And here he'd hoped to get to her before she could say something stupid.

Oh well, everyone was allowed to put their foot in their mouth every once in a while.

The wizard waited patiently out in front of the Jedi Temple, waiting for Signum's arrival. Lucky break, in his mind, that he'd been available to meet her. Maybe he could help her get through this, somehow.

Stranger things had happened.

At last, progress on one front; the wizard had finally arranged for that sword-forging that he'd promised Ronnae what seemed like lifetimes ago.

He'd gone to the usual efforts of tidying up the place: cleaning out the area around the teleport circle, scrubbing free the caked-on layers of ash and grit from many an explosion, and laboriously fumigated the last lingering hints of beer-waterfall out of the cracks of his furniture. Now, having called the orc girl, he simply folded his forelegs in front of him and lounged on a rug near his comfortable furniture, reading from a book that floated in midair.

(No. He hadn't bothered to dispel the magic that had him in a draconic form at the moment. Why should he?)

Thus far every attempt to breach the planar boundaries had failed. Summon Monster spells had returned chunky salsa; Contact Other Plane had returned nothing but headache-inducing static; he hadn't even dared test any spells such as blink that relied on the ethereal. In short, a substantial number of spells, and thus a substantial amount of aid he could render, had been taken from him.

Aibghalien resisted magical challenges poorly, if at all.

So after issuing a warning and duplicating his notes, just in case, the wizard put a sign up by the platform that led to his lab indicating that an experiment was in progress and no one should enter, then retreated to said lab to cast.

With three words of power and a gesture as of drawing a circle, the wizard invoked a gate -- then, as the spell began to collapse in nondirectional confusion, he quickly pronounced several more words, and made several more passes, as he laid another spell on the conjuration to amplify its power and stabilize its underlying thaumaturgy.

Something only Aibghalien could understand by watching went wrong.

The force, if there was any, couldn't breach the walls of force that protected the lab, but the sound did. A horrible rending sound that vibrated bones and carried with them a pure note of terror, the sort of thing the deepest levels of the brain reacted to in response to primal fear.

Well, that could've gone better.

The Jedi Temple rumbled as a portion of it threatened to collapse inwards.

"Why would THAT be a load-bearing wall?" Aibghalien demanded of thin air as he hurriedly cast a wall of force exactly flush with the ceiling above the slightly-smoking remains of the disintegrated wall. The magical force promptly shouldered the entire weight of the countless pounds above it, in efficient and good-natured violation of the laws of physics.

Satisfied that the wall would hold, Aibghalien, with magical passes and invocations, laid down several more walls of force over the walls and floor of the single room he'd cut out of three. About a hundred and fifty by a hundred and eighty feet, it seemed extraordinarily large while entirely empty. A lesser wizard might have worried that it was simply too large; Aibghalien wondered if he'd allotted himself enough space. Still, he didn't want to be greedy.

As he reached the last wall, he drew from his robes a crystal, which went dark and lifeless as he drew from it the power to fuel the spell. He frowned, then tucked it away for later recharging, once he could set up the proper devices to do so.

Gritting his teeth against the drain of strength and energy, Aibghalien laboriously laid permanency spells over each of the walls. Exhausting as this was, his time on the ship alone had given him more than enough strength to lay these spells; within a minute, though appearing utterly unchanged to the average viewer, the room had been sealed on five of six surfaces with two-dimensional walls utterly immune to anything but the most potent of magics.

He made a mental note to seal off the doors.

Now, to test the seals.

Flying out the hole he'd disintegrated in the wall before beginning the process of laboratory construction, he took pains to make sure the air and ground around the temple were clear. Then, drawing back the sleeves of his robes, he swiftly cast five spells.

Four of them were Delayed Blast Fireball, each on a shorter timer than the last. The fifth was Meteor Swarm. Four amber seeds of concentrated magical fire shot into the room, followed by four massive globes of force-bound destruction.

Then Aibghalien quickened a teleport right the hell away from there.

The explosion sounded like Armageddon itself had gotten extremely drunk and decided to wrestle a supernova.

Aibghalien had done his work well. Absolutely none of the force transmitted through the magical walls into the Jedi Temple. It all went directly outwards into the unshielded outer wall of the room. That wall disintegrated almost as thoroughly as the spell of that name would have done, and a massive plume of fire shot out in a prominence, followed by a shockwave that rolled out across the City like the deepest bass note from lowest level of the Abyss.

In the horribly quiet aftermath, the wizard drifted back to examine his handiwork. The room, with its walls intact, appeared perfectly unharmed. "That worked well," he noted to himself. "Now to set up the circle--"

Hmm.

He quickly pulled out his omnicomm and typed out a message before returning to work.