Quinlan's [Warp Gate] opened onto packed earth and the scent of pine, and the group stepped through into a wide courtyard framed by tall buildings and old-growth forest on every side.
He and Jasmine emerged first with the ease of people coming home, the guests following a step behind, and the gate collapsed with a soft rush of displaced air.
Their eyes turned toward the structure ahead.
A three-story, luxury mansion sat at the courtyard's center, ivy climbing one wall in a line that suggested a gardener's hand rather than neglect.
Flanking it were smaller structures: a smithy with tools racked outside its open doors, a long barracks-style residence, a bathhouse whose copper vent trailed lazy steam into the winter air.
Heated cobblestones ran between them, and the grounds were clean, lived-in, and maintained with the kind of care that only came from people who planned to stay.
