Whatever are they *doing*

With a gesture and a whispered word, I spin a burning portal to elsewhere into existence on the other side of my work-table. I'm given to understand that some people work best with a television going in the background - I suppose this is not too dissimilar, and I really should keep an eye on my newfound compatriots.
 
Another day, another mountain, another strange little long range talking box, with lightning in it. The Grey Sisters (for that is what I am taken to calling my newfound students, at least in my head. Such naughty girls, but talented and full of potential, and drive) have opened many doors that they should not, and called up that which they cannot put down, so no doubt *something* will be waiting for my puissant prodigals when they arrive at the desert demesne.
 
No doubt they will be, in light of our past experiences, completely circumspect. I anticipate caution, cunning, and a supremely stealthy plan of insertion and exfiltration. My newfound allies are to a being brilliant, entirely worthy of association with my good self and my mighty magics...
 
Ah.
 
Never mind.
 
They are punching things. I am uncertain why the punching of the snake statues is necessary. I will be the first to allow that 'glowing red-eyes snake statues surrounding a mountain topped with a temporally inappropriate ziggurat' is the sort of thing that, heroically speaking, tends to require a punching. I accept that punching is sometimes required.
 
Still, perhaps we can accomplish the mission first, and punch things second? Or maybe see if punching is entirely vital after-all?
 
Ohh. Desert-Wind Daemons. I have n0t seen one of those in a LONG time. Very nearly on par with that Demon of Fire and Shadow the old Wand-Elf ran into that one time.. and four of them.
 
... My allies are fast, and they are strong, but I think they may be in some trouble. One of the Demons is in trouble, but so are two of my companio0ns, and a third of the demonic twisters is spinning up. I cast forth the circles of translocation and prepare to come to their succor when...
 
It vanishes? Everything vanishes? How odd. The Ziggurat is fading out.. and a few moments later, the Demons vanish as well. How odd. Like a Divine, lowered into the scene from a crane, to banish evil and set all to right at the end of the play. But where is the God, and where is the Machine from which it springs?
 
And why does my draconic companion look so shaken?
 
...
 
Good has triumphed, evil is vanquished, the mission is accomplished. With a gesture, I close the Door to Elsewhere and turn my full attention back to my studies of modern culture. I am certain there is nothing to worry about with my forthright fellows, and besides, I am truly curious to know whose cruet will prove supreme on this most British of Baking Shows.
 
Until we speak again, I remain...
 
LMSV,
KotBDY,
Iot7fV,
M, Co8
Ph.D., MIT&M