Quoted By:
"Boss! Hey boss!" squawks your familiar, a raven named Crow. He flutters onto your shoulder, bearing word of your surroundings. "Boss, I've been flying all around up and down and... I don't think we're in the Heartlands anymore."
"You don't say."
You came to that conclusion an hour ago, when you felt the sheer <span class="mu-s">chaos</span> in the magics of this land. In many ways it felt like a mana desert, an arid waste without a single drop of ambient mana for the gifted to take advantage of. Yet coursing through the sands ran a mighty and untamed river, which carved a craggy canyon so steep that the paths to power could only be traversed through great wisdom, unsavory methods, or the nepotism of a sorcerous bloodline. In comparison, the Heartlands was a fertile river valley with a well structured system of dykes, dams, and irrigation that tamed floodwaters and kept the land green and well supplied with a steady flow of magic.
Not to mention the heat and humidity. It reminds you of that one dreadful trip you took to the Northlands to visit an underworld observatory. They only had two seasons up there: rainy, and dry, and neither are particularly pleasant.
Of course, you already puzzled out how to lower the metaphorical bucket and draw water from the river raging at the bottom of the canyon. You did not graduated first in your class in Arcane Sciences from the University of Our Northern Lady without reason; rough metaphysical topography like this is simply an inconvenience, like filling out paperwork to renew your carriage registration every year. With a twitch of your fingers, you conjure a cracker from nothing and reward Crow for his hard work.
"Yeah boss, it's wild," Crow chirps between bites. "I mean, how much mana'd you <span class="mu-i">put</span> into that timespace experiment, anyways? We're all the way in the tropics! Or damn close anyways, with all this heat and humidity. It's <span class="mu-i">awful</span> for the plumage."
"Yes, I'm sure it is." You console him with another cracker, that he greedily devours. "We calibrated the equipment for 7.16 millithaums... even allowing for a 1% deviation across all parameters, it shouldn't have put us more than 13 miles off target."
"Well, the jungle says otherwise, boss," Crow points out.
"I noticed."
Using the loamy soil as parchment and a stick as your pen, you write out the equations governing the folds of space that describe Tindalosian Motion through timespace. Provided that the Hewart Constant for the magnitude of metaphysical weight's effect on Tindalosian motion remained equal to 1, your experiment should have resulted in a jump of no more than 128 miles, plus or minus 10% based on the allowance for a 1% deviation in the equipment's calibration. Which leaves you with a <span class="mu-i">number</span> of possibilities to consider.
The equipment calibration was outside of allowed deviation. Unlikely considering the standards that Northern Lady's Arcane Sciences Department holds itself to, but possible.
