Instant transportation was not something Imogen was accustomed to, and thus, upon arrival, her first reaction was a sharp intake in breath, a gasp of surprise at the sudden change in surroundings.

The location itself was awe-inspiring enough.  Every stone was polished, every column carved to intricate perfection, framing the beauty of nature in the background.  No temple of her homeland could possibly have matched such luxury, such craftsmanship.  The whole structure towered around her, intimidating, a constant reminder that Imogen was now part of something far greater than her own small wars and feuds.

But in spite of her surprise, her anxiousness, she did not waver in the slightest.  After that first gasp, that first moment of awe, there was nothing.  Her mind snapped shut like a steel trap, her face becoming calm and collected as her eyes roved back and forth, taking in each of the others stood around her.  In half an hour, she might have to kill any of them.  Thus she would survey them carefully, searching for details and mannerisms, anything she might be able to use.

Imogen herself was fairly unassuming.  She wore simple blue robes, tied tightly around her for ease of movement, outlining her lithe upper body beneath the cloth.  Her thick red hair and fierce eyes were certainly eye-catching- but in a room full of giants and winged men, she appeared rather mundane, as if a spectator had somehow wandered into the lobby.  There was no aggression in her now.  But the massive bundle of cloth floating behind her cast a threatening shadow, its form distorted by the edges of the many scabbards hidden within.

Not all of the newcomers were as surprised as her.  One, a lumbering mass of raw muscle who referred to himself as Gonad, was already strutting about as if he owned the place.  Imogen glanced away, struggling not to blush.  He was certainly impolite, but... one did not achieve that kind of muscle mass through a quiet life.  But though this earned some degree of respect from her, she could not help but voice her disagreement with his words.

"Brother Haste may be a valuable ally, but do not forget Sister Patience, O warrior."  Her voice was quiet, but crystal clear, each syllable delivered with precise, formal diction.