Open Chronicles Dog treats

[Magnan Smithson]

The forest was always something calming to Magnan. Endless stretches of green, silent and yet loud at the same time, but most importantly... peaceful. Well, as peaceful as something can get when you're clad in a titanic suit of armour. Listening to the cracking and snapping of dried leaves and twigs beneath his greaves made the undead man wish he still had the capability to wince. I felt almost blasphemous, to be creating that much noise in a single step, and knowing he would need to take another. Yet he didn't stop, despite this. Silent and sure, the armour clad titan strode through the forest, tattered cape stirring up the leaves behind him and sending them gently drifting through the cool (or at least he assumed it was cool) air, spinning lazily before landing once more.

He hadn't been... alive, he supposed, for very long. Less than a day, given that he was raised at night and the sun could be seen sending rays of light through the canopy, impacting on the ancient steel of his armour and sending tiny little reflections dancing upon the bark of trees around him. Less than a day alive once more, and already he was so... different. He was strong. Far stronger than he should have been. Reaching over with a gauntleted hand, he presses his palm against the rough bark of an ancient oak. He could feel how... fragile the powerful tree was, when under his hands. How easily he could break it, tear it down. He didn't understand where this power had come from, either. Being undead never gave anyone else a boost to their body, as far as he knew. It was almost scary.

But what was worse was that he knew time had to have passed. Magnan was no stranger to necromancy, having seen it countless times before, and to be completely devoid of any flesh means he would have been in the ground for a long, long time. It... well it scared him, as much as he loathed to admit it. He wasn't in his world anymore. He knew less than a newborn baby. All he knew for sure was that humanity was probably still around, and it was that knowledge alone that allowed him to keep moving forward. He just needed to find something.

 

[Lillian Dog]

It was not far from Alliria that a being that was truly shortlived and counted its time on earth in a single digit approached. How oblivious was it to the grand scheme of things and how little its life mattered in the eternal wheel of Arethil. But such thoughts did not concern the simple-minded beast.
To it, Lillian, a white and black-ticked Allirian sheepdog; the only thing that truly mattered were the short goals in life, like when the next tasty squirrel will show up.

Sniff sniff. She'd uncover every corner and tree as she padded along the woodlands. This here is the neigbor's turf...but this tree is mine. Lillian promptly marked it at her's.

-pant pant pant, sniff sniff, pant-

 

[Magnan Smithson]

The giant armoured skeleton was torn from he deep introspective thoughts at the sound of... was that really...? Leaning to the side, his helmet peered around the side of the tree to see a dog in the middle of marking their territory, apparently. Stepping as quietly around the tree as he could, which was not at all, the undead man looked down at the black and white spotted dog that was so happily going about its business. Magnan didn't know whether it was male or female, but just the fact that he was witnessing actual *life* had him crouching down, armour creaking and scraping, until his knees touched the forest floor and he was within arm's reach of the animal. Silently, he held his armoured hand out towards the large dog, trying his best not to scare it away. He didn't know what he would do if the first sign of actual thinking life ran from him. Just the fact that it looked so healthy was enough to reassure him that good people were still out there, and most likely close by. A dog such as this did not get a coat as shiny as that by wandering alone through the forest, hunting. Someone had to be taking care of... her, now that he was closer he was able to tell, and that meant that hopefully this dog could lead him to where other people were. If not... well, he might at least gain a friend?

 

[Lillian Dog]

Lillian's attention span was short indeed.
The dog's face woupd soon divert to the armoured man, and she too approached him.
-Sniff sniff- she sniffed his hand.
Not fleshy not meaty not marrowy either.
-Sniff sniff- she took another whiff.
Her tail waggled as she proceeded to intake any scent that came from the armour's many joints and openings.

 

[Magnan Smithson]

Magnan's head tilts as he watches the dog sniff at his hand curiously, an ethereal, rattly chuckle emanating from within the confines of his helmet as he slowly brings a hand up to ruffle the dog's head. It was nice to know that he wasn't too scary so as to scare off the dog, and with that he hoped the animal might lead him back to civilisation. Well... eventually. He had to admit he held a small soft spot for animals, and large dogs especially. They were useful, loyal, and had saved him more than once while he... while he lived. So with that in mind... his ethereal blue orbs shifted slightly in their sockets as he looked around, free hand moving through and disturbing the leaves upon the ground until he came across what he was looking for. Pulling the large stick out of where it had been hidden by the foliage, he holds it up in front of the dog to get her attention,, waggling it from side to side before tossing it as lightly as he could manage, the stick disappearing into the trees beyond.

 

[Slime]

Vibrations...The Slime felt them, all of them. Thought the ground, through the air, even through the strange network of...energy that bound all life together. The Slime didn't care though, all the Slime cared about as a stick that was currently lodged in it.

The stick wasn't there a moment ago, but it was now. It was an odd feeling, one moment Slime was resting, spreading its way throughout the forest floor, catching and devouring the odd squirrel, disassembling the occasional human child that strayed off the tracks. But this stick, this stick was thrown at it. Someone threw a stick at Slime, and that someone was nearby, crunching through the forest like an ogre at a dinner party.

The Slime quivered and began reeling itself back in, it had spread its tendrils hundreds and hundreds of metres in every direction but as it dragged its mass back into itself, its form began to grow. Eventually, it held the stick aloft, an animal was nearby, it was coming closer. It waved the stick lazily, left and right...and waited.

 

[Lillian Dog]

The gleeful dog quickly went into a crouch, hopping shallowly as the stick was waved and letting out a mightly -bork- before darting off behind the seemingly flying stick as if it went for her life!

But alas nothing was ever truly easy in the life of dog.

Into the bush she lept and into the bush she disapeared. Only to find the one whom posessed the stick.
Big oozy slime.
It has a stick.
My stick.
But stick is wawy.
She bounced around the ooze.

 

[Slime]

Ooze wobbled in anticipation. Dogs were fun, oozy was bored. Dogs made lots of vibrations in the ground and the air. The ooze was sated for now, it had eaten a human child not fifteen minutes ago and was more interested in interaction. It reached out with a blobby, oozy tendril, hoping to pat the dog.

It threw the stick back the way it came.

 

[Magnan Smithson]

Magnan's head watched as the stick came sailing back out of the undergrowth, impacted with a nearby tree and stuck out of the ground just in front of him. That wasn't normal. Lifting his head to face the direction that the stick had some flying out from, the armoured undead stood up with the creak and groan of metal, hefting his shield and sword into place before following after where he had last seen the dog go rocketing off after. His footsteps shuddered the earth with their weight, even as he ducked past and through foliage, following the dog's manic path, to come face to face with something he had never seen before. It was some sort of... ooze, he supposed. Just sitting there, wobbling as it extended a tendril of its body towards the dog. However, the open and screaming skull that served as its face was slightly off putting, and magnan found himself gripping his shield tighter. An ethereal whistle came from him, hoping to attract the dog's attention. This thing seemed *dangerous*, and he wasn't even sure how he was supposed to fight something made of sludge.

 

[Lillian Dog]

Lillian sniffed and sniffed, so many scents. The slime smelled of everything dog knew and knew not. Interesting, almost wanting to roll into the oozy mass.

if it were not for -waggle waggle- play thing.

As swiftly as the stick was tossed, dog darted right behind it, taking no note of the whistling.

The stick will finally be her's.

 

[Slime]

A being approached...its vibrations could be felt, heavy footfalls on the soft ground. The slime quivered as it approached, and gathered more of itself into a larger mass, attempting to pile itself on top of itself to stand as tall as the being. It was covered in armour...but there was a suspicious lack of...body, it just seemed like an empty suit of armour walking around. The slime was confused, it must know more...In its attempts to match the empty-but-still-walking suit of armour, it flopped over with an uncomfortable squelch. Extending its oozy mass out towards the being, it began to drag itself towards its feet, tendrils poking and probing, trying to find a way inside.

 

[Magnan Smithson]

As the ooze flopped over from where it had been rising up, magnan felt the urge to chuckle. That urge quickly died when the ooze began to try and reach towards him, however, and he found himself trying to step back, not letting the ooze touch his armour. It seemed like it could eat away at things, and the lich didn't want to test whether or not whatever magic that was keeping him active was strong enough to resist the sentient ooze. At least the dog had run off back to somewhere safe, he supposed. Less to worry about. Tilting his head silently, he watched the ooze, tense but not in a stance.

 

[Lillian Dog]

Magnan's relief was likely shortlived, for dog ran right back to the two, tail wobblin all the same.

She dropped the stick.
-Boof Boof!!-

 

[Slime]

If the slime had lips it would have licked them. Hardly worth fishing some spare human parts out of its depths to perform such a basic sign of...anticipation. THe dog had returned, and the slime was beginning to crave more nutrients....It reached out with a tendril and picked up the stick again, waving it lazily...while another tendril extended out of its back and blobbed across the ground, approaching the dogs wagging tail.