The elven sorceress considered a great many things as she ran about the keep, arranging for this group of soldiers to be sent out with all abandon.  Yelling at dozens of functionaries and using terms only a sailor or one who'd worked in a brothel could possibly use without reddening their ears she whipped things into motion without having to resort to spellcraft.  Not that she wasn't feeling the delightful urge to watch someone's heart burst from the fear of the illusions she flung into his head.

What really bugged her was a simple plan.  She was long considering playing the role of a captured hero.  That way, if the minions failed to bring in these nascent heroes then she could join them and learn their strengths and weaknesses before returning.  For one, there was some danger involved and second, more importantly, that would take her far and away from her overlord.  The thought of that... cat traipsing about, possibly even sitting in his lap drove her mind to distraction.

No, she'd just use scrying.  Sending the troops on their way she hung a small bag of herbs, runic bones with a small pentagram stitched from a single piece of thread embroidered on the side.  This would serve as her focus so she could scry wherever the rune bag was and use it as a focal point for her spells.