Roy gazed up at the massive tent that stood before him; he had spotted it earlier, towering above the rest of the tents. It was like an anchor from which the rest of the camp hung on to. His guide had grunted for him to stay while he entered the tent, probably to inform this chief of theirs. As he waited Roy took in the buzz of his surroundings, something he was quite unused to because of his small town upbringing.

The tent was located in the center of the camp and the goblins clustered around its bright orange flaps. The entire ground was elevated with rough cut wooden planks, atop which the goblins spread out carpets and bartered with their fellows. Still more surprising to Roy were the goblins who stood on elevated stands and performed various acts, there were jesters, acrobats, and magicians, the last of which especially caught Roy’s attention.

Roy gravitated towards one such performer, as the goblin on stage produced a ball of flame that hovered over the palm of his hand. Then the performer produced another followed by another, this continued until a ring of flaming spheres surrounded him. With some theatrics the goblin waved his hands and the orbs began to move, at first the ring spun around him, then individual orbs began to move up and then down, forming patterns with their sporadic shifts. Roy stared wide at the performance, this is what he wanted to do.

“Marvelous act, Tig demonstrates exceptional control over these small cantrips. An excellent performer, he is,” a voice interrupted from behind, quickly Roy turned around, nonplussed that he was being distracted from the spectacle on the stage, what if he achieved a breakthrough by staring deep into those flames.

“Come now Mr... Roy, we’ve important business to attend to, I’m sure there will be time for distractions later,” Roy’s eyebrows rose as he regarded the eccentric goblin before him. Unlike the others who dressed in simple tunics and furs, this individual sported a waistcoat over what Roy could only call a very loose white dress shirt, a pair of breeches and leather shoes completed the image. It would have been like something out of a period drama had the goblin not worn a half helm fashioned out of some monsters skull. The goblins eyes and the hollow sockets of the monsters skull stared at Roy as if expecting some sort of answer

“Oh, of course Mr...”

“My clansmen, or rather this congregation of clans, refer to me as ‘Gazig-Katig’. Though I prefer to be called Epipollus,” Epipollus straightened his clothes as he introduced himself, then he raised his hand and the two shook.

“Well, nice to meet you Mr. Epipollus, but I’m waiting for the chief, so I don’t think I can go anywhere right now,” Roy shifted on his feet eager to return his attention to the performance.

“Simple misunderstanding, I am the temporary chief of this temporary clan,” the goblin snickered as he finished his sentence.

“Oh...” he had expected the chief to be a hulking mass of muscle, or at the least a grizzled veteran. This was certainly unexpected. He had thought, based on the evident warrior caste, that the goblins respected strength above all. Or perhaps the chief was a killer magician and earned the respect of the goblins in that way. Whichever it was there was no hope now, watching the performance just wasn’t meant to be.

“This way Mr. Roy, there is a great deal we must talk about,” Epipollus sauntered away towards the entrance of the big orange tent, Roy was forced to follow along, he would be back and the secrets of magic would be his, someday.

The two brushed through the tent flaps and navigated the maze of strung up partitions inside, before finally arriving in a small room furnished with several plastic stools and a dining table. The pieces were obviously scavenged from the surrounding houses. Epipollus took a seat at one end of the table and motioned for Roy to take the other. Piles of white paper were scattered across the table, many were filled with text in an incomprehensible language, whatever was allowing Roy to understand the goblins didn’t seem to extend to their texts.

“Not the most extravagant of places,” Epipollus gathered up a few loose sheets and gestured for Roy to take a seat, “but it will have to do for now.”

“Yeah, the office is fine. So umm, what did you want to discuss exactly,” Roy shuffled in his seat, this was probably an important meeting, and the chief seemed like an important person.

“Right down to business, I admire a that trait,” Epipollus brought out a world map and laid it on the table, it covered up the loose leaf and drooped over the edges. It was a map of Earth, scavenged like the tables and chairs.

“We found this hanging in an abandoned house, I think it would benefit us both to start from the basics,” Epipollus then spread his arms out and gestured towards the map, “this is the known world, correct?”

“Yeah, but there’s also space and the other planets too,” Roy felt inclined to add.

“Of course, or course, I presume that your world is a sphere and your kind have circumnavigated its surface?” the goblin traced out the outer edges of the map with a finger, the claw was well trimmed and short.

“That was a long time ago, we learned this in class. I think the guy who did it was called Fernand, or was it Ferg? Anyways, that was like, five hundred years ago, right now we do it all the time, we even have photos of the entire surface,” the goblin listened intently as Roy flew off on a tangent, it felt nice being helpful.

“These photos you speak of, are they the product of some form of image capturing spell?”

“Um, no, they're like taken with a machine that... detects light using a bunch of sensors, and yeah...” he wasn’t too familiar with how cameras worked, “we don’t have magic here, it’s all done with machines and stuff.”

“Preposterous! No magic?” the goblin seemed utterly bewildered at Roy’s statement, “your machines do not rely on a source of mana to function?”

“No, we like, burn stuff, that creates heat that then make steam which pushes some uh... big magenets that make electricity,” this conversation was quickly exceeding the scope of his knowledge.

“I see, I see,” the goblin muttered, “we will return to this topic later, as for the map, it is safe to speculate that we are from different worlds. Our world too is completely mapped.”

“That sounds about right,” Roy had never heard of someone ever spotting a goblin, outside of the online groups Lyn frequented. What Hog had said supported this speculation; the other goblin also seemed to be very familiar with the system.

"If we are indeed from different worlds... I persume that you do not speek common Mr. Roy?" Epipollus seemingly at random, pulled out a sheet of paper from underneath the map.

"Is that a language?"

"So I take it that you don't. Yet you understand my speech and I, yours," Epipollus passed over the sheet of paper he had pulled, "Are you able to comprehend the text on the paper?"

"Uh, no, it's all gibberish to me," he hoped that didn't some out as offensive.

"Then we are in the same predicament I'm afraid, we can understand speech but lack the ability to read in each other's language," Epipollus grimiced, his mouth tigthening into a line.

"This i English," Roy felt the need to point out that fact, "we have a buch of other languages too, can you undertand those?"

"Other languages? Do you mean to refer to small tribal languages spoken by those off the beaten path?" Epipollus arched one hairless eyebrow, seeming confused by what Roy had said.

"No, no, like we have other big languages spoken in other countries, I don't know any of them but..." as Roy trailed off into nothing Epipollus bursted out in alarm.

"What! How in the world do you communicate with each other when you do not even speak the same language? Do all texts need to be translated?"

"Well, some people learn several languages so that helps, and it just works... somewhat," he wasn't sure how to respond, was the question rhetorical.

"Unbelievable... Yet here you are, able to understand common," Epipollus mused. Now that he had mentioned it, wasn't he able to comprehend what Fahim's parents had said while they were the the classroom. He didn't know Dari, yet at the same time he didn't know 'common', he just understood.

"I think this might be important, but I think I can understand those other languages now, since I got the system a few days ago," if it was a fluke then the joke was on him.

“Your people unable to access the system before our arrival?” Epipollus mood suddenly darkened and he clasped his hands together.

“Well... no, I’m new to this whole thing,” was it wise of him to answer honestly, to admit his own weakness? Then something occurred to him, he was level four and the even the plain clothed goblins were nearing level ten. He was completely under leveled compared to the goblins, would that not be an indicator that he was new to the system. Or perhaps, the goblins could not examine others.

“That is particularly dire news... Pardon my manners, but what level are you Roy?” that confirmed it, Epipollus couldn’t see his level, name, nor HP. That was the reason he had stumbled when addressing Roy at first. Should he continue to be honest here, would it hurt to inflate his level by a smidgen, would it matter. He could say he was level 10 or even 15, but that was still a long way behind the warrior. That lie would afford him no safety. If he inflated his level too greatly he would be found out quickly.

Almost doubling his base constitution gave him endurance that far surpassed his peers and wiped away many of the discomforts he would have had living in this environment. Those changes were drastic and quite noticeable. He was also pathetically armed and armored compared to the warriors he had seen. He could pretend to be focused on AGI and DEX, like a rogue, or INT and WIS, like a wizard. Even then a few quick questions would quickly burst his bubble. He was at the mercy of his hosts.

“I’m currently level 8,” Roy finally responded, being too low level my mark him out as a weakling and good for nothing, at least this way he was a strong as the unarmed goblins. There was still the possibility that the goblins valued strength and culled the weak, if the goblins suspected he would point to his outrageous HP pool. It seemed to dwarf anything that was at his level,

“Again, apologies for prying. You’ve done a splendid job adapting, though I suppose constant danger has that effect on many,”

“Yeah, monsters and stuff suddenly popping out was a big surprise, it was really life and death back there,” Roy followed along with the conversation, eager to reinforce his own deceit.

“From what I gather, your world was quite safe before this great migration? No monsters and incursions from the Outside?” Epipollus seemed even more drained as he asked the question.

“No, most of us didn’t fight and at least our country was free from... danger,” Roy wasn’t caught up on the news and politics flew over his head, “I know that there are some places where wars are being fought and people are struggling, but yeah...”

“These wars, they are fought with your guns, those small compact missile weapons?” the goblin raised an eyebrow

“Well, there are bigger ones that can fire really quickly,” how was he supposed to explain modern weaponry to a goblin, he didn’t even quite grasp the variety of weapons out there, “larger ones we stick on machines with wheels. The bigger ones are canons.”

“There are also missiles that move by themselves and follow the enemy, some of them can go quite far and are really accurate,” Roy continued, where would he stop.

“These weapons, they are not magical? They rely on impact?” Epipollus stood and began to walk around the room.

“Some of them explode, and other can make things catch fire, we also have poison but a lot of people are against using that stuff,” it really was too much to deliver in a brief meeting.

“Pardon my ignorance, I have only seen the hand sized guns and the slightly larger arm sized variety,”

“No, it’s fine, I don’t really know much about your world either. The guns you saw were all probably used by the police and civilians. Only the military has some of the bigger stuff, like the really fast guns, the exploding missiles, and the moving mounted guns.”

“Your weapons do sound quite similar to the ones found in the Dominion,” Epipollus scanned the table and then sighed, “it is quite unfortunate that many of my texts are lost, I will have to reserve judgement until I can further study them.”

“Right, is there anything else Mr. Epipollus?” the goblin seemed to have descended into monologueing.

“Ah,” Epipollus turned his attention back to Roy, “I have the lamentable habit of getting quite sidetracked. I’m afraid the information you have provided has put quite a damper on things. Without levels and being so new to the system, this is quite a catastrophe for your world.”

“I would even call it apocalyptic, I don’t know if you know, but all these houses used to have people living in them.”

“I suspected but...” the goblin shook his head, “that only makes the next topic more time sensitive.”

“I see,” they had been catching up earlier but this was probably the important bit of information Hog had mentioned.

“Have you seen any moving fungi recently?” that caught Roy off guard, it sounded so silly but at the same time he had seen the victims of the fungi.

“Yes, a few.”

“It is a fortunate that there were only a few, they congregate in large swarms and are quite a calamity. It appears that their ecosystem has been transported to your world, furthermore, and most distressing. They are only a short walk north of this very town,” Epipollus took a moment for straighten his clothing.

“The whole migration between worlds seems quite messy; many things have been shifted to fit with your world. Layered atop like a paste and then left to settle. We used to be much further away from the fungi, now they are at our doorsteps.” Epipollus pulled out a piece of paper from under the world map. On it, drawn in black ink, was a rough map of the town. Paint had been used to mark down several patches of the map.

“The purple,” the goblin gestured at the mass of color that filled up the whole top half of the page, “represent the spread of the fungi.”

“The green,” covering the hills to the north-west of town, “are the vineborns, they cull the fungi but attack anything they come upon.”

“That,” the goblin pointed to a small square with incomprehensible words written within, “is where a group of human survivors have entrenched themselves. It is the large building Hog found you around. That position is quite untenable, we have tried to communicate with your fellows but hey seem to fire at us without warning. We plan to move southwards out of the marsh and would highly recommend your people do so as well.”

With that Epipollus leaned back on his chair and stared at Roy intently, “So you want me to be a messenger?”

“Well, yes, a bit of convincing might also be in order.”

“Why do they shoot on sight, did you try talking to them. I don’t know if they’ll listen to me, I mean I’m still a teenager and there are probably a bunch of adults in there, maybe even police.”

“Attempts to communicate were met with little success; we are partly at fault for an accident that occurred on the first day.”

“An accident?”

“A small fragment of a clan were transported to your town hub, they were met by two men whom we now recognize as town guardsmen of sorts.”

“Police officers?” Roy had a bad feeling about this.

“The group was told to stop, drop their weapons, and slowly raise their arms...”

“But they didn’t.”

“They were unfamiliar with your customs and approached the two men after sheathing their weapons.”

“And the police fired their guns, right?” Roy grimaced, this was bad, especially if he wanted to convince the group in the grocer’s, it wouldn’t be a surprise to him if the group gathered around police officers and other emergency personnel.

“Precisely, they then engaged in a brief skirmish that led to the severe injury of both guardsmen. We try to instill the need to avoid vitals because misunderstandings like these occur from time to time, but it appears your people were still greatly displeased.” Epipollus finished the recount and the two sat for a moment in silence.

“I don’t know, shooting police officers or ‘town guards’ seems like it’ll put off a lot of people,” it really wasn’t unexpected, drawing guns and arresting suspicious personnel seemed like such a modern and normal thing. It was probably different on the other side.

“Exactly, which is why we require your aid. The survivors will be quickly swallowed up by the fungi if they continue to current course. They need not come with us, but moving south is essential.”

“That sounds possible I guess,” it probably wasn’t, “how long do I have?”

“Splendid, we suspect that the concentration of fungi around the survivors will grow with time. Though we cannot give you a precise time, if they do not run out of ammunition, holding the building for another week or two is not impossible.” Epipollus seemed to further relax and clapped his hands.

“I’ll try,” the attack of the mushrooms was a real threat and now that he had the information he couldn’t stand idle. He would report it to the survivors and decide on a further course from there.

“Anything else my friend,” Epipollus pushed back his chair and made to stand as Roy loosened his attention.

“Maybe some other time,” he had questions about the intricacies of the system and various aspects of the other world, but that could wait. He never suspected that a conversation could be so intense and tiring, it was further compounded by the event earlier in the day.

“I am looking forward to it, as for now. It is approaching sundown and the wildlife become quite active after the sun sets. Perhaps you will stay for the night?” Epipollus offered, “We have quite a few talented chefs and though our lodgings are quite bare, they are safe.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer then,” he certainly wasn’t going to trudge through the water in pitch darkness. As Epipollus led him back through the maze of draping fabric a thought occurred to Roy and he examined the goblin chief. Contrary to his expectations the goblin was only level 21, a ways behind the goblin warrior he had passed by earlier. Was it skills and abilities that distinguished the chief from the others, or did the goblins respect some other trait instead of strength?