Meanwhile in usually beautiful scenic Teckelstein the residents were not happy.
There was a howling blizzard on what should have been a lovely summer day.
There was none of the usual tourist trade from other realms and worst of all A.F. Teckelstein First Minister for just about Everything not had his morning saucer of hot chocolate milk.
A. F. was a magnificent example of European standard hunting Teckel with black and tan coloring and an tail best described as an elegant calligraphic whip wearing a monocle with a jewelled rim.
He was yelling at a speakerphone on his desk.
"What do you mean half the High Council disappeared and most of the rest can't make it through the storm.
Get some one with weather powers to make a tunnel or something.
Where's Leo or Mark?
Trapped in Chez Alfred?
Mark's wand isnt working and neither is Leo's gun?
The sky shield is cracking?
Yes I noticed that thank you!
Don't make me come down there and fix things myself!
And where are Sassy and Goldie?
Well them outside of the realm is always a mixed blessing.
We have more important problems!? Oh really!?
The first Dragon is what ... !!!
Oh Lieber Gott!"
A.F. walked away from the phone over to the windows.
A large statue of what appeared to be a warrior from the early Middle Ages wearing chain mail was acquiring icicles down in the courtyard.
Unfortunately the scales were dragon skin and the First Dragon had clearly had his shapeshifting abilities blocked half way during a change from his favorite human form to his full dragonish splendour.
"Okay now things are getting serious indeed" muttered A. F.
"Someone find my snowshoes" he barked in an imperative baritone.
Over in Chez Alfred unhappy customers were huddled around a fireplace fending off frost bite with mugs of hot chocolate or coffee or odder drinks. At a table nearby a man wearing a hood and a mask was glaring through snow googles at the innards of a gun and another was staring despairingly at a wand while a third was watching the mouth of a flame thrower that was thoroughly unfunctional.
"How the @#@$#%@@@4 can the laws of physics and magic be NOT working at the same @#@@#%$$ time?"
asked the man trying to fix his gun.
"Hey that was not a hypothetical science boys!" he snarled at the group near the fireplace.
"Dramatic cliches still work!" cried a phantom like stranger as he successfully forced the front door open.
"Whaaa that's not right you're not written to slam doors open!"
"Which means" declaimed the phantom like stranger in disconcertingly cheerful tones that were even more out of character for him, " some badass capitalist running dog imperialist overlord be doin' some heavy duty messin' with reality."
Everyone in the Chez Alfred stared at him ...
Several persons jaws almost dislocated as the phantom like stranger proceeded to do a rap routine.
This was disrupted by an anguished scream from the kitchen from the owner chef.
"Nooo the oven's stopped and I had souffle rising!"
Someone screamed "Its the end of the world!"
Others ran out into the storm preferring the risk of hypothermia to an irate chef.
A few more compassionate souls ventured into the kitchen to comfort the chef a distinguished and former British Intelligence agent.
(No not the double zero and a seven one. The one who works as a substitute parent for a family of neurotic bat theme obsessed acrobatic crime fighters)
"Yeah but what's happening outside our world?" asked a more or less mad scientist thoughtfully who was a refugee from Black Dragon spell it like the Tea Island.
Next time "Yes it's a trap Goldie!"