Scene #5664: Black Dog Strut

Owner	Pose
Carna	The Four Caverns are a mix of crazy elemental influences. They can still be quite the dangerous place to live, but even though they are even more chaotic, they are somehow less dangerous than when each Cavern was individually focused and dominant in its element. Particularly, this is the case with the Cavern of Death. Actually setting up one's home there is still something few would do who aren't fully equipped for dealing with undead of every description, as well as various types of elemental hazards, but at the very border of the Four Caverns tends to be as fine a place as any. That's what one town has thought when they found themselves Unified at that location a little over a year ago and decided not to move. Now their streats are painted red in great bright splashes, and the air is thick with the scent of decay. There's no sign of bodies, but there's every indication they were here, and not too long ago. Clouds of heavy smoke fill the sky overhead, turning the sun into a dim orange blur like a candle inside a pumpkin. The carnage in the town is at complete odds with the pristine, beautiful green fields, of both crops and wild grass, all around it.
Wandering Dog	Wandering Dog was, as per his name, a traveller. The Multiverse was big and beautiful and full of all sorts of new experiences, and he had a map that he was slowly crossing through, trying to see as much as he could. Right now, he was travelling through the 'Four Caverns'. As he saw a village in the distance, the Westerner approached, hoping to meet kind people and share stories and wares. Instead, he saw blood. Wandering Dog cautiously moved through the streets, ducking briefly to confirm if it was actually blood, before attempting to track through the trail to see if the blood leads anywhere. "Show yourself, bastards, if you're even still here!" One normally shouldn't shout out in what is obviously a massacre. But Wandering Dog had no fear, and he was going to find out what happened and brought whoever caused it to justice. His own brand of Creation justice, that is.
Carna	No cry answers Wandering Dog. No one meets his challenge. But in his search, while the insides of buildings are truly a charnel slaughterhouse, toppled furniture, dripping light fixtures, and recently prepared food slowly going cold on the floor, there is one building that stands pristine and untouched in the middle of town. A church, of no identifiably specific denomination. Or some sort of temple-like buildings, at least. It is surrounded by an iron-wrought fence, with a pair of large gates. They may seem... Somehow familiar. Like maybe he saw them in a dream.
Wandering Dog	Wandering Dog frowns at the lack of a response. How long has it been? While the buildings don't reveal anything...the church feels so familiar. But he knows he hasn't been here before. He takes a moment to glance at the gates, before attempting to open them. If they won't open, he can try and force them open, and if that doesn't work, he's going to climb the fence and go inside to see what's inside the church. Something about this is strange, and he needs to find out why it's so familiar.
Carna	The gates open creakingly, wet redness coming away from them on Wandering Dog's hand. Someone was here, touching these same gates. Minutes ago. Maybe even seconds ago. Whether the killer or a victim is unclear yet. But it almost feels like there should be something waiting on the other side of the gates for him. There isn't. Whereas everything outside the church grounds is some mix of damaged in a struggle or bizarrely intact despite the gruesome new colors added, inside the fence everything is just plain untouched. There is a cemetery, sizable but with most of its space unusued, indicating a town that is neither young nor old. There are still no specific religious icons anywhere, despite the design of it. It smells strongly of dog. The inside of the chuch is more incensey-smelling once he enters, but there are still signs of at least one canine resident, in the clumps of black fur that have yet to be sweeped outside. The inside of the church is, much like its cemtery, sizable, but a bit too large for the town's needs, even if every building had a whole family living in it. It is well-made. The artistry that went into it is clear. And on a few moments after entering, the sound of canine nails scrabbling at stones and the carpet down the center aisle begin to fill Wandering Dog's ears, though there is no visual sign of a dog. Not until black flames condense a few feet away, and a great black dog with glowing red eyes stands before him, snarling and growling protectively.
Wandering Dog	The smell of dog. Wasn't he just dreaming about a dog last night? A dog and a church. It's sort of coming to him, but Wandering Dog shakes it off, heading inside. When he hears the sound of a dog scratching to go with the scent, the martial artist takes a defensive stance, and then sees the flames. Some sort of monster. There's a grin on his face, as he puts his hands out for combat. "Alright, you mutt. You caused this, didn't you? Some sort of demon? Well, I'll show you what happens to monsters." His stance changes, as suddenly, Wandering Dog's dashing forward, moving to punch a fist straight into the black dog's jaw. "I, Wandering Dog, will be your downfall! It's only a shame there'll be no one here to watch me put you down, mutt!"
Carna	The dog dissolves back into black fire, seeming to flow up the fist that swings at it, crawling up the arm it is connected to and then coalescing into a beast again above Wandering Dog, jaws agape, ready to close on the back of his neck with a ferocious growl. And then, as if in answer to Wandering Dog's remark about no one being around to see this, a human woman's voice calls out, "KIRK, DON'T!" The dog pauses in mid-attack, and instead tries to push itself off of the intruder with one strong, frying-pan-sized paw, and land just inside the church's doors instead. The source of the voice is a young woman in some sort of priestess garb. Not quite a nun, but semi-similar. Who is 'Kirk'? She can't be talking to Wandering Dog, right? But who names a monster? Unless... The dog isn't the monster?
Wandering Dog	As the dog begins climbing up Wandering Dog's arm and moves to snap at the back of his neck, he's suddenly jerking to go to punch it...when the woman shouts. His fist stops mid-flight at the same time of the dog, and as it pushes itself off him, he's leaping back, straightening his stance as he stares at the woman. A sorcerer of some sort? Wandering Dog's not sure why she's here, but he's not treating her as innocent, just yet. "You have some explaining to do, girl. This village is a bloodbath, and you have a giant demon dog. I'll give you ten seconds to show you're civil." If she doesn't respond to him or shows any hostile actions within the next ten seconds, Wandering Dog moves to strike at her. If she does respond to him, he maintains his defensive stance. "Start talking."
Carna	The woman recoils in fear at Wandering Dog's warning, and the dog growls protectively again as it circles around to be closer to her, keeping its distance from the clearly very fast and skilled warrior. Which of them is the faster or stronger would be a test that might leave both with wounds at the least. "M-my name is Laryssa. Laryssa Seguin. I'm just an acolyte here at the temple!" At the demand for information, she shakes her head, but not in refusal to answer. "Some terrible monster came. It has been out there... Killing everyone. It doesn't seem to be able to enter the church grounds. Perhaps it fears Kirk." Wandering Dog was probably already aware of it due to his much closer look at it, but when contrasted with the tinier, average-height woman, that is one very large dog. Taller than a man. He steps lightly near here, picking his way between pews and candle stands and decorations with delicacy and care. "I am NOT a demon," Kirk answers in a human voice, though without moving his mouth to accompany the words. Maybe some sort of thought-as-verbal-speech trick. Laryssa reaches out to touch Kirk's side. "Kirk is a Church Grim. Also known as a 'black dog'. He protects the church and church grounds from defilers. We had more people here, but they went out to find family members and... They never came back." Laryssa looks down, and Kirk turns his head to nuzzle the side of her face. Kirk then turns large, suspicious red eyes on Wandering Dog. "And what of you? Who are you, and why are you here?"
Wandering Dog	"Spirit, then." Wandering Dog replies to, about Kirk. He's not overly surprised he can talk, and relaxes his guard, as Laryssa seems to not be a threat. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Wandering Dog opens his stance to show such, before turning to glance at Kirk. "Name's Wandering Dog. I'm a travelling martial artist. I saw this town in my travels and came across the blood. Where did all the bodies go? And what or where is this monster?" Wandering Dog moves to actually start stepping towards the entrance, trying to see if anything's changed. "I'll slay it. Just show me the way and I'll put it out of its misery. Nothing difficult. Least I can do while I'm here, make sure your future is safe." He flashes her a smile, trying to give her some confidence, as he grins at Kirk. "After all, two dogs is better than one. ...You remind me of a dream I had last night, dog. Coincidences all abound, huh? Or perhaps fate."
Carna	Laryssa relaxes a bit, and while Kirk does not seem to be fully convinced of trusting a stranger, he does seem to diminish in size as black flames pour off his body, making him more like to the scale of a largish dog. Maybe a mix of black lab and setter. Though still with those red eyes, always watching for danger to the place and people in his charge. Even if almost all of them are gone now. Laryssa says, "Wandering Dog... That is... An interesting name. Almost prophetic, yes." She has to agree, though there is of course the sadness that he could not have come sooner. "My sister..." She closes her eyes and one hand idly pets Kirk's head, more to comfort her than him. The tear tracks on her cheeks, the redness of her eyes, may stand out a bit more now that the intensity of potential violence has eased. "Lisa almost made it. She was right there. Right at the gates. And then that... Thing took her." Kirk makes a whining sound. "If she had just made it past the gates, I could have protected her. I SHOULD HAVE protected her! All of them...!" His guilt-laden words are cut off by Laryssa tilting his head up to look at her. She smiles sadly. Then she looks to Wandering Dog. "It keeps taking people to the east, beyond the storehouses. I don't know if they're still there... Or if the monster is even still around. Every time I think it's gone, whenever someone comes out of hiding and tries to make it, like... Lisa... That's when it strikes. Like it..." She angrily, tears starting to flow again, no longer able to be contained by an attempt at remaining calm. "...It's like it WANTS to steal hope from people! It wants them to despair before they die, to let them think they might escape, and then TAKE that from them!" Kirk looks at Wandering Dog intently. "You seem strong. But if you can not defeat it on your own, try to bring it closer. If it enters the church grounds, you will have my help."
Wandering Dog	"She made it to the gates?" Wandering Dog can imagine what happened. He had a similar dream. And he knows how he awoke from that dream. If that's what's happening to these people...he cracks his knuckles. "She'll be avenged. I'll be back soon. If I get bored of fighting it one on one, I'll come back to team up, Kirk." Wandering Dog heads out, a single wave, before looking at a device on his wrist and glancing east. "Stay safe." Wandering Dog heads east, as he has so many times - heard a story, and then sought out the monster to bring it back dead. But he'd never done this in the Multiverse. Heading for the storehouses, Wandering Dog first checked for the sight of blood - if it lead inside, he'd head into them, otherwise he'd circle around the back. "Come out here, monster. You want to kill this village? You'll have to get through me." The martial artist bellows, fist outstretched to the sky. "So let's get this over with." Wandering Dog prepares his senses. He's focusing only on where the monster might come from, focusing on his hearing, so that he can turn to be ready for it.
Carna	"Please be careful!" Laryssa calls after Wandering Dog as he leaves. His walk should be brief. It's not a large town, though a sizable one. Store fronts, homes, a simple playground, all abandoned, all stained in violence. The blood trail never really diminishes. It leads everywhere equally. If not for being given directions, he could have spent time searching all over without knowing where the bodies were taken. But as he gets closer and closer to the warehouses, the blood trail abruptly narrows, and becomes so thick as to turn some unpaved ground into red mud, trampled over and over by monstrous feet. The smell of death is stronger here. Not just recent death but much older decay. Ancient even. Just around the corner... Just around the corner, he might be able to see what has become of the bodies... Then there is a loud sound, and a shadow falls over him. Leaning over a rooftop to look down at him from pinpoints of icy blue light in otherwise empty sockets the size of swimming pools, is some giant beast, rotted away completely but still somehow with black fur clinging to its skeletal frame. Like a terrible distortion of Kirk, a mockery of that faithful protector. But so much larger. So much older. And very distinctly Undead. it only observes him for a moment. Then it clambers over the building it is very much taller than, cavernous jaws agape, and tries to do to him what it did to countless townsfolk and a girl named Lisa too.
Wandering Dog	Wandering Dog stares down briefly at the blood, and then moves to try and glance at the bodies...but he doesn't get a chance. The monster is here. He stares it in the eyes. Not just any monster, but one from beyond death. An abomination that shouldn't be around, should be rotting somewhere. "Alright, then. Let's put you down." As the beast moves to snap up Wandering Dog, he's leaping upwards, moving to slam his fist into its face, oil protruding from his motions in an ink-like fashion. while the other hand moves to prepare itself for a technique. He's primarily using his superhuman strength to try and push it back, not wanting to get eaten. "Unlike the rest...I won't go down so easily!"
Carna	This monster is not as nimble as Kirk. It can not discorporate into flames to evade a strike. While not clumsy, it is a very large target, simple to strike for most people, let alone one of Wandering Dog's exceptional prowess. It takes the blow to the side of its jaw, the skull jerking to the side and splintering, though being undead, it shows no recognition of the injury, no hesitation, recoil of pain, or anything else. Just a deeply unnatural hunger, an emptiness that it needs to fill even if it never can. Even as its attempt to bite it turned aside, those pinpoints of light continue to remain fixed on Wandering Dog, as one one of its fur-and-bones legs smashes through a building with a cacophonous BOOOOOOM sending masonry and timber flying and collapsing everywhere. Its ribs creak and bend, and then stretch out as boney tendrils, shooting at quickly at the hero, with greater speed and precision than the rest of it is capable of.
Wandering Dog	Wandering Dog's blow struck true, but the monster is still moving. He didn't expect something that big to go down that easily, but it still seems entirely fine. Alright, time to change things up, then. Luckily, he has a style specifically for fighting the undead. As the rib-tendrils slam out at Wandering Dog, he moves to dodge several of them, though two pierce in the side of his tunic, which soaks some of it but is torn through as it pierces into him, spilling crimson blood. Luckily, that's not all it takes to tear down one of the Dragon-Blooded. Wandering Dog instead moves to try and force them out of him, moving to flip on top of one and start running across it. "Take THIS, you abomination!" Fists go flying in a flurry at the beast, as Wandering Dog moves to leap into the air and kick off and backwards off of the thing's head. It's huge, and he's not sure how much it could take...but he does want to conserve his power. So instead, it's just the blows of oil and smoke, energy wreathing his hands as he strikes multiple times. Can he get it on its ropes...?
Carna	The multiple anti-undead martial arts strikes send more cracks and fractures through the bones, and fur that clung to the skeleton mostly out of stubbornness and grease to slough off disgustingly, practically dripping to the ground. It staggers and falls from the force and the destruction being wrought to it. Large portions of his skull are gone, half of it, in fact, and its lower jaw hangs loosely. It has crushed an entire house under it in its fall, but persistently works to get back up and chase after its prey again... Though this time sweeping a clawed limb through a roof and hurling the destroyed pieces at Wandering Dog as improvised projectiles. Is it more than mindless monster? Or is this, too, part of is unearthly instincts? It seemed to take particular care to only kill targets given in to despair. But Wandering Dog is not one to succumb so easily. Perhaps, in recognizing this, it is doing away with playing with its food, and simply trying to destroy him as a threat. Either way, it's sure not going to be eating him any time soon with its jaw all mangled and swinging in the wind like that.
Wandering Dog	As the the thing still stands, Wandering Dog prepares to use his final strike, though he's moving back far enough that those in the church can probably hear the fight. As the projectiles come flying at him, the martial artist concentrates, and golden light surrounds him, reducing the damage as the strikes slam into him and send him flying back. As he bleeds, he starts smacking his own pressure points, causing the wounds to begin to heal. Taking a deep breathe, then, Wandering Dog moves to leap and charge fist first into the thing, hoping to strike true. "Face the light of my FIST!" He shouts loud enough to be heard for quite a distance. On impact, after several seconds, a light would begin to glow, and then strike through the being to the sound of a golden bell. It'd burst radiantly, and then several more would flow from the strike, hoping to pierce through it at all points if successful. Wandering Dog hopes it is. This needs to end.
Carna	The attack from Wandering Dog is powerful, destructive to the undead, and the already-damaged monster, great as it is, charges towards its attacker as if sensing what is about to happen if it does not kill him first. But the technique strikes true, tearing through it like a spear of light, and then exploding it from the inside out, sending fragments of it flying everywhere. However, those pieces, while some may damage buildings, seem to be dissolving. Turning into a mist of a sort of... Soul-slurry. Fragments of stolen spirits, all forged together into this monstrosity, and now disintegrating. And they flow directly to Wandering Dog, forming a cold pit, a sort of reservoir that exists both inside and outside of himself. Like... An energy reserve? An intangible pocket full of frigid coins? Some power was absorbed from the monster, but it does not feel at all malicious or harmful. The monster is slain. If it had been someone other Wandering Dog who faced it... Or if he did not have the means to fight the undead... The fight might have ended differently. But it was him, and as a hero who has faced many foes, he was equipped with the means to protect the last survivors of this town. Though, the fate of the bodies is still unknown. It does not appear that the monster ate them. Its insides were exposed enough to reveal there was nothing within. They should be just beyond that warehouse, at the end of the blood trail... Right around the corner...
Wandering Dog	Wandering Dog takes a step back as the spirits fly at him, moving to try and block it...but instead, it just flows into him. Energy? That's...that's not normal, but nothing feels /wrong/ with him. For now, he just needs to check the bodies, confirm there's no more monsters, and then return to the church. The martial artist heads back to the storehouse, and then beyond. If he didn't eat them...could any of them still be alive? No, they couldn't be. But at the very least, they can be buried. Wandering Dog takes the step around the corner, confident in his movements. There's nothing to fear, even as his wounds are still healing. He'll be able to handle this, he feels. No reason to expect any different than a pile of bodies, right?
Carna	Wandering Dog rounds the corner and finds...! A heavily blood-stained patch of ground. But no bodies. No monsters. However, there are blood trails leading from here out into the fields, in the direction of deeper into the Four Caverns. In fact, on a more or less straight path directly for where the Cavern of Death lies. The blood trails appear to be all in a single converged line. Single-file. Unsettlingly, it appears the dead townsfolk walked away from here.
Wandering Dog	"You've gotta be..." Wandering Dog stares at the complete lack of corpses, and then tracks his vision across the blood trail. A cavern? Part of Wandering Dog considered going in now...but he could feel his injuries, and needed to be prepared either way. Probably have some of his goons with him. For now, the martial artist would return to Laryssa and tell her that the monster was dead, and what had happened to the bodies. He would return in about a week's time to further make sure nothing else would threaten them, once he had more supplies. He'd promised it, too. But, for now, Wandering Dog parted, leaving to prepare. There would likely be more monsters to kill.