Liath is lounging in her throne room playing with her crown when one of her advisors runs into the room shouting something about a terrorist attack. She starts up from her throne, but a truck bursts through the nearby wall. She has just enough time to register it before it explodes.
Observations of note:
There are slaves; They wear special collars and nobody acts as if they could disobey or run away.
Men and women seem to be equals, here, unlike so many societies in the multiverse.
There are a lot of different species here. Like, a lot. Most people are human, but there must be at least a dozen different kinds of not-quite-human, and a few weirder sorts - there was a talking horse they passed, and a bird the size of a Great Dane wearing clothes and running a shop.
Going by fashion and actions, there are four rough social classes (aside from slaves) - poor laborers, middle class craftsmen, rich and powerful people, and mercenaries/guards(?)
Dungeons are places that the mercenaries/guards(?) visit frequently for some reason(???)
The local ruler is a Governor, appointed by one King Aldonesphiel XVI, according to a plaque in the lobby.
"Captain Rousseau will see you now," the fancy-armored guards tell her as they reach a fancy oak door and open it for her.
Captain Rousseau is a large man with extremely defined muscles, a chiseled jaw, and slightly greying hair, wearing a fancier version of that green uniform over masterwork chainmail. His office is finely decorated; There is a tray of fancy confections and a tea set on his meeting table.
"Liath, of the Foot of the Red Throne. Welcome to Franzerl, I am Captain Rousseau. As far as I know, we have no relationship with anything called the Red Throne, and in fact my scholars have no knowledge of it either, so I'm sure you can imagine the possibilities I must consider here."
Liath waits until the door closes before speaking selectively for Captain Rosseau only.
"I understand, Captain. My tale is an unlikely one, more likely spoken by a charlatan than the genuine article. Nonetheless, I must regretfully inform you that I am in fact the Summoned Hero. The title is genuine: it simply does not originate from this world."
He's a pretty cool character, but that unsettles him.
"...More likely spoken by a charlatan than the genuine article, indeed. Would you like a snack while I think for a moment?"
"I would appreciate a tea service, if only so I can put my table manners on display for you." Her education is her proof she's of noble blood; ettiquette can be faked but it's a card she'll play.
He nods and presses a button on the underside of his desk, then goes to sit at the table. He pulls out her chair for her before settling heavily into his own and, deliberately, to try to put her off balance, putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands in a thinking pose.
A demurely dressed maid appears in mere moments from a low profile servant's door and serves tea. It's good tea, some unfamiliar variety of black tea.
She is unshaken. She lesiurely prepares tea with a teaspoon of sugar and a dash of cream, then drinks from the fine china cup. Her hands do not tremble.
A calculating eye meets the Captain's gaze over the rim of the teacup.
The table is quiet as they stare at each other.
Captain Rousseau is imperfect at hiding his actions. He's subvocalizing, and from his microexpressions, listening to someone talking back and not liking what he's hearing.
She drops her spoon into her teacup.
"Captain," she says. "I would prefer for you to include me in the conversation you are having."
"A reasonable preference. I simply want directions to the nearest city and enough support to get me there. I have no intent to be persistently your problem."
"I intend to call someone I trust. I will ask 'do you swear to either answer my next question truthfully, or refuse to answer it'. The binding will take if you agree. Then I will ask, 'In the past hour, to the best of your knowledge have you deceived me in any way, whether through accident or design or side effect, or could you even possibly be under the influence of any Skills or effects which might make your internal experience inconsistent in order to defeat lie detection'. Acceptable?"
"It's impossible for me to know for certain that I haven't been used by some third party with sufficiently scary mind control. But I can swear that my internal experience has been consistent ever since I arrived here south of your town in the desert."
"If there is a third party with mind control that scary I'm utterly fucked anyway."
He gets up and presses another button under his desk. "Chee, send Senna up please. It'll just be a few."
"Right away, sir," comes a slightly echoey answer.
"Very good, thank you."
He starts pacing.
Senna knocks a minute later. She has blue hair, is wearing a blindfold, and is actually rather pretty - close to Liath herself. She doesn't react when he explains the Geas in question, and casts it without comment, and leaves immediately after it takes hold like a noose around Liath's heart, having said not a single word.
Captain Rousseau asks his question.
"I have decieved you in that I claimed to only be a duchess of the country I ruled before I came here. I am a duchess but it is the least of my titles; I was a reigning Queen. Apart from this omission I have not decieved you by intent, design or side effect. I am in possession of a unique skill that improves my ability to lie as part of improving my overall presence, but it is not capable of memory editing or otherwise preventing me from realizing my own duplicity. As far as I know there is no outside agency that could be using me beyond those involved in summoning me here. Is that enough of an answer for you, sir?"
...He seems to deflate.
"You understand I had to check. Let's get you taken care of. I'll give you an express trip to Liscor and a few gold pieces to see you off in exchange for a future favor. I'll declare that favor now- Leave this town and the whole Green Crater out of things as much as you can. Please."
"Thank you," she says. "I'll remember you and do my best to leave you out of it."
A promise of great weight, that one. She can't call up troops from here now, not without pushback. She's denied herself access to the local resources in the long term. But for this critical aid at this critical time, it's worth it.
"Great." He opens a very fancy-looking money pouch and digs out three gold coins before handing them to her. "This is all I can spare personally. It's plenty to start with, though not a queen's ransom. Your Highness the Hero, if you would follow me..."
He is very keen to get her out of his town. He brings her to the roof and calls for some sort of flying (horseless) chariot, which lands on the roof with a thrumming noise, piloted by a short and energetic mouse-woman. It looks fast, but uncomfortable.
"All the way to Liscor, is it? That's a great gig - you must be in a hurry, miss!"
"I am indeed," she says. "Thank you for your service."
Always remember the little people, and in turn they'll remember you. She repeats the mantra again to keep herself from being short with the innocent pilot.
"Well then, strap in and off we go!"
This thing is not faster than a jet plane, but it feels almost as fast. Talking is close to impossible. Her hair gets messed up by the wind.
Liscor, it turns out, is a large city with some very impressive looking walls, nestled in a sort of swampy valley between two high streaks of mountains. The whole area is criss-crossed with lakes and mud by the look of things - there is only one road north and one south.
Her pilot slows down on the approach and argues with someone for a little bit through the control console once they're close, hovering in midair.
"Okay, looks like I have to set you down outside the walls! The gateway city doesn't want things flying over it."
The flying chariot attracts a lot of attention. People standing on the walls and in the streets of the city and on the road point and stare as it lowers to the ground.
"Aetherwing ultra express appreciates your patronage and hopes you enjoyed your flight! Need help getting down, miss?"