"Regardless, that is a matter we can leave for another time; we're not deep enough in the Worldwound that we can avoid patrols, and I have my cover identity to attend to.  You no doubt have things to do as well, Gord?"

Masks within masks within masks, she wears.  She grows tired of it.

"Madam Herald - I don't believe you've stated your preferences as to how we should refer to you, incidentally? - what are your immediate needs, that they may be attended to with all due speed?  Food, water, sleep?  You appear much like a human, but I'd prefer not to assume and be wrong."

"I believe that I am close enough to the thing you call human for those purposes.  Where are we going."  It's not, really, a question.  She'll take what control she can, here.  "And you may call me Weaver, for now."

"I suspect the Weaver's war will be a thing of legends," Gord says reverently. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than at your side. We shall go where-ever you wish, and may we never run out of enemies!

"But since you are not a local, I shall be happy to play guide. Not far to the east is the Mendevian border, which runs along the Sellen river. It is fortified and the western bank is patrolled. Mendev's main force is camped in the city-fortress of Kenabres, a little south of here. If you wish to ally or trade with any non-demons, they are the closest, and also the most disagreeable. I can hold many sermons on their failings, and so could Harun before our friend sent him away. Also, they won't let you take your coloxus into the city.

"The closest demon stronghold - to us, and to the border - is Drezen, an old crusader city north-east of here. Demons can be found everywhere, but if you want to face their greatest concentration outside Iz, that is where we should go.

"Or, of course, we could head straight for the Abyss itself. That is near Iz, perhaps two hundred miles west of here on foot.

"Further away are southern border, manned by Lastwall and various smaller forces, and the northern, guarded by the Chelish army. That is also where you would contact any churches that are not allowed in Mendev. Both of those borders are at least a week away without magic travel."

"I see.  And with magic travel?"  She turns to Ophelia.

"Hmm.  My business takes me to Lastwall's forces; I will then be at your disposal, most likely.  Furthermore, you need proper equipment, and Lastwall is much better supplied than Mendev.  And also unlikely to decide to torture you like they think they're Cheliax.  ...I think I may actually be overstating the likelihood that Cheliax's Worldwound-facing forces would torture us, even; they'd certainly try to secure us as assets, at which point internal Chelish matters would be internal Chelish matters - by which I mean, they torture their people - but they are signatories to the Worldwound treaty and a genuinely Lawful - though absolutely Evil - state, and Asmodeus doesn't break his contracts.  He just exploits the loopholes.  I, meanwhile, have a position as part of signatory forces that would allow me to hire the two of you, with only some questions asked.  The no-infighting clause is rather comprehensive once you're covered by it, to the best of my understanding. 

"...Regardless.  I can conjure horse to get us where we need to go.  Or a carriage, if that's necessary.  But I strongly advise against choosing to go to Kenabres, even though it's close.  Just taking Drezen or Iz and scavenging from the corpses would be less likely to end in some sort of disaster than visiting Kenabres for resupply."

"...You're sure of that?"

"If you want to brave the branding irons of Mendev's inquisition to satisfy your curiosity, you're welcome to, but I'm not going within a mile of that city unless I'm forced to."

"If you take Drezen, let alone Iz, you'll have more supplies than Lastwall could possibly spare, and enough left over to buy anything you want," Gord points out. 

"The treaty forbids Cheliax from attacking us, but they are not obligated to help us, either. They won't trust you if you're not Lawful, and they won't act against the demons unless you bribe or threaten them.

"Ophelia might have an in with Lastwall, and it might be reliable, but do not expect them to be any more agreeable than the inquisition. They're ruled by the same goddess and she brainwashes them from childhood. They commit fewer atrocities only for lack of opportunity, because they don't have civilians or refugees with them, and they are Mendev's ally."

"You have no reason to think otherwise, but I can speak to the fact that Lastwall is very much displeased by Mendev's purity fetish, being as it gets in the way of winning.  Regardless...Gord has a point, and I think I'm convinced that we should move for Drezen first.  Possibly Iz, but that looks more like a demon general setting up shop than a helpful outsider taking action."

"Iomedae's church in Mendev says they compromise in order to win. They say they were more pure before the Worldwound, but the demons forced them to run an inquisition and enslave their own poor, see, it's not their own bloody fault. Lawful people always excuse Evil with Law." Gord is gripping his sword very tightly and looks like he really wants to murder someone.

"Drezen is a good first target. It will make everyone take us seriously. We can talk to them after that if we want."

"And they are lying, and will suffer for it.

"...I am, frankly, half convinced that most of Mendev's Inquisition unknowingly draws power from Baphomet or Zon-Kuthon.  It fits their mode of operation.  Regardless.  We can have a rousing theological debate later.  Right now - Weaver, what are your orders?"

"...We make for Drezen, and take the city.  Ophelia, make contact with Lastwall and inform them of our plans.  I'll wait until we've either received a go signal from you that the crusaders are ready to hold Drezen, or the demons launch a major offensive.  Gord, your job is - I don't know what you can do, actually.  Other than the language thing.  So you're going to tell me that, and I'm going to figure out how to best utilize you.  Ophelia, how long do your conjurations last?  I can ride, though I haven't been on a horse for a long while."

She's certainly spent enough time on Atlas to know how to handle herself, and her nature camp had horseback riding as a thing it taught.  There will be an adjustment period, but there is absolutely so much else that she's adjusting to that she won't even notice it, comparatively speaking.

There's magic.  Probably.  And it's some sort of learnable thing, which parahuman powers aren't.  That's going to be something she needs to adjust to.

"...They'll last the day, at least, depending upon which spell I cast.  They're - malleable, in terms of duration and number of horses, if you push a little bit more power in."  She doesn't think they'll need Phantom Steed if Drezen's in walking distance, though she absolutely could cast it and it would probably be sufficient.

...If Phantom Steed allowed for multiple riders upon one horse, or perhaps if she did some trickery with Floating Disk.  Which: it doesn't, and she can't do usefully.  So that's off the table.  Though if she did a Mass Phantom Steed, instead of a Mass Conjure Pony, the magic would still last the Worldwound's length entire, for a small party.

Regardless.  She needs to report in.  Something that changes the strategic situation this much...She might even have to tell Kenabres.

She would prefer not to have to tell Kenabres, but she might.  "I should Send in, before we leave."

The Sending is short.  "Infiltration wildly successful; all insect demons in mile neutralized.  Believe strategic situation supports taking Drezen.  Prepping Teleport for discussion, party?  Thinking ranger, druid, bard?  Paladin."

"...Hold on to this; it will make my return teleport easier."  She hands Weaver a mirror, though it reflects mostly mists that are not in evidence otherwise.  "I'll need ten minutes."

...To tie a scrying sensor to her familiar mirror, though now that she thinks about it, the development and release of a ritual-cast teleport that stabilizes at a lower circle would really ruin Infernal Cheliax's day.  And they couldn't stop her from spreading the spellform while the Worldwound still exists.  Heh.

The response Ophelia receives is surprised.

"Report with all due haste.  Will look for spare adventurers.  Don't see any response yet; day's been quiet.  Elaborate on mechanism.  Iomedae guide your strikes."

"...And when will you be back?  You mentioned patrols."  Are you trying to get us caught, she doesn't ask.

"As long as - kar thuvim movat - Gord doesn't - viret omni surr ka - pick fights - kom drakon - it's fine, you're - kar surr ka - with Lastwall! - " and she continues casting, taking a moment between somatic gestures to toss Weaver a sealed writ; her own "Yes, really, this person is working with Lastwall" papers, in fact.  It's worth the momentary risk; the Watch Commander will be looking for her in ten minutes, so she's hardly going to get smote.  They'll know she's wanted alive.

...Hahaha, how funny her thoughts aren't, sometimes.

...She really hopes Gord isn't going to ask too many uncomfortable questions about the spell she's casting; she doesn't expect him to know Draconic but she's been surprised before, and the words she's chanting are words of divination, not conjuration.

"...And this is...?"  It has a seal on it, made of blue wax, embossed with some fancy heraldic thing and words in a language she doesn't know; she's tempted to open it and see what's inside, but doesn't, on the grounds that it's probably sealed for a reason.  Seals were used to prevent tampering in medieval times - she suspects that whatever's in here is worth more to her credit with anyone that would want her harmed if the seal is intact.

Plus, it is pretty, in a very martial way.

"- Writ of - alignment -," she spits out in between syllables of the spell; "- says I'm - working with - them for - Worldwound stuff," and also reveals some other things, because if she needed this paperwork they would likely have become relevant, but she's too busy spellcasting to be worried about that right now!

Huh.  She didn't really expect the order of crusaders to care so much about paperwork that they issued it to - what even is this woman?  A spy?  A vigilante?  A deniable asset?  But it makes sense, if what she's said about everything else is true.  And she - 

- the fact that she seems this trustworthy is actually kind of suspicious!  She murdered a guy!  His corpse - was right there; Ophelia picked it up and put it in a bag it shouldn't have fit in before she started casting.

Regardless - she's got her eye on you, Ophelia.

Oh, now that's a clever girl.  Well-caught.  She gives the Herald a wink, and vanishes.

The defenses have expanded over the last few weeks, casters using whatever slots they have spare before they rest to power staffs of wall of stone that go out with the morning patrols; they're trying to ring around the wardstones as best they can, because Lastwall simply can't afford a fort for every single one, but they especially defend crucial linkages.

There's also the building they keep for demons who surrender, inside the wardline.  No-one's taken her up on it, but she has to try.  She's not a Shelynite or a Sarenran, there are points where she draws her blade in anger and cold blood, but to be unable to accept a surrender when offered - to kill when it's not them or her -

She refuses to make that a necessity.

Still, the teleport arrival area is the same as it ever was, which is rather the point of having one.

Ophelia gives herself a moment to settle her appearance by brushing herself down; she usually masks herself as a tiefling, when she's around here.  Well.  When she's officially around here; she's deniably around here sometimes too.