Coiling up my chains and digging my feet into the splintered wood beneath me, I awaited the arrival of my new possible foe or savior.

     I was quite surprised when it turned out to be a kobold.

     In Lords of Chaos a kobold was a scaly small fellow, ridiculous mutated cousins of the draconic evolutionary tree according to the Monsterpedia. Feeble enemies, they were basically in the game to give first-level characters something to lord over. I eyed him over, trying to ascertain how such an enemy figure could have so easily dispatched what had seemed to be a veteran warrior. 

     As I watched, the small humanoid being clambered in, saw me, and gasped. He was clad in worn leather armor and thin deerskin breeches, the latter of which sported rusty brown and red stains. 

     “What the hell are you?” he asked, not flinching in the slightest. I noticed that in one hand he held a short and wickedly curved blade, the make of which I did not recognize.

     And in the other was clasped a handful of loose dirt, a sliver of it sliding out from the bottom of his fist.

     “Thorack,” I rumbled. Then paused. Was I? Should I be using my real name, or the one that this horrid world / possible delusion had given me? Jeldorain snickered inside of me.

     “Ryan,” I corrected, watching the small being warily. He was a shifty one, I could see. Not only was his blade bloodied, the crimson stains around his mouth and on the points of his teeth told me that he was a bag full of tricks when his life was on the line.

     There was another stench to him, though. One that went past the scales of his hide and the obvious smell of weeks or months living outdoors. 

     He smelled curious. And friendly.

     The absolute last of my mana points, oh great champion Ryan. Get me dedicated rest, and I might be able to help you once more.

     “Thorack Ryan?” the kobold asked. “Or just the last one? Been in this situation more times than I can count, buddy, so trust me when I tell you that it isn’t weird if it’s just the last one. And no judging, Gharag-cultists are the worst.” 

     He snorted loudly, a nasal chuckle that raised Jeldorain’s hackles inside me. I shushed him, delighting in the fact that I wasn’t about to have to fight again. I’d rather know what I was and how this whole world worked before I accidentally used up some one off ability or leveled up and chose the wrong ability raises. 

     The kobold looked me up and down once, before gesturing to the hole. “If you trust me, I can take those chains off lickety-split no problem. But, if you don’t, come on out and meet the crew. They should have finished off this damnable menagerie about now.”

     I frowned. Menagerie? What in the hell was he on about?

     Hells, Jeldorain growled.

     “Take off my chains here, kobold, and tell me what just happened. Was this a rescue?” It didn’t seem likely, since I’d just gotten here. But it was possible that there was a storyline already in play, and I’d just happened to get shot into the middle of it. The idea made my stomach sour.

     He laughed. “Kobold was my mother’s name. Just called me Ike,” he replied. His voice was jovial and the accent of his English lacked the yaps and barks that the kobolds in Lords of Chaos exhibited. I nodded, extending one hand.

     “Ike, then. I thank you.”

     Ike opened his hand, letting the dirt within fall to the floor. “Don’t make me regret this, Ryan. This wasn’t a planned rescue. I have no idea who or what you are. But I figure you’re in the menagerie, so that makes you a friend.”

     He reached a tiny hand into the pocket of his breeches and took out a tied knot of small tools and what appeared to be the pieces of keys.

     “Yes. Friend,” I said, thinking back to the horribly powerful hunger lust of not so long ago. I wondered if it was simply an urge reserved for enemies, or if I had indeed become a real monster. “So, this menagerie, what is it?”

     Ike slid down to me, working one of the manacles that bound my massive wrists. “Empire animals and beasts. This whole convoy was full of them. Dangerous monsters. We figured they were meant for his zoo. Not a real handsome target, but we were in the mood to piss them off. But,” Ike stopped, cocking his head. “I don’t think you and them were heading to the same place. Got a feeling you were supposed to do something different. Like maybe the whole zoo menagerie was a cover.”

     I nodded and sighed. “From what they told me, I was meant to be some sort of super slave soldier.”

     A manacle clinked and fell from my wrist to tumble awkwardly to the floor. “Kinda sounds awesome when you put it that way. Sorry to have gotten in the way.”

     Chuckling, I watched as he did the rest of the chains, taking them down one after the other with a dexterity that was impressive to watch. “So, the dirt in your hand? You were going to throw that into someone’s eyes if they tried to fight you?” I asked. 

     “Damn straight. I’m S-class in Dirty Fighting, so why not use it? I know a lot of people are all about being honorable and fair. But there's neither of those in dying.”

     I nodded, absorbing the fact that he’d just mentioned a character sheet item casually in direct person-to-person dialogue. Wherever I was, the weapon skills were observable by all it would seem. 

     “I’m S-class in Whips and Chains,” I responded. 

     Ike stopped what he was doing and gave me a long up and down, before shrugging. “Something that looks like you? Doesn’t surprise me. Not gonna find any of those weapons out there though,” he said, tilting his scaly head in the direction of the cart’s egress. “Probably best keep these chains and craft them into something worthwhile when you get the chance.”

     I nodded, noting that information for later as well. Jeldorain groaned inside of me.

     Beneath me, Ike finished the last of my chains, letting them clink to the floor. I bent over and collected it all up into my arms.

     This time the little kobold stared at me, his head cocked quizzically. “What, your inventory full? A guy like you, I’d guess Strength at least 18, probably more like 20. Those chains are heavy, but they won’t take up more than 9 slots. And there is no way the guards didn’t strip it all clean when they captured you or whatever. So what gives?”

     A hoarse yell sounded from the outside, the spicy scent of blood mixed with trail dirt wafting into my nostrils. They flared involuntarily, and Ike’s eyes widened.

     “Sorry. Not sure if I should be telling people, but I need all the help I can get. I don’t belong here.”

     Ike cast about, spotted the corpse of the human, and took a seat on his stiffening body. “I’m not huge on fighting. Not when it’s a Party Combat and all the XPs are equally shared. Tell me what’s up and I promise to keep my lips sealed.”

     So many thoughts raced through me. Everything was so bizarre and broken here. I didn’t know who or what to trust, but I had the sense that this little guy in front of me, an enemy in my world of online gaming, was someone I could confide in. Someone who’d help me more than the arrogant infernal soul inside of me.

     But how could I say it? The world I was from was very different, yet so many of these terms came straight from a myriad of players’ handbooks and gaming guides. It could have been pulled directly from the internet, so similar was it to what we all imagined back home.

     I stuttered once, sighed, and began in earnest. “I am a champion from another world. A world where I was human, and not this. I had just won a great tournament when my spirit, I guess, was pulled from there into this body. The body of an ice infernal named Jeldorain, or so he says. Not sure if I’m supposed to trust the word of a infernal even if I’m sharing their body with them. In my world that is what we would call a bad idea.”

     Ike laughed. “Yeah, they’re bound by truth, but not afraid to twist it. That’s what the sages say anyways. Go on.”

     “I haven’t been here long. I woke up in this body, imprisoned, with a bunch of cultists chanting and some guy came and told me that I’m meant to be the champion general of the Goblin Empire. Then I killed a bunch of them, was put to sleep with magic, and woke up in this cart.”

     Ike whistled. “Damn. Well, not the first time that’s all happened. Conjuring champions is a legendary spell. Takes a lot to pull off. Seems like they would have taken better care of protecting you wherever they was sending you. Not gonna lie, I’d love to tell this story to the rest of them. But I’m not gonna.”

     I smiled, a sense of cool relief rolling through my skin. “Thank you. And why not?” I asked.

     “Because you and me, we’re gonna be best buddies. Like the story of The Dragon and The Mouse. And because I like you. Don’t know why, but I just feel like we’ve got something good rolling here.”

     “Not sure how much use I’m gonna be, to be honest,” I said. “I don’t know the rules of this world. I don’t even know how to use my inventory.”

     Ike tutted. “Different dimensions have different rules. You’re lucky that this one is an easy one. Mostly you just think the cosmic word, and it happens. That chain you’re holding? Think inventory.”

     I gazed at its links and sent it my thoughts. Inventory, I commanded. Instantly it disappeared, a faded text notification appearing briefly in my sight. 9/20 inventory filled. Contents: Chain (Anti-magic).

     Ike put a hand to one scaly ear flap, cupping it and listening.

     “Sounds like the battle is over, buddy. Let’s get you out of here, and back into the light. Oh, and mum’s the word. Just follow my lead, and I’ll teach you the world when we’ve got some time.”

     “Thank you,” I said, the sudden weight of my grief pouring through me, tears coming to my eyes. I followed the kobold out of the wagon, hopes high, and images of my wife and children in my heart.