Then once she's Sent to Vesta of Sarenrae, in Kenabres, the message that she should expect Ranger-Marshall Surefoot and possibly a package from Aroden's Dream, in connection with an important mission that Lastwall and others would like her help with -

They will all Teleport out.

...Well.

That is a surprising number and variety of people to dispatch on the say-so of whatever Ophelia is to Lastwall.  And they look both well-equipped, as far as she can judge, and - competent, already scanning the area in a way she hasn't needed to for a long time.

...And how does this - whoever or whatever this is - detect, now that she's seeing her?  Speaking of scanning.

...Chaot--

[LAWFUL EVIL]

...Hm.

...It's too quiet.  Way too quiet.  That's probably intentional.  Not a good sign; he remembers Hellknights trying the same to intimidate him.  Didn't work.  And over there is a demon he will be ready to draw on if it looks at him too funny.  It looks - paralyzed, almost - but it's still breathing.

Strange.  Disconcerting.  But if it works...

Victory forgives your sins.

...Or at least, that's what they said in Belkzen.

He's pretty sure they - Mira, Diana, hells, probably Genevieve - haven't been in Belkzen for a long, long time, now - maybe they never were.  He's still not sure he isn't.

Seems that Arna and the others made it, too; hooray, this wasn't a trap - or it is an even bigger trap than anyone previously thought.

And then there's this dumbass.  She's vaguely annoyed that no-one mentioned that the 'aspiring Gorumite cleric' was Gord.

She doesn't like him.

Not, to be clear, that she's ever met him, but while he may be wise - he's not intelligent.  There is a difference between Lastwall and Cheliax, she finds herself thinking every time she hears of his preachings passing through the front, and it is that Lastwall lets you, and frankly encourages you if you cannot bear up under the strain of saving the world, to choose things that are not 'work for Lastwall'.

Kalara, meanwhile, is - light on her feet, bouncing excitedly.  She's on an adventure, and it's this that always gets her (nonexistent) blood pumping - because it's something the stodgy bodyguard who intended to condemn her to his suffering would never do.

Genevieve, though - she's worried about this, and her hands, wearing oddly fingerless gloves, run over her bandoliers of potions in response.

...Then she notices the strange gadgets.

She really wants to know what's up with those!

But now is not the time...

That's a stronger war-party than he expected! Some may be adventurers, but two have Lastwall insignia, and they carry themselves like they expect obedience.

Lastwall's taking it seriously, then, this gloriously crazy idea that they can take Drezen in a week. Taking Ophelia very seriously, too, or else they have more information than what Weaver told them. (How did they decide to trust Weaver so quickly? Are they going to dominate her the first chance they get? He hopes they try - and fail - but they're probably not stupid enough to try.)

They're making a big push, and it's up to him to make them to fight for Good and not just Law (a regrettably common failure of Lastwallers). Doing that might be the most important thing he does in this life. He moves unobtrusively next to Taylor.

"Welcome to our merry band of freedom fighters!" (he says in Hallit). "I'm Gord, cleric of Gorum, and I've been telling Weaver about local factions. The spell letting her speak Hallit is about to run out, has one of you got a Tongues?"

She moves unobtrusively away from Gord in exact proportion to the amount that he moves closer to her.  She knows image, and she knows how to read people, and she's pretty sure that she doesn't want to get caught up in his beef with the newcomers.  Not without much more information than she presently has.

!

Potionable spells are her job!

"I should, give me a minute...Don't need it too often!"

She rummages through her many pockets.

And then, in a sharp dashing gesture that looks like she's practiced it a lot, there is a cloud of tongues right there for someone to inhale, and still a vial in her hand!  "Voilá; Tongues."

"Though I can't," she quips wryly, "imagine why you'd trust that that potion does what I say it'll do, short of me taking it and not exploding - which would hardly solve the fact that this Herald - I don't believe it was ever mentioned of whom? - would still need it, and have reasons to mistrust that assurance, still.  You could cut the tension around here with a knife.

"...I don't suppose Diana loaned you the emergency Common competence ioun stone?", she directs to Ophelia.  "Bet she'd be more comfortable with a gizmo," she gestures to the what-in-Aroden's-name-is-that on the woman's back, "than mysterious vapors.

"Or, I mean, we could all take the buff.  That'd work.  Not like it's going to run out per se."

...she's going to take her potion herself, before it vanishes.

(Of possible interest to Gord: This one is wearing a strangely colorful Arodenite symbol.)

"Unfortunately, it slipped my mind to mention that it might be useful to the quartermaster; I was much more focused on keeping our trump card alive and unmolested during the 'shopping spree'.  But speaking of equipment, we do have some, which will hopefully neatly supplement what you wear, madam Herald."

"...Aren't we skipping introductions?", Kalara cuts in, almost offended.  "Really!  One absolutely must get to know one's party!  What will you dramatically scream when they're kidnapped by a roc, or an air elemental?

"...True story, that last one; I'm glad I know feather fall.

"Pathfinder Chronicler Kalara Sunaph, madam Herald; it is my most profound pleasure to accompany, aid, and make record of you on this journey.  If you want me to, of course!  Though I sha'n't be estopped from making any note whatsoever of my deeds over the course of this adventure, because memory-affecting spells are too common, it is the consent of those who I am charged to work with whether their names and deeds end up in the Pathfinder Society's records, especially on bodyguarding jobs."

"I don't," Mira gruffs at Kalara in response to that declamation.

"I know!"

"...If we're doing introductions.  Morris Surefoot.  Lastwall Rangers.  Ma'am.  If you're looking to build up your forces, I'm the one that'd best know where the bestial ones are lairing."

If he knew that Gord was thinking he expected to be obeyed, Morris Surefoot would have laughed in his face.  Respected as a subject-matter expert?  Probably.  Obeyed?  This woman controls threats he has to survive, as easy as breathing.  And while he's seen some blunt it, or shape it, in his years of service - in his experience, you don't move the storm - the storm moves you.

This young woman carries the same inevitability in her bearing.  That the people before her are not challenges to be faced, but pebbles before the river - men before the storm.

"And I'm Arna. I have some experience helping cultists redeem themselves. I'll help guard you and steal the weapons off any who attack us, hopefully giving us a chance to talk them down. And I don't belong to any organization, but I really like Sarenrae and her priesthood and will gladly tell you all about Her if you like."