THE TUBMOOFENING

“You say she can dragonshout?! Impossible!” The nameless merchant of the equally unimportant little village slammed his fist down on the notched slab of wood that served as his countertop. “One Dovahk-uhhhh…” Lips drooping down into a frown, the human laughed nervously as a large copyright symbol crashed through the patched roof of his shop and hovered menacingly overhead. Clouds of dust hovered around it forebodingly.
“Dragonslayer…? Y-yes. That is most certainly the thing I said. Not all those other consonants and vowels no no no.” Twiddling his fingers together nervously, the NPC shopkeeper held his breath as the entity hummed. Slowly, ever so slowly it reluctantly rose back up through the entrance it made.

He dared not speak until the humming faded. Hoh that was a close one. Bethesda was not to be fucked with. “One do-d-dr-dragonslayer. Yes. Very yes. One is bad enough! For fuck sakes he has all but bankrupted me with these stupid knives!” With a wide sweep of his arm the blonde haired human gestured back at the pile of metal behind him. Layers of steel upon steel, with some leather handles with gems embedded into them sticking out from hill of glistening metal, sat behind him. “He just stands at the forge for hours making these stupid things and then dumps them all into my lap when he’s done. Instead of going out into the world and saving us all from the reptilian scourge that threatens us all he just… ”
Head tilted back, a fluffy wolf peered up at the newly made skylight shining down. Clouds passed overhead and a gentle breeze wafted into the shop. He squinted his eyes as the pile of knives radiated blindingly amongst the rays of sunlight that filtered in. “Sooo… quit buying them?”

“Absolutely not.” Furiously shaking his head side to side, the well-weathered human was adamant. His brows furrowed as he looked to the debris resting upon his pristine countertop. He brushed away the planks of wood and bundled reeds that had once served as his roof. “Refuse to buy from the megalomaniac that can refresh and rewrite reality at his whims? Do you know what he did to the blacksmith when he refused him access to his forge? Do you?” The human’s eyes nearly bulged out as he leaned over the counter and glowered at the wolf.
The canine fearfully reared back. “N-no?”
“Cheese. Hundreds if not thousands of fucking cheesewheels inside his house. Inside his shack. Inside his forge. Inside his CLOTHES. Everywhere, CHEESE. Where his bed once was, mozzarella. Where his metalworking apron once hung in his closet? Gouda. Where his shoes sat propped against his door? Cheddar. The poor man went insane.” Arms wrapped around his chest the NPC shuddered. “And then one day. It was just gone. Like it never happened. The ddddddddragonslayer. Phew. Yes, the dragonslayer stopped by his forge. Cheesewheel tucked under his arm. It was a warning. A sign.” A heavy sigh escaped from the human’s lips. “…And since that day no one has dared deny him.”
A chill ran up the wolf’s spine at the thought. Dreams, or at least that’s what he prayed they were, flooded back to him. Of how terrifying locomotives from the future flew through the sky instead of the dread dragons. Piercing whistles instead of roars announcing their presence. “I-I understand. Thankfully though… I do not believe this heroine possesses such powers. She didn’t shout so much as she ermm… belched. Story goes that the beast was not shackled to the ground so much as it was simply blown away!”
Rubbing at his stubbled chin the merchant hmmed aloud. “This heroine? Does she have a name?”
“Balina, I believe!” Plopping a padded hand upon the counter the lightly armored wolf slid the human a gold coin. He stuffed the potion, frothing and red in color, he received in turn into his pocket.

What does one do once they’ve saved the world from yet another nameless threat? I mean, in between the downtime that separates one nameless big bad from the next. The threat of imminent doom is staved off yet evil, in all its banal manifestations, still remains. Do you tackle injustice both big and small? Fight to restore the world ruined but saved? Or do you just make up arbitrary new challenges for yourself to kill the time? …Alright let’s just be perfectly honest with ourselves of course it’s the last one. Now which arbitrary quest did this heroine, this Balina of lore, burden herself with? Taking on every quest available and voraciously claiming everything within reach as her reward it turns out. Let’s take a look, shall we?

A curled fist, fluffy yet tipped with clawed fingertips, went sailing through the… was the name really that important? Balina rubbed her other hand against the side of her head. Ehhh, not really. All these mineshafts were the same. She shook her left hand to and fro to send the rotting wooden door clutched tight to her wrist crashing to the rocky ground below.
“Now lessee… do I just bulldoze through this for the reward or stockpile everything along the way?” The moof, wide as she was tall, grunted as she forced her way through the narrow pass. Sparks lit up the area as her heavy armor scraped against the curved rock walls. She exhaled in relief when she stumbled into an open room lined wall to wall with spider-web covered crypts. Stalactites dipped down dangerously low from the ceiling. Icy cold water dripping down from this place’s rocky fingertips that looked as if they threatened to strangle and suffocate anything that dared enter this place.
Water dripped down along the contours of the moof’s spiked shoulders and came to rest upon her heaving fluffy bust. “Hmmmm. Well to start off with let’s see what stat isn’t at level 100?” Hands resting upon her broad hips the heroine of yesteryear she shook side to side. Her inventory sack brushed back and forth heavily against her back. Relaxing her shoulders she let it drop to the uneven ground with a thwack. “One-handed?” Balina pulled out a sword and pouted. “No. Two-handed?” Once more her hand vanished into the pocket universe that was her sack of loot and retrieved a battle axe. “Nah.” She chucked it behind her and paid it no mind as the earth split beneath its curved head.
Low groans sounded out from the crypts while the Dragu- A low and terrible humming echoed feverishly within the mountain as boulders and pebbles started to rain down from the ceiling.
“Alright, alright! Zombies. The icy kind. Zombsicles, I don’t care what I call them I’m going to kill them regardless.” Brows furrowed, Balina glared up at ceiling. The humming halted and once more the Copyright was pleased.
After an extended pause the Zombsicles took to groaning once more. They impatiently awaited for her to activate the instance.
“Yeah yeah yeah I’m getting there.” Shaking her head side to side the moof fished out a bow. “Archery? Nope. Argh, shields?” She groaned as she tried curling her thick fat fingers around the tiny steel bar bolted into the back of a wooden buckler. Nyyyyope. “Come on!” Mooing in frustration she slung it aside like a frisbee. It whistled while it sailed forward and all but embedded itself into an errant crypt. It tilted over onto its side and slammed into the puddled ground with a ruinous crash and splash.
The Zombsicles gingerly poked their heads out from their hidey holes and looked to one another in confusion. A couple groans and shrugs later they came to the consensus that, yes, technically that did count as activating the instance. With a spring and shuffle in their step they lurched towards the moof.
“Aw shoot,” Balina cursed to herself. Her eyebrows arched as an epiphany struck her. She clapped her hands together and balled a fist into her palm. “Never did sink too much time into Magic.” A green aura surrounded her broad fluffy frame. “Or Unarmed.” Energies magical in nature trickled down her back and up her legs and coalesced just above the moof’s hips. Pillars of magic extended out from the sides of her body. Twisting and writhing and ultimately willed into the shapes of additional limbs. Smirking, Balina pounded her fluffy fists against her ethereal ones.
“Waiiiit. Does this count as Destruction Magic?” A green and transparent index finger scratched at one of her soft puffed out cheeks. “Only one way to find out!” A mooing cackle bellowed forth from Balina’s maw as she lumbered towards the slowly advancing threats. Her every footfall shaking stalactites free from the ceiling and sending ripples coursing through the puddles along the ground she raced into battle!
She swung a fist of the fluffy kind forward as a Zombsicle came into range. As its jaw simply flew off its withered face a magical limb clutched at its ragdolling form. It promptly shook and bopped the poor undead thing against the ground to shake free any loot as Balina simply lumbered off towards the next target. The transparent limb proudly held up a pilfered potion before the moof’s soft snout.
“Toss it in,” Balina casually commanded as she sent another Zombsicle flying with an uppercut. While one ghostly limb flicked off the corked top and poured the blue and bubbly contents into her maw the other grabbed hold of the now airborne foe’s leg. With a rip it came clean off while its owner embedded themselves somewhere into the rocky ceiling. The moof’s extra extra limb somehow managed to snag a loaf of bread off the thing even though the Zombsicle’s main body was somewhere off in the nebulous direction of up. Without even having to be asked it shoved the puffy pastry into Balina’s hungry maw.
Smacking her lips and chewing loudly she made just as quick of work of the remaining undead. “Alright so…” In between chews she surveyed the mess of bones and limbs sitting around her. “One of these has something or other to check off a quest list.” Plodding around the cavernous room she took to shaking down every errant limb within sight. “Empty. Empty. Augh no, I just checked your torso. Empty. Empty. Ah! Here we go!” Fluffy hands resting upon her hips, Balina’s magical ones gleefully twiddled some sort of key between their bloated fingers. “Now for… whatever that reward was.” Waddling on back towards the entrance, sparks flying off from her thunderous thighs every time those thick armored legs chafed together, she dragged her sack of loot behind her along the coarse and rocky ground. Every so often her additional limbs would pap at her thick soft wrist so. With a smirk Balina ripped open the sack of crushing loot’s burlap mouth and allowed them to stuff stray gold coins and the occasional helmet inside it.

“Oh brave adventurer, we can’t thank you enough for reclaiming this precious heirloom for us!” Bowing in gracious thanks, the… fuck it. The not-Khajit bowed before the moof.
The moof’s eyes darted back and forth. No humming, no nothing? Really? Shit if she had known it was that easy she would have started calling everything their not-Skyrim names ages ago. “I won’t ask why you wanted that key of your ancestor’s corpse to gain access to some treasure they purposefully locked away. Not like they wanted it that way for a reason.” Shrugging, Balina turned her attention to the lavishly set table within this latest questline’s home.
“Ahh well you see!” Clearing his throat, the not-Khajit began to speak.
“Uh huh.” Sinking her hands, all of them both real and magical, into the edge of the table she hoisted it above her head. Tilting its contents towards her she greedily inhaled everything placed upon it of value. The silverware, the food, the candles. Anything with a Gold value, essentially. “Fascinating,” she mumbled with a mouth full of wax and wine when she realized her grunts wouldn’t be enough to keep the conversation moving along.
Tail gone limp and flopped against the ground the feline clenched his teeth and worriedly took in the sight before him. “I uhh… was going to offer you a reward but I can see you’re well on your way to helping yourself.” Biting into his lip he recoiled as the moof started taking massive bites out of the table itself. “Just take what you want and go.” With a resigned sigh he slouched forward.
Deafening crunches sounded out as Balina effortlessly crushed planks of wood between her jagged teeth. Her armor groaned and plates of steels buckled out of place upon her not-Daedric armor while she visibly expanded. “Don’t mind if I do,” she huskily mumbled as she plodded off into the kitchen. The entire house shook with her every footfall. Ceiling rafters shifting out of place while dust rained down from the ceiling.
The not-Khajit could only sigh as the sounds of plates crashing, glasses smashing, and deafening nomfs bellowed out from the next room. Well, at least he still had a house to call his own. It wasn’t like a Gold value had been assigned to his home and… shit. Had it? No. No no no that’s right the latest expansion allowed for Players to purchase homes! “Just don’t say anything, maybe she won’t notice…” he feverishly told himself while he quietly waited for her to finish gorging herself. The not-Khajit’s heart leapt up into his throat when a plump padded hand ripped a doorframe free from his living room and ruinous chews and smacks sounded out shortly after.
Cursing under his breath, the feline bolted out the door. “Damn dynamic world!” Augh. Guess he’d be living out of inn for the time being. Hopefully players couldn’t buy those. Yet.
“Hard day’s work deserves a hard day’s pay and all that.” Licking her lips, Balina stuffed entire beds and dressers down her maw. Voice dropping down in octave as she blimped up and out, the moof took bigger and bigger bites out of her reward. The tables had a nice nutty taste and crunch to them that tickled against her tongue as those massive teeth rendered it nothing more than shattered shards of wood. Whereas the walls had a dry but crunchy texture. Not exactly filling.
Turning her head side to side Balina noticed she was clad only in conveniently form-fitting underwear. “Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged the default clothing to scale with me. Whatevs.” Having long since exploded out of her armor she plunked those misshapen bits of steel between her lips while she was at it. Waste not, want not after all. Then there was the roof… so scratchy against her forehead as she rose up and out of the home! Just as itchy when she plucked it off her nubby horns and crammed it into her cheeks. Throat bulging, she swallowed it whole and exhaled heavily as it settled heavily into her gut. Rubbing against her distended gut with all four of her arms she urped and burped contentedly. “Hmmm. Wait a minute. I’m the not-Thane of this town, right? So I should have a house to myself.”
She hmmed and nodded to herself. That sounded right so it must be so. “Soooooo with that being the case.” Balina turned her head to the side. Her soft chin brushed against her mountainous mammaries while she surveyed the hilly land for what was soon to be arbitrarily declared her next meal errr domicile. Fingers twiddled against her taut and distended belly, each one thummed loudly against the stretched tight fur and flesh. “How about… you!” Snickering to herself, she extended a fatty fat index finger out before her. Digits chafing against one another they settled upon a squat brick domicile. Replete with a billowing chimney, outdoor forge, and well it was everything she could have ever asked for. It would be hers, oh yes. Erfff. Hold on.
Balina armooed to herself when she squinted and observed it in greater detail. What the hell was all that orange and yellow stuff piled up alongside it and lining the windows? Was that… was that cheese? Shrugging, the house-sized and nearly naked moof lumbered off towards her next haul. Fat feet leaving ruinous craters in the earth behind her, Balina jiggled her belly in anticipation. Fuck it, not like she was lactose intolerant.