It is a confused man in chainmail! His right hand goes for a mace at his belt and his left comes up ready to cast something!

The summoner is humanoid in the loosest sense – four limbs, a recognizable face, but extremities that trail off into formless white mist. An ethereal shroud reminiscent of a bird's wings hangs from its shoulders, doing very little to hide the odd geometry of its body.

If it's threatened by the mace, it doesn't show it. The white thing points first to its own throat and then at Blai's (somewhat ambiguously, given the lack of digits).

Has he been summoned by some kind of air elemental??? That is BACKWARDS. WHAT.

It doesn't seem to want to fight him right this second? He puts the mace away. "Hello."

Oh good, this one already speaks. The universal translation spell doesn't always work when one party has no native language.

"Greetings, summoned hero," it says in what sounds like ordinary Taldane. "You are… human, yes? The world outside should pose no danger to you, unless your environmental needs diverge from what humans can withstand."

"I am human, yes... what did you summon me for?"

"Zeitnot is besieged by demons, and I can no longer conduct its defense alone. When I wished for a hero I received you, which means that in some respect you must be an ideal candidate for this scenario."

Between them appears a translucent map of a city, bisected by a river. Some areas around the perimeter have been shaded black.

"These regions are at the highest risk of falling into enemy hands as of this morning. Someone has been counteracting my surveillance; I am confident that here and here are correct, but the rest of the intelligence is out of date. The front nearest us is this one, and it is there we must go first if we are to have any chance of succeeding."

"Any particular kinds of demons?" he asks, looking at the map. "Are you planning to summon anyone else? On what time frame do you need to counterattack? I didn't prepare spells this morning with demons in mind."

"I will summon no further heroes unless you turn out to be miserably unsuited for this campaign," it says blandly. "The duration of the wish decreases sharply with repeated attempts. No two demons are made alike, and the implied discrepancy between our beliefs on this subject matters less than you think. You are the summoned hero, and you will either win decisively or lose narrowly. We ought to begin quickly, though we may have another moment or two to discuss without breaking the bounds of plausibility."

Okay. Wow, what a cool summoning spell, he thinks normally you just have to guess what kind of summon you need and hope you're right, the spell doesn't handle it for you. He shrugs his backpack off and pulls the mace out. Casts Guidance on himself. "I know how to hit demons with this and if that'll do I can do it."

That's actually slightly concerning. Khazer remembers an era when violence was not categorically impossible, and even in those awesome benighted times, 'hit the foe with a handheld blunt object' was not high on the list of effective tactics. It appreciates the enthusiasm though.

"That will not do it. The Covenant forbids violence against protected species, an umbrella under which the demons now shelter. In exchange for this… blessing… we are commanded to resolve our conflicts on a different battlefield."

As it speaks, the map of the city ripples and distorts into a familiar eight-by-eight grid of alternating light and dark squares.

"If you are not familiar with the rules of chess, speak now and I shall return you from whence you came."

"You have demons that play chess? - I know how to play chess but there are variations, will the kind I consider standard be at play here?"

"Most games operate according to a standard ruleset which need not be specified before each match, and it is under those conditions that the demons have played thus far. I have personally played ninety-three chess matches in the past three days, acting as Zeitnot's absolute authority and champion. From this, the demons have inferred that my subjects are not very good at chess. I have been challenged to a game of bughouse chess^†, presumably on the grounds that I would not be able to find an adequate partner on short notice."

^†Verbatim: "transfer doubles chess"; but this game is rendered by translation as the name of a chess variant that Blai is familiar with.

"I know bughouse*." It's his favorite, but that's not really relevant.

*In Taldane it's called "redeployment chess".

"Then all the pieces are in place, and the games can begin." The illusory chessboard disappears, and Khazer turns to leave. "I am not planning to explain how or why I was able to locate a human chess player in a public restroom. If anyone asks, please tell them you are an Elkian evangelist and deflect further questioning by offering to demonstrate interesting midgame compositions."

"I think lying is against my religion."

"Is the permissibility of lying unclear to you personally or is your god intentionally vague on the topic?"

"The former. I have not had an opportunity yet to attend catechism classes, and my god mostly chooses paladins, who definitely aren't allowed to lie, but I'm a cleric."

Khazer will process the disjointed collection of facts about Blai's homeworld later. More important: the summoned hero is a type of cleric that cannot play social deception games.

"Then say nothing, or whatever vacuous reply your god permits under such circumstances."

It drifts away through a door, moving through another illusion spell that shreds with its passing like fine gossamer. The room is suddenly perceptible in a variety of ways that it was not before, some obvious and some more subtle. (It is indeed a public restroom, albeit a clean and odorless one.)

Blai follows his summoner, mace back on his belt where it goes when he is not going to hit things with it.

Out through the lobby of an unidentifiable business and onto the street!

Zeitnot is a city of enormous buildings designed by a singularly untalented architect. The construction style of everything in sight reflects a unified creative vision, a dream of somewhere that pleasing composition and harmonious color schemes are suggestions to be disregarded. It's not especially offensive to look at, but for the amount of wealth that must be concentrated here it's a bit disappointing. The city is not only dismissive of aesthetics and budgetary constraints but of physics – some of the buildings have elements suspended over a hundred feet in the air, supported by nothing other than magic.

One particularly tall building in the distance has thick plumes of smoke billowing from its windows; another appears to be partway demolished.

There's a crowd of people waiting just up the road. A few are demihumans, bestial after a fashion, but the majority are some of the most sui generis creatures imaginable. No two are alike, though all of them have an undeniably predatory body plan. They're clearly waiting for something, some more patiently than others.

That's where they're going.

Blai wonders if elementals and celestial dogs and stuff getting summoned for the first time find it this surreal.

Culture shock is one hazard of interdimensional transit that the safe arrival protocols don't account for.

Their appearance is greeted with a round of booing from the strange creatures, drowning out whatever the demihumans might have to say. Blai's presence is evidently unexpected.

"YOU WERE GONE FOR FIVE MINUTES!" someone at the back of the crowd shouts, accompanied by loud profanities and other noises of agreement.

Nevertheless, the onlookers shuffle aside to let them through. A rectangular stone slab sits in the middle of the road, set up with two chessboards in the starting position. One side is occupied by a kitsune woman holding hands with a small child, neither of whom seem terribly happy. No one stands across from them.

It's their fault for letting Khazer leave without pressing the issue. Angels don't even need bathroom breaks.

"Are you stronger with white or with black?" it asks the hero.

"White."