As you cast Misty Step, the world around you blurs and shifts. Suddenly, you find yourself in a vast, impossible space – part sterile office, part whimsical fairyland. Endless rows of desks stretch out before you, each manned by a Fae creature in outlandish bureaucratic attire. The air shimmers with motes of magical energy, and the distant sound of typewriters mingles with ethereal music.
You join a line marked “Short-Range Teleportation,” surrounded by other confused-looking individuals. Time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait, filling out incomprehensible forms with quills that write in starlight.
As your line inches forward, you notice the longer-range teleportation queues. They stand empty, gathering dust. At the end of each, a sign reads: “This line not staffed due to over 1,000 years of inactivity. If you find yourself in this line, please ring the bell, and a staff member will be with you shortly… or in a few centuries, whichever comes first!”
Finally, you reach a cheerful Fae clerk. “Ah… Ambassador. You don’t need to use the standard line. Please feel free to skip the queue on future visists and use the VIP window.”
He motions toward an area that only moments before was a small hillock covered in radiant shrubbery, but is now a sparkling desk manned by a male Fae so stunning, you first mistook him for woman. You are transfixed lost in an eternity of staring at his beauty.
A thunking sound pulls you back into the moment and you turn to see the cheerful Fae where you stand stamping your “application” with a flourish.
“Teleportation approved! Mind the gap between dimensions, and have a phantasmagorical day!”
In a blink, you’re back on the battlefield, the memory of the strange interdimensional DMV already fading from your mind.