CHAPTER III - MEETING THE FAMILY
Meekka opened the door, which swung easily on hinges as if counterweighted. Beyond that threshold there was a courtyard where familiar farm animals were milling about as well as an adult human. Facing the wall door was a large stone work, two story house.
The human, a burly, bearded, red-headed male, in his early thirties, rose up from shoeing a horse and with a hammer in hand approached Meekka and Ansha. His eyes were angrily set on the latter who again held her hands up in a futile demonstration of being unarmed.
“PAPA! NO!” Meekka screamed.
“Why have you brought this goblin home with you, Meekka!?” he asked.
“Sir… sir… please, I am NOT a goblin!” Ansha said immediately.
“She isn’t, papa!” Meekka said. “She pushed me out of the way of a saber tooth!”
The man stopped to consider the words spoken. “She is green and short. If she ain’t a goblin, what is she?”
“Uhm…” Meekka struggled to answer then turned to Ansha.
“I am…” Ansha also struggled as the Prime Directive was a line she didn’t want to cross. She had little choice though. “I am… a… Wind People… sir”
“A what?” the man said.
“I am a Wind People…fungal… colony. See I am actually a fungal colony. A sentient fungal colony.”
“A fungal colony?” the man replied in disbelief.
“Yes, sir,” Ansha replied. “I… uhm… come in peace…though I am not exactly sure how I got here or why.”
“To steal pigs?” the man asked in an accusatory tone.
“Oh no, no sir,” Ansha exclaimed. “I…I…. I do not eat meat.”
“What is going on out here?” an alto female voice called out from the front door of the house. A very tall, and very large woman with black hair and blue eyes, wearing a long dress and apron like Meekka’s outfit walked into the courtyard. She was holding an unsheathed, greatsword in one hand and the sheath in the other. “Meeka, what are you doing with a goblin?”
“I am not a goblin,” Ansha said fearfully.
“She isn’t a goblin,” Meeka said, now shielding Ansha from her family. “Aunt Leelo, she’s not from here!”
“Leskka,” the man said, “she says she is some kind of fungal colony. I ain’t ever heard of no fungal colony that can walk and talk.”
The large woman, who towered over all present at 6’ 9”, looked for a second with head tilt. She then sheathed the greatsword and handed it to the Meekka’s father. She approached Ansha, who looked up at the giant woman, not sure what to do.
The woman looked at Ansha carefully while gently but firmly pushing Meekka out of the way. Leskka then knelt before Ansha and sniffed a couple of times. She then stood back up and turned to the man.
“She’s either been rolling in moss or she is telling the truth,” Leskka replied. “She smells like morels… and some kind of perfume… rose, jasmine… lemongrass? sniff… ya, there’s definitely a citrus note.”
“It is Enchantment by Estee Lauder” Ansha said carefully. “I have been told the scent suits me.”
Leskka stood back up and nodded with a warm smile. “It does. Plays off your loamy smell very well.” Ansha was too relieved to take any offense at being referred to as loamy. The giant woman seemed nice afterall and at least the smell wasn’t referred to as “gobliny”.
“Well,” the man inquired,”is it a goblin or not, Leskka?” Leskka examined some of Ansha’s superficial wounds from the tiger’s mauling, and with an incantation and a warm glowing hand healed them. Ansha was astonished at this demonstration of restoration magic. Even more surprising is that this healing ability worked on Ansha who has never had much luck being healed by anything but time and warm nutrient baths.
Leskka turned to the man and said, “Heddan, calm down. She’s not a goblin.” Leskka turned her attention to Meekka and asked, “Meekka, where did she come from?”, as though she already knew the answer but was looking for a confession.
Meekka looked at the ground. She seemed to harbor some sense of guilt from the looks of it.
“Meekka?” Leskka asked again of the penitent young human.
“Why is there a goblin in our courtyard?” another female voice called out from the house.
“She’s not a goblin, mama!” Meekka said, raising her head to address the woman.
“She isn’t a goblin, Helga,” Leskka concurred.
“Totally not a goblin,” Ansha replied, now quite shaken at how what little control she had was deteriorating with every new person coming from the house.
“Apparently,” Heddan added, still holding a hammer and Leskka’s sword and looking somewhat disappointed in not being able to kill a goblin.
This new woman, Helga, of average human height and size, with brown hair and brown eyes came to the group’s location in the courtyard now curious with this non-goblinoid stranger on their doorstep.
“Alright,” Helga said, crossing her arms, “what is she and what is she doing here?”
“I wish I knew,” Ansha said.
“She pushed me out of the way of a saber tooth’s pounce, mama!” Meekka said.
“Oh?” Helga replied. “Well she does look like she got the worst of that from her clothes.” Helga continued forward to have a closer look at Ansha. “Strange looking clothing at that.”
“Looks like some kind of uniform or something,” Leskka said.
“Says she’s some kind of walking talking fungal colony, if you can believe that,” Heddan said.
“Oh?” Helga said. Helga then looked at Ansha, “So, where are you from?”
“I…I… uhm,”Ansha stammered as she internally cursed her species’ inability to lie. “I am from… a place called…The Grove of the Sweet Wood.”
“I see,” Helga replied. “And where is that?”
“Uhm… well…” Ansha had no idea how to explain this in a way that wouldn’t violate the Prime Directive. “I am really not sure how to explain it, to be honest.”
“Try me,” Helga said in a voice that was obviously developed to compel children to give her honest answers.
“Uhm… you see, it’s a…” Ansha began to speak only to be interrupted again, this time by another female voice, alto again, but still from the house that seemed to hold an unlimited number of curious people.
“Hey, did you catch a goblin stealing pigs again?” the tall, large woman at the door called out. She was similar in build to the Leskka, but blonde, and holding a very young girl in her arms. “Why haven’t you killed it yet?”
“She’s not a Goblin, Jess,” Leskka answered back.
“Or so we’ve been told,” the skeptical Heddan replied.
“She’s not Goblin, Aunt Jess!” Meeka added.
“She’s too clean,” Helga confirmed. “Doesn’t smell like troll shit. Hmm… citrus notes.”
“I definitely try to avoid smelling like troll shit,” Ansha confessed to Helga.
“Alright then, what is she?” Jeskka asked, not walking towards the group still holding the toddler.
“I am a…” Ansha began only to be interrupted by Leskka.
“Mushroom Person,” Leskka said.
“Well, Wind People,” Ansha corrected.
“Mushroom People would be more accurate,” Helga said, smiling at Ansha. “That is if you are a fungus.”
“Well yeah, but…,” Ansha said trying to explain.
“Maybe she arrived here on the wind,” Heddan suggested. “You know, ‘cuz she is a Wind person.”
“Like what? Like she’s a sailor on a ship?” Jeskka asked.
“Might explain the weird clothing,” Helga said.
The family continued to discuss while Meekka turned to Ansha and said, “I’m sorry, Ansha. I think it was my fault you ended up here.”
“Well, being at your house is better than being mauled by a saber tooth tiger,” Ansha replied. “I think we are making inroads with your family.”
“No, I mean,” Meekka paused and looked down. She took the stone she was holding earlier from a belt pouch and showed it to Ansha. “The reason why you appeared here… in Nimalten… in Skyrim.” The stone was a smooth, flat, oval river stone, about 2 inches in diameter at its widest point. It was unremarkable save the runic script that was inscribed on it.
Suddenly there was a flash of light, a portal opened up in the courtyard, and from it stepped yet another woman. She spoke with authority, nothing like the rest, with an accent that was posh and elegant as she addressed the collective family members present. All other conversation ceased.
“Ah, I see a young Nordess has been fiddling with your Aunt Leskka’s portal stones again, haven’t you, Meekka.”
This woman was attired in a fine floor length dress that hid her feet, and wearing a robe with a hood. She seemed frail and slender compared to the rest of the crew surrounding Ansha. She walked with grace and determination that was almost unnerving as she seemed to float on air, but her voice was pleasant and soothing. She was also considerably shorter than the rest, only being a few inches taller than Ansha. As she walked forward and pulled back her hood. She was pale gray, with long white hair, red eyes, a long slender face, and pointed ears.
Ansha was unsure what species this woman was, but at least she was not springing to judgements.
“She’s not goblin, Lady Babs,” Heddan said proactively.
“I’m aware of that, Heddan. Thank you,” the woman said. She looked at Ansha and asked, “What is your name, sera?”
“Ansha Wind-People, ma’am” Ansha replied. It was a relief to finally talk to someone who wasn’t accusing her right off of being a goblin.
“I am Lady Babshooka Uthas, Dame of the Court of His Highness, King Casimer,‘’ the woman said. “You can call me Babs, though.” The woman smiled cheekily. “Now, from what realm do you hail, outworlder?”
Ansha didn’t know how to answer this question. “Realm?” she asked. Should she say Milky Way Galaxy? Would it be the Prime Universe? Her confusion was visible.
“No matter, it is obvious that your people aren’t used to traveling through realms,” Babs said. “It might be a challenge to get you back.”
“Ya, I was starting to think the same thing, Babs,” Leskka said.
“Me too,” Heddan added as though he had the brains or ability to do such.
Leskka thought for a moment, “We will have to go to my lab, and it would take a few days to set things up, but I think we can analyze the stone to determine where the portal had started and that will give us a return destination.”
Babs nodded to Leskka and said, “I think between the two of us, perhaps with your cousin Yyta’s help, we can produce enough power to get her back.”
“Teleportation is tricky,” Leskka said to Ansha.
“Damn straight it is,” Ansha agreed, taking stock of her current situation.
Babs then turned her focus to Meekka. “Now, Meekka,” Babs said to the young girl who became visibly nervous. “As the saying goes, confession is good for the soul.”
Meekka held up the portal stone and said “It was my fault. I… I was trying to use the stone to go to my friend Una’s house, so I wouldn’t have to deal with the saber tooth tigers. I think I did the spell wrong, Lady Babs.”
“You think?” Babs said to Meekka while looking at Ansha. She then turned back to Meekka. “You see what messing with magic and enchantments can do when you aren’t trained? You are fortunate you didn’t die… or worse… end up in Cyrodiil.”
“But, I watched you and Aunt Leelo so many times, I thought I…” Meekka resigned herself to this indictment and looked at Ansha. “I’m so sorry.”
“It will be fine, Meekka,” Ansha replied smiling. “It is a sublime experience being here as my people say… as long as I am not being mauled or killed.”
Ansha looked at everyone, and said, “Look, I do not want to be a bother. If you can just point to an inn or hotel or… “
“OH NO!” Helga said. “I will not have an outworlder guest of mine that my daughter accidentally conjured going to that… grimy, nasty, tavern in town. It is full of drunken lay-abouts, skooma dealers, skeeving horkers…”
“Skeeving what?” Ansha asked, with Helga not stopping her rant to answer.
“Horkers,” Jeskka answered.
“Oh,” Ansha said, as though she knew there was probably more to this than she was brave enough to ask.
“…curved swords,” Helga said, still ranting, “… curved… swords, Daedra worshippers, elves…” Helga paused and looked at Babs. “No offense, my lady,” she said to Babs.
“None taken,” Babs replied, who seemed to be used to it.
Helga continued, “…guards with persistent knee injuries talking about their glory days, former emperors, and those… people from Riften. Eegh… Oh no no no, Ansha, you will stay with us until we can get this straightened out. It is afterall New Life Festival and since it’s my daughter’s fault you are here it’s only right that we should give you a place to feel warm and safe.”
Heddan, still holding Leskka’s greatsword and his hammer, said, “Hope you like pork.”
Ansha frowned and nervously said, “I can not eat meat.”
Audible gasps could be heard as though Ansha, now standing before the main house of a pig farm that is owned by a clan whose very name of “Svineherdesen”, which in the ancient tongue basically means “pig herder”, has just committed a major cultural affront.
“You can’t?” Helga confirmed.
“There goes Helga’s reason for living, to fatten up all who cross her path,” said Jeskka, which earned the stink eye from Helga and a snicker from Heddan.
“No ma’am, I can not,” Ansha said. “I am very sorry. Seriously, I will be fine if you just tell me how to get to…”
“Well, dear, what do you eat,” Helga asked Ansha without malice, which was a relief to the Starfleet lieutenant who was very much out of her element.
“Uhm… oatmeal, sometimes cheese,” Ansha replied. “Not often, Causes constipation if I eat too much. Uhm… and wood…mostly wood, like hard wood. Rotten wood is a delicacy. Not like cedar or pine, they cause me to have the trots, but like maple, ash, oak, you know…hearty… more fiber.”
“Wood,” Helga replied, seeming satisfied by this answer. “Hmm.”
“Makes sense,” Leskka said. “She is a fungal colony.” she knelt down, smiling and looked at Ansha, “That is so interesting. Tell me, Ansha, do you like cow dung?”
Ansha offered a nervous smile to the large face that excitedly stared at her. “uh… yeah… I can eat that, but not pig or chicken poop…just herbivorel… poop.”
“Well, we’ve got plenty of bullshit around here,” Jeskka remarked.
Leskka continued her inquisition into Ansha’s dietary habits. “What about bread?”
“Yes,” Ansha replied. “Can eat bread.”
“Paydirt!” Leskka exclaimed as she stood back up.
“Then we have that solved,” Helga said. “Heddan, go to the lumbermill and ask them for some hardwood sawdust. I imagine they would be more than happy to give it to you. AND whatever you do, Heddan, do not tell them we have a visitor from another realm again.”
“Again?” Ansha asked, trying to confirm this was a regular occurrence to which Jeskka nodded and looked at Leskka who shrugged.
Helga continued, “ Just say it’s… it’s…”
“… for your sister,” Leskka blurted out. “Tell them I need it for alchemical components.” This gained approval from Helga, as she knows that when Leskka is used as an excuse for anything unusual, questions are not asked.
Heddan, still holding the sword and the hammer, looked upset at this further interruption from his chores. He handed Leskka back her sword and relented to the woman of the house, his wife, Helga. He stomped off, grumbling to the barn to get a horse ready for travel.
“I’ll go out in the woods and see if I can find some decaying logs for you, Ansha,” Jeskka said, “and maybe bag one of those cats.” she turns to the child in her arms. “‘cuz we need a need a new rug, don’t we wuvey pumpkins.” The young girl, Jacqueline, giggled. “You just wuv hunting with mommy don’t you?”
This prompted Ansha to wonder if Jeskka was going to bring the young child, whom she assumed was Jeskka’s daughter, into the woods, teaming with saber tooth tigers to collect wood and perhaps even hunt one of the dangerous predators with the same casual attitude of going to a park playground.
Helga approached Ansha and knelt before her. “Ansha, I am sorry you got pulled here, but, it is as I said, New Life Festival, and I don’t know what kind of festival seasons you and your kind celebrate, but it is only meet and right that we should welcome you into our home. I believe things happen for reasons, and even though my daughter is still going to have to do extra chores,” she looked at Meekka who did not make eye contact then back to Ansha, “I believe that the Divines sent you here for a reason, so that we may share our warm hearth with you and Mara, the Goddess of hearth and home, may be praised.”
“Well,” Ansha said, with a smile starting across her face, “Thank you, I am sure it will be a good experience.”
“Now,” Helga said, turning to her daughter, Meekka, “Take our guest with you and see if some of your dresses will fit her for now.” Helga then turned back to Ansha, “Those cats made a mess of your outfit.”
Just then another female voice, much higher pitched, from the road leading to the still open gate, called out. It was Yyta Kjensen, known colloquially as Piglet to the rest of the family.
“Sorry I’m late. What are you all standing around that goblin for,” the short, fat, blonde woman on horseback asked.
“SHE’S NOT A GOBLIN!” the rest of the family said in unison sparking a shocked response from the rider.
Piglet looked at those in the courtyard and sarcastically said, “Well happy New Life Festival to all of you too. Sheesh.”