Inside The Kingdom.

John was expecting his mother or Urga to be waiting for him when he returned. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he had come back to the kingdom, and even longer for the people in it. He had prepared himself for the barrage of screaming and questioning that his mother was sure to give him after his long absence, but there wasn't any. When John finally reappeared in the kingdom, the only people waiting for him were other warriors.

Large, burly, green men of the tribe rushed John when he came back and seized him by his arms. At first it was only one or two. They picked him up while he was still trying to figure out what was going on and began dragging him away from his tent. He screamed and yelled, demanding to know what was going on while they carried him off, but they were silent. Along the way, a number of people gathered to watch as John was dragged through the streets. He saw a lot of faces, most of them he didn't recognize, but there were a few he did. He saw Lagash, his ****'s sister, standing at the front of a crowd and refusing to let anyone else stand in front of her because that was her place in line. If anyone else tried to move in front of her then, they had to fight her for the right. He saw Mub, who stood grimly at the end of another one of the lines and was determined to make sure he was also in front of everyone else. He even saw Dullong and the elders at the end of the path where the leaders of the tribe poked at a large viridian-hued flame in the center of the village with an iron stick. They had been tending to the flame for a while since the iron poker they pulled out when John got close revealed a white hot brand on the other end. It almost hummed in the air as they dragged him closer, like exposing such heat to the midday air was enough to send the metal vibrating.

John swallowed and used Observe.

Brand of the Deceiver
This brand has been styled after the one it was named for. A shoddy, grotesque image of something that barely resembles a serpent has been crafted onto one end of this brand. Unlike the rest of the brands and markings worn by the tribe who made this brand, this particular item was made to give its victim an ugly, misshapen scar. This brand is not a mark of pride for the Orcish people but a mark of dishonor.
-5% to the unit's lowest stat.

"Fuck that!" John snapped when he had finished reading the pop-up and kicked hard against the ground. The Orcs dragging him to the center of the village came to a complete stop as John ripped his arms out of their grip. With an easy pivot, he turned and smacked his fist into the nose of one of his captor's and watched as he fell back with a horrible crunching sound. The noise almost echoed out across the grim silence of the tribe before a few more Orcs stepped in to try and help restrain him.

John went into a flurry of blows. His fists swung wildly through the air as they tried to grab onto him, but with his improved strength, he started putting people on the ground without even using his abilities. One Orc tried to grab him from behind, crushing him tightly in a massive bear hug while another went for his legs, but John simply kicked off one of them and then pummeled his way free from the other. He was almost surrounded when Mub finally spoke up.

"You have to!" he snapped just as John used his Infused Strike and his fist began to glow, forcing the warriors around him to hesitate. The gamer turned to look at the Orc as he stepped up through the rest of the warriors and pointed at the Brand. "It is your responsibility," he said and moved close to John, and then at the last moment he added something else in a small whisper. "Do it or the elders will punish you in another way. We do not allow magic here." he spoke softly and then glanced around to see if anyone else had heard them. If they had, no one seemed to care that he tried to instruct John out of something possibly far worse. Most of them seemed to be trying to nurse the new wounds they had. One Orc held his nose as it bled freely down his chin. Another gingerly touched his side and winced when his brushing fingers actually moved some of his ribs, but none of them seemed ready to back down. If anything, they looked even more angry, but they let Mub try to talk to him.

He looked to the brand again and saw the same shape of the ugly serpent on it in a scar on Dullong's chest as he, too, moved in to try and help. Dullong had already taken the brand once apparently, and John blinked when he saw it. If he accepted the brand, then it was going to take from his wisdom stat, and that was already quite low... but Dullong had managed to do it, and if he wanted to avoid something possibly far worse, then he had to do it too. He tried to **** his breathing to settle and then watched as one of the Orcs took another hesitant step towards John, and he glared at the man.

"Fine," he grumbled, and the Orcs moved to go and grab him again. John still didn't let them do that. When they went to take him, John stepped past them, towards the brand, and moved out of their reach. He walked right up to the elder who held the iron poker aloft, and then he snatched the brand from his hands.

-10 HP

For every second that he held the brand, he could feel it burning into his hands. The elder who had been holding it had put gloves on at least. John didn't. As quick as he could, John turned the white-hot metal to his chest... and then nearly threw up as the thought of what he was about to do hit him. He stopped himself from puking, barely, by using his Gamer's Mind again, but it couldn't permanently settle the rumbling in his stomach. He swallowed and then pressed it high on one side of his chest.

-50 HP

His scream echoed throughout the camp, but everyone else was still silent. They watched with wide, unblinking eyes as John put the brand to himself and then let it drop to the ground with a heavy, sizzling thunk. The people stayed silent, even as John doubled over... forcing his powers to try and keep himself from hurling, but even that didn't help... and then Mub came over and helped him to stand again. The mark on his chest remained red and raw, burned deeper into his skin than any other wound had been since he had first received his powers. It made John sick again just to look at it. He must have stood there with everyone watching him for well over a minute, the moment felt like it would never end. The pain was blinding him...

... and then it was fading again, as his powers finally seemed to restart.

He choked in fresh air, though even that first breath was thick with the smell of what had just happened, and Mub gave him a short, strong nod. A nod that many other members of the tribe reciprocated, even Lagash.

+50 Relationship Points to all tribe members!

The pop-up remained for only a second before John dismissed it again, and Mub began to lead him back to his tent. On the way back, the only person who didn't seem to nod at John was Dullong. The Green Alpha still glared at him like John had somehow done the wrong thing.

John almost groaned when Mub finally took him back to the smithy shop that the gamer had given him. A part of him didn't like the fact that the Orc didn't take John back to his own tent immediately. Instead, he brought John to his personal encampment and gave him a small bottle of ointment to rub over the branding scar while he waited for it to heal.

Unfortunately, the brand didn't heal like his other wounds would have. When John finally finished rubbing in the ointment Mub gave him and had meditated long enough to let his wounds heal, he was left with a small, ridged, and tender crescent sitting on one side of his chest. If he looked hard enough, John could make out something that looked like it might have been a snake head at the top of the shape, but it was almost impossible for him to identify it. The scar stayed with him, like a permanent reminder of the fact that it was subtracting from one of his stats. He stared at it... until finally Mub dropped into a seat opposite of John and growled in a low tone.

"Drink," he said with a deep, curt rumble, and slammed a pair of large mugs down onto the closest table. A nearby **** carried an already opened bottle of wine after them, but instead of waiting for the servant to pour it for them, Mub merely took it from the **** and then waved him away. John cocked a skeptical eyebrow at the cup after what had just happened, but Mub was fairly insistent about what he expected John to do. "This isn't Orcish ale, don't worry. It's that sweet crap they make up in Bulgebottom. Wine," he stuck his tongue out on the last word, mocking it before he downed a whole cup on his own. A deep, watery, red liquid poured down his chin as he chugged from the mug, and with a bit of ****, John lifted his own drink to his lips.

Strangely enough, it was sweet... and tart. When it touched his tongue, it overpowered him with its intensity. He swallowed, and before he had even finished drinking, he could almost feel his next wine-laden breath in his nose before he finally lowered the cup again. It was so fruity and sweet that his eyes began to water, and his jaw clenched at the way the powerful taste rested on his tongue. In a way, it was like taking a bite out of a sour or, more accurately, a bittersweet fruit, like a handful of icy raspberries. Only when that first shock of flavor would normally disappear after he had **** it down, it stayed with him this time. It locked him in that moment where he waited for the sweetness to pass and then sent him coughing as it pushed into the rest of his system.

Mub roared in laughter as John choked on something that he labeled as 'just weak wine' and then smacked him a few times on the back while the Gamer tried to catch his breath again. The Orc nodded at him as John came down from his coughing fit... and then he refilled his drink for him.

"I have to admit... I've never seen anyone do that before," Mub grunted and pointed to the new scar on John's chest for clarification. "At least, not to themselves." With a little huff, the Orc scratched at one of his ears... and then he went silent. He stared at John every now and then as they slowly nursed their cups and the gamer adjusted to the sharp flavor of his wine, but he didn't say anything. After a while, it was John who took the initiative to ask him something.

"H-have..." the words died in his throat for just a moment, and he nearly couldn't bring himself to say them, but it wasn't because of the wine. "Have you ever killed anyone?" Strangely, he couldn't bring himself to look at the Orc as he spoke. Mub looked at him though and scratched at the slight scruff along his jawline. There was a beat of silence where the older warrior seemed to look right through John, and then he nodded, vigorously enough for the Gamer to see.

Unfortunately, there was a hint of pride in his confirmation, something that John disconnected from almost immediately. Images of Michel's face flashed through his mind, both of him in his last moments and back when he was trying to help teach John to fight in the boxing ring. The thought of his giant form smiling down at him sent goosebumps down John's spine, like someone had traced a frozen finger down his back. On the edge of Mub's new building, Lagash stepped into view and moved to join them.

"How about you? Have you been blooded then, pink-skin?" Lagash cocked an eyebrow at him as she approached and then swiped Mub's cup away from him. The two glared at each other as if they were going to fight for a moment before the girl smelled the sweet liquor inside and happily gave it back to him in exchange for something thicker. John had to pause at Lagash's question. He wasn't sure what she meant at first when she said 'blooded', but eventually, he caught on.

She was asking if he had killed anyone. John's nod was not as vigorous.

"He left me ****," John muttered, though he may as well have just been talking to himself. It felt like he was. "I didn't want t-" he let the sentence end there. He didn't want to finish saying it. "I don't want to have to do that again, but-" Again, he couldn't finish it. "Everywhere I look, it's like the world is telling me I have to fight something to the **** again. I-I have to-" he was stammering by that point, and he could feel his eyes starting to burn as he squeezed the mug tighter. He wanted to blame the way his eyes started to water on how strong the wine was, but it wasn't even a good lie. It was-

"Don't be a child," Lagash grunted as a **** finally brought her a new mug. It steamed as she took it. "You are blooded now," she said, and then Mub chimed in.

"Proven." He nodded proudly and in agreement. The Orcish man poked at John's shoulder, where his armor should have been. His calloused finger actually hurt when it touched the recently marred flesh, even though John had already healed back up to full.

"He is not proven..." Lagash growled and set her cup to the side. "He's human."

"A child?! Seriously?!" John finally snapped back at the two of them. His eyes widened as he stared at the two of them bicker. They expected him to be proud of the fact that he had killed someone. "He was my friend! It's not childish to dislike killing your own friends! It's-"

Mub slapped him. His hand clapped across the side of John's face and sent the Gamer sprawling from his chair. His cup flew from his hand, spattering red liquid across the ground. The nearby slaves in the camp gasped and began to mutter in hushed tones as John rolled to a quick stop in the dirt.

-11 HP

"Wha-" John started before Mub interrupted him.

"If you could do it again... what would change?" he asked, and John stared up at him. Mub's hard, lone eye stared back at the Gamer as he struggled to his feet again. When John opened his mouth to yell at him, Mub raised his hand again. "Would you still kill him?" he asked, and John froze.

He thought about it for a moment. As much as he wanted the fight to have ended differently, Michel wouldn't have let it. He had refused to turn away from that moment, and in the end, only one of them could have walked away from that battle. He really had had **** in the matter.

"Would anything change?" Mub asked again, and this time John shook his head. "There," the Orc nodded, satisfied, but it still didn't help John. The Orc's attempt at 'reassuring' him had done nothing, even if John had understood the points he had been trying to make. Michel was still dead, and John still hated it.

"You haven't helped," he almost snarled back at the Orc, his voice dripping with poison. "I still don't like it and regret what happened. You haven't reassured me of anyt-"

"Don't," Mub grunted and downed another cup. "He is not yours to mourn, not when you swing the sword. You fought, you won. Call it a good **** and praise him... but do not reduce him to a mere loss."

"Did he fight back?" Lagash asked after lifting her head up from her cup. Again, John nodded. "Then he fought bravely. It is done."

"Hmmph..." Mub agreed and went to fill John's spilled cup again. "You are proven now, Orcish; don't die like a fool still stuck in his head."

"He is not proven!" Lagash growled again, and something about what Mub said made John pause. He considered him to be Orcish now, and because of that one statement, John cast Observe on him just based on a hunch.

Mub Chuk
Level 7 Barbarian
<Mub>
164/164 HP
RP: +81
Effects: Pack Mentality, Pack Leader, Heart Of The Beast, Stubborn.

His relationship score was incredibly high into the positive with Mub now, and because of that, John got an idea to ask him about something else.

"Do you know where another town is?" his brow lifted slightly as he spoke directly to Mub, and nearby, Lagash went silent as she strained to listen in. The Alpha stared at him for a moment and then nodded. He told him about a number of different towns. Most were broken and gone, decayed and reduced to dust from magic and time, but there were a few still standing. Some were even prosperous. All of them were to the north though. The closest town was another abandoned place, devoid of any kind of creature except for the Hallowed. It was a little village called Eldham. It was the closest town to a mountainous region that Mub simply referred to as 'The Burning Pass', and north of that was supposed to be a variety of other places. He even mentioned Bulgebottom again, a veritable kingdom located northwest of the Burning Pass. What little John learned about Bulgebottom was that it was home to a mixture of mostly dwarves and gnomes. The other races had other homes, but the populations did vary on occasion.

"Eldham," John tested the name of the new village like it was another drink to try on his tongue. Mub and Lagash stared at him for a long moment, waiting for what they already knew he was going to say, and Mub grinned when he actually heard it. "I'm going to take that town, Mub," it was the next part that astonished the large, misshapen, green man. "... and I want you to come with me.

"Join my pack."