Lethell silently rehearsed the magical formulae in his mind. Newly copied from a dead foe's spellbook, he was at once eager to try his new teleportation magic and scared of what might happen.
"Are you ready for this?" Regdar asked him.
The burly northman looked down at Lethell with more compassion that fear; they had seen enough to trust one another's judgement and Regdar was simply looking for confirmation.
"Of course, just nerves," he assured his companion.
The spell had no somatic component but one, a curious symbol placed at the end of the dweomer which translated to 'pause and observe' in the language of magic. Indeed, the wizard he had inherited the spell from seemed to pause in silent reflection for a few seconds after invoking it, despite how vulnerable it left him.
"Are we sure about this plan?"
"Yes, Mentathiel; we are sure," Regdar answered. "If Lethell says he can do it, he can do it."
The young woman gave a dismissive roll of her eyes, but he could see her body-language relaxing.
There was no sense delaying any longer; he placed one hand on Regdar's shoulder and tightened his grip on the staff in the other. The warrior took Mentathiel's hand, allowing her to follow. Arcane words burst forth from his lips and he felt the fabric of space tearing, pulling him into the rent and dragging his companions behind him.
He tumbled into darkness and silence, all sight and sound of the real world disappearing to be replaced by a sense of inexorable motion.
Wiz-zard, a sibilant voice whispered in his ear. In the darkness, he felt he could make out the fluttering of unseen wings and the cold scrape of scales on scales. Something had gone wrong, he thought; this was not how the spell should work.
Eddies and air-currents dragged him toward a pinprick of light which began to expand, showing their destination. As he turned back, he saw that their point of departure was a rapidly-dwindling and irregular hole in the darkness, but this was not what caused his breath to catch in his throat.
It was not even the inert faces of his companions, their bodies locked rigid, which affected him so. Instead, it was the shadow which just for a fraction of a second passed between him and the portal through which they had left the material plane. There was a sense of enormous size and power and speed, then it was lost from view again.
Turning back, he lamented that he was not closer to the exit. His mind tore at the aperture, willing the ragged edges apart and nearer. Barely a second was left, but it seemed an eternity to be trapped here between worlds.
Free me, wiz-zard, the voice suggested, an insidious plea which might almost have sounded reasonable. It was close, so very close...
The ragged tear in the darkness swallowed him and he found himself standing on solid ground once more. He fought disorientation, finding his body suddenly returned to its earlier position and his companions speeding forth to secure the room.
Pause and observe...
The words seemed suddenly loaded with meaning and he paused to observe the rapidly-dissipating hole in reality which seemed invisible to his companions. A sense of great sadness and a disappointment emanated from the opening, but it seemed that whatever lurked beyond had chosen not to approach.
It was not until the wound in reality was finally closed that he finally turned back to his companions, long enough to hear the ephemeral sigh of the creature in the rift.
"So what was that spell called?" Regdar asked, now satisfied that the room was safe.
"Dimension door," Lethell replied, still on edge.
"It's useful;" the fighter suggested. "We should use that one more often..."
_____
I was thinking about why wizards lose all remaining actions after a Dimension Door spell. With an imagination like mine, I should not do that. (subtly influenced by 7th Sea's Porte magic)
