He watched, his expressing turning to one of confusion and blinking several times, before shaking his head, trying to get the perspective to line back up, and noting that it did NOT want to return to the same previous feeling of immensity. It was still gigantic, yes, but it no longer felt like he was talking to a moving mountain. Something about the conversation had alarm bells going off in the back of his head, but he knew that it would come forward in its own time. "Of course, that assumes I am working for the side I would prefer. After all, not all stories paint a certain color, or grouping of colors, in a positive light. Some say all dragons are evil and guile incarnate, worse than devils and demons. Others claim a more typical approach, that some are good, some evil, and most don't care, just wanting to do their own things and be left mostly alone.<br/><br/>You mention a plan, but refrained from mentioning more, which tells me the less I know, the better. And I am working, currently, for the Fair Ones, a group of the most amoral and powerful meddlers according to the stories that survived on my world."<br/><br/>It was then that the alarm bells finally got their message across, and a flicker of unease, horror and terror flashed across his face as he worked out the reason why all the alarms bells had started screaming. The dragon had said 'this world AND its sister worlds' something that implied that both movement and likely combat was a matter of fact, at least to him. And while what he did know about golds in D&D implied that they could, eventually, do just that, most tended to keep to a much smaller area. But there WAS a group of golds, with a very specific patron, who would be extremely concerned with the welfare of multiple worlds, and likely have a means to pull someone from a world where magic was lost. He turned to face the dragon, masking his sudden fear as best he could, but a battle between gods would be a bad spot to be.<br/><br/>It was, paradoxically, that very thought that got his nerves back under control, and his hands to stop trembling, allowing him to voice his suspicions in a roundabout way. "Perhaps I should be more worried in why you think a magicless soldier would be an ideal champion, rather than worrying about your possible patron and his rather irate sister."