“Welcome to my home.” Osric grinned proudly. “I had a witch friend, Tony, whip me up a little something that combines a basic miniaturization process with a spatial bubble. Allows me to bring my life anywhere I go." He opened the front door, revealing the sad, dim hallway of the motel. “We didn't move--we’re still in the room--just in my version of it.”
“This is incredible.” Jim strode quickly around the room, his hand skimming across the blinding trinkets. “Is that a pool table? And an arcade?” He sounded like a kid in a candy store.
“Oh yeah, there’s all sorts of stuff in here. Since it’s sustained by magic, I can have pretty much whatever I want added. For a price, of course.” Osric didn’t tell Jim that the cost of his portable sanctuary rivaled the GDP of most small nations. He alway
