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Patchwork Magic

"Dimensional translocation in ten, nine, eight," the pleasant androgenous voice chimed melodically throughout the corridors of the tower. The smell of atmosphere grew sharper as the arcane energies gathered. The gray slate stones of the tower Elucidate seemed to thrum with the growing power. Outside a sea of onlookers stood gathered, held only at a safe distance from the barriers set up around the plaza. Their cheers filled the air like the dull roar of some gargantuan beast, but inside the Spellspire there was only that soft voice and its steady count down. "Six, five four."

Inside his study Almanic sat rigidly in his armchair in front of the fire. "Silly old man, teleportation doesn't jostle," he said to himself, even as his hands gripped the arms of the chair tighter. The polished wood pipe clenched between his teeth was in danger of cracking. Staring doggedly into the dancing flames in the hearth, he tried to ignore the numbers steadily ticking down.

Two floors up Taebor had the windows of his room thrown open and was almost hanging out as he waved both arms excitedly at the crowd. Their surge of cheers at his antics only encouraging more enthusiastic waving of his arms. Dressed in glimmering white cloth that sparkled and shone, the man was impossible to miss against the gray slate walls. It was why he'd chosen it after all.

At the top of the tower the three mages ringed around the whirling glass control sphere of the tower made waves of their hands and twists of their fingers which corresponded to dozens of tiny incremental adjustments. Even in the final seconds before translocation adjustments must be made. "Nether weave stabilized," said Lyshen. "There are ripples in the arcano-sphere... but they're within acceptable parameters," advised Anders. The last member of the trio ran a hand through her silver hair, her pupil-less eyes matching the color. Her inner eye was tracing the arcane threads that ran off that orb to every corner of the Spellspire. Elucidate was a miracle of arcano-engineering. The best forged by diviners, spellsmiths, runecarvers and a dozen other fields of mysticism. All those arcane threads hummed, drawing taut with anticipation as the arcane forces gathered. She held their destination in her mind as she plucked those chords. "Sen tailen est," she murmured softly for good luck. "Our location is locked. So we step beyond the boundaries of gods and men."

"Three, two, one."

A beam of searing yellow light shot up from the Spellspire and expanded to engulf the structure. The cheering throng fell into awed silence as the radiance grew until they were forced to avert their eyes. Then as suddenly it was gone. The plaza where the two dozen story structure once stood was now empty. The twenty six souls who inhabited the tower gone along with it. Twenty six intrepid explorers who had set forth to blaze the trail so that others might follow after.

This was the expedition of the Spellspire Elucidate.