There's not much fanfare to Need appearing. No lights, no sound, no production. There is, maybe, the suggestion of an archway or an opening which is there one instant and gone the next, and between instants a short sword with a crossguard like two crescents appears and drops about an inch onto the deck. There is a sound - fortunately, Coals is just far enough away not to notice it.

Need recognizes what's happened immediately, as all her inputs and contacts in Velgarth cut off. She's not a stranger to traveling to other realities. How it works, the really short and non technical version, is the body stays behind and the soul and consciousness voyage on and are enrobed in a version generated by the process in the other place, and will last until vacated. In her case it's her anchor, not her body. She starts taking stock, reaching out with her metaphysical senses, and within a few seconds has a picture she doesn't like.

There's plenty of magic and it's even still generated by life but the stink of sacrifice magic is overpowering. The spirit world is a flowing current of death and misery. Something went wrong here. And on the physical plane there are only a few people and lives around in a tiny bubble for miles and miles - this is one of those awful places where people go in little ships in the sea of stars, where distance and scale gets really dramatic. It's always so much work to learn those.

The sword she's bound to has not moved or done... anything. It's a sword. While it's a very unusual one, unless she chooses otherwise it takes a close examination by a mage to tell that it's magic at all, and it seems only modestly so. 'Just' a several thousand years old sword that won't break, or dull, or rust.