Struggling for hope.

It didn't take very long for John to realize just how right Michel was about Grace. She didn't even glance at John when he walked through the door. She just continued working and training with her clients in a familiar set of modest, simple clothing. She was still hiding her bruises.

John didn't get much work done, either. With his focus on the following day, he didn't try very hard to get Grace to talk to him. Instead, he trained... or rather, he tried to. For the rest of the day, John tried everything he could imagine. He tried lifting weights, working the punching bag, sparring with other people in the gym, running... The list just went on and on, and still, everything he did went unrewarded.

After a whole day of working out, he was still the same level with all of the exact same stats and spells. Hell, he even tried meditating on his powers in the vain hope that he might get something new to help him... but nothing worked. He wasn't even able to level Infused Strike after a whole work day. When the end of the day finally came around, and John finally felt like he was ready to quit, he stopped for a moment as Grace walked by him to go home. He stopped her, silently, by laying a single hand over one of her shoulders as she tried to brush by him.

She didn't say anything at first, but he could still see the way her whole body shifted to lean away from him when he touched her. She exhaled slowly, clearly trying to keep her breathing even, and stared straight ahead as John stepped up behind her.

"I-I'm sorry..." John said and watched as her shoulder tensed slightly beneath his hand before it relaxed again. She still didn't look at him. "You're right. After the other day when I saw you and what he did, I was angry. I knew it wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't just stand by and watch while that scumbag did something like that! He should be locked up! He-"

"What about you?!" Grace whirled around and turned on him, her eyes burning with anger as she interrupted him. "You beat on another person without a second thought! You hit him like it was your right to do so! You didn't wait, or call the cops! You just attacked each other like- like a pair of animals!" There was a split-second pause as she huffed once and then continued talking. "You can't judge someone else like that and then act in the same way! You're just as bad he is!"

John visibly flinched at her last sentence. She wasn't yelling or screaming loudly by anyone's standards, she was talking, but by the time she finished, the whole gym was quiet. Her expression lightened slightly as the two of them stood there in the midst of all that attention, and she saw the expression on his face. His whole being felt like it withered away from her in the moment, and almost instinctively, John stepped away from her and desperately pushed at his Gamer's Mind once again. A part of him could feel the effect struggling for a moment, fighting to try and lessen the impact of what she just said, before finally, it at least started to dampen the familiar, cold, twisting feeling in his stomach. He swallowed hard, ignoring the sudden tightness in his chest, and stared at Grace as she blinked at him once... and then just walked away.

Nobody else talked as Grace hurried out of the gym again, though Michel did brush by John to run after her, his brow tightly creased and furrowed as John stood there. There was no reason to talk, John knew that, the damage was already said and done.

He just had to live with the statement she made.

Thankfully, John didn't run across Cassandra or Moira on his way back home. He wasn't sure if they were watching him still or not, but he knew to be careful. As soon as he felt like he was far away enough from the gym so that nobody see him, he activated the Thrall Boots’ Shade ability for the first time.

Strangely enough, he somehow felt the magic taking place. Whatever the spell was, it happened fast. The shadows around John reached out and latched onto him, descending from every direction. The darkness clung to him as he walked, covering his skin first in a horrible grey color... and then eventually turning it completely black. His vision didn't disappear, even as he felt the night itself begin to wind and wrap around his head like a tight sheet of cloth. He just visually changed... like he was wearing an illusion.

It didn't take very long for John to get confident in the idea that he lost anyone who had been trailing him. In the local streetlight, he was visible, if he stayed under it for very long. The light exposed him in a way. It didn't lift the shadows clinging to him, but it did reveal that there was a blackened figure standing there with thin wisps of pure blackness trailing off of him like smoke. In the dark alleyways, however, John disappeared. He walked through the shadows like he was a part of them and not even the nearby cats seemed able to see him...

... At least for a minute, then the spell wore off, and all of the running he did paid off as he turned down the last few streets to his home. With his Shade ability, he skipped past the building he had seen Cassandra at when he had walked home the first time after work, but it didn't last for much longer after that.

It just got him home and that was what mattere-

-54 HP

"There you are!" The words were accompanied by the feeling of a giant hammer slamming into the front of John's gut before he was suddenly thrown, once more, away from the weapon's sudden impact. A flash of red hair and golden light flicked through John's vision as he hit the ground and bounced, skidding and rolling off the dirt to a slow stop nearly fifteen feet away from Moira. "What happened, John?" Her footsteps fell with a heavy, metallic clank as she simply walked all the way over to him. She didn't even need to run. "Did you stumble across something in the Flame's book and decided that Necromancy was suddenly the answer to all of your problems?"

He didn't answer her. He couldn't answer her; the first hit had knocked almost all air out of his lungs and left him literally unable to talk. Unfortunately, that didn't stop her from trying to demand some answers.

"Is the Flame dabbling in Necromancy?" A large, armored fist closed around John's throat, right out on his front lawn as Moira leaned down over him. Her lips curled into a wicked scowl as she squeezed her fingers in slightly, and then she just picked him up, holding him a good foot off the ground like he weighed nothing to her. He gasped and choked as she held him up in the air until his face turned blue, and then finally, her hand unclenched enough for him to breath again. "Tell me!"

"I'm sorry!" he cried out almost instantly, and something softened briefly on Moira's face. Whatever guilt or regret she felt for him disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I-" he choked again and clawed desperately at her arm for a moment, but she didn't budge. "I thought she knew about my powers! I-I didn't know what the book was!" he said, and Moira's eyes flashed for a moment.

"You had magic... before you found the book?" she cocked an eyebrow at John, and he nodded against her hand as much as he could. "Impossible. I would have noticed!"

"I w-" he gagged. He could feel his face and lungs starting to burn with the lack of air. "I woke up with them!" he said and watched as her eyes widened dramatically. Her brow narrowed and dipped as John just hung there... and then she spoke again.

"Then how did you learn to use Necromancy?" Again, he choked. After a couple of seconds when he didn't answer, she just let him drop. John fell to the ground with a hard 'thump' as she slowly gripped her hammer with both hands and demanded an answer... but it took some time for John to recover.

"I-" he rubbed his throat and coughed again. The grass on his front lawn felt heavenly compared to the hard, metal he just had wrapped around his neck. "I didn't."

"Liar." Her hammer began to glow.

"It was zombies!" he practically screamed it out at Moira when she hefted her weapon back up into the air. Despite how open they were, she didn't tell him to quiet down, even after she looked around to make sure that no one had heard them. "I was in a barrier, and I found them, okay?!" She didn't seem pleased with his answer. "I killed them, and then I took their stuff! I didn't know that they were radioactive or whatever, but I didn't use Necromancy!" Her whole attitude changed when he said that. Her body shifted and backed away from him, like his corruption might reach her, but she didn't look worried. If anything, she just seemed confused like he had said something wrong.

"You... you took their stuff?" she was almost silent as she repeated that one part back to him. "W-what stuff?" It was John's turn to look at her confused. Had she never been in a barrier? Her gaze hardened for a moment as she came to reach some kind of realization, and then her hammer began to glow even brighter. "Just how new to the Abyss are you?" John didn't answer. He watched as she hefted her hammer up after a couple seconds, and he got his spell ready.

"You need to come with m-" she said and watched as his hand suddenly pointed up to the sky. She all but growled at John as he cowered back away from her as far as he could get... and then disappeared back to his kingdom before she could grab him by the throat again. He just vanished into thin air right in front of her, and she was left standing alone in the street...

She tried, but she couldn't chase after him. Actually... she couldn't even find the telltale signs of an active barrier being made anywhere in the area. As far as she could tell, John truly was just gone.

"Urga, please! You have to stop!" The first voice John heard when he reappeared in the kingdom was his own mother's. Her voice was distant and slightly muffled by the tent put up around John, but since John was the only one even remotely near the tent, it was definitely her. "Urga!" Surprisingly, John couldn't even make out the sound of other Orcs crowding around his tent. Somehow, he was the only one there even with a helpless blind Orc **** under his command.

"Leave me alone, whore." It wasn't that hard to identify Urga's voice either... especially after he went out looking for them.

"I can't understand you when you're speaking that language, baby. Please, talk to me!" His mother was actually begging, down on her knees in front of the green ****, when John finally found them.

Baby? His mother adapted to the idea of caring for the Orc quickly. John blinked and watched Urga slowly step and then stumble into the broken remnants of a nearby wooden table as she tried to avoid his mother. The Orc tripped over her own short bow, John realized with a hard gulp. Two large, shattered pieces of the weapon sat in a pile of broken shafts and splinters on the ground as Urga narrowly avoided stepping onto some of her broken arrows. Brenda, for her part, crawled after the other woman. Neither one of them wore any form of decent clothing. At the most, Urga still had her loincloth draped over the front of her crotch, and his mother had tied off her robe around her waist to try and mimic the style. Brenda's feet were also wrapped and covered as she followed after Urga, her heels already long forgotten. To be fair, he couldn't imagine her walking around in the forest with them for very long.

"That's the point, whore. I don't want you to understand me." John blinked as Urga spoke. He could hear the slight rumbling in her voice, but it was almost inaudible to him. That rumbling was the slightest, and only, difference he could find that actually told him she was speaking a different language. She was speaking Orcish... and she was the only one. After looking around, John realized that they were the only three people in the area. All of the tents, tables, and packs had been picked up and moved. The three of them were the only ones left. It didn't take him very long to figure out where the tribe went; after looking around for nearby footprints, he actually caught sight of the tribe stomping their way out west in the same direction of the town that John had cleared only the previous night. They weren't very far, but if they didn't catch up soon, John wouldn't have been surprised if they disappeared out of sight.

A part of him idly wondered if they might even despawn if they got too far away.

"We can't go anywhere with your eyes like this! We have to sta-" His mother paused as she finally noticed John walking up to them. Her expression brightened with a blatant display of hope, and he watched as his mother finally rushed to her feet. "John, thank god! Tell Urga that we can't move on. We have to stay here and wait for her to heal. If we try to move to a town with all of these hallowed in it, then she could get hurt and-"

"Tribe is moving." Urga grunted simply and finally scooped up a familiar wooden bowl from the wrecked wooden table. "Strong move or weak die." They both blinked at Urga.

"What does that even mean?!" his mother cried out as Urga stumbled over to them, tripped into John, and then quickly moved to walk back to their tent. "John, stop her! She even said that the village isn't safe!"

"Wasn't safe..." John corrected her, but he relented. "Urga, stop." The collar flashed as soon as he uttered the command. She took a few more steps as it glowed brighter and brighter with its deep purple light and then she finally came to stand in place. Her breathing quickened as John and his mother caught up with her, and after tearing his gaze away from her heaving emerald breasts, he managed to make her face him.

"Please... Master. We must go." Her voice was rumbling again. She was speaking Orcish.

"Why?" Surprisingly, his voice rumbled too.

"If we can't stay with tribe... then we are weak." She didn't even let John try to reassure her otherwise. "Weak cannot stay in tribe! Please!" Her voice pitched on the last word, and as John opened his mouth to argue with her... he noticed a slight amount of water gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Please..." she mouthed the word again.

"...Hurry up. We have to catch up, then." he said, and his mother almost screamed at him. It took a couple of moments to explain it to her as Urga quickly took down the tent, but eventually even Brenda caught on. Gathering their supplies didn't take very long. Urga and Brenda both tried to help by carrying their own individual share of the few supplies they had, but it wasn't necessary. John managed to fit almost everything into his inventory, even the empty chest of belongings and the pelts for her furry hide bed.

They chased and followed after the tribe as quickly as they could manage, struggling to catch up. It wasn't easy. Both Brenda and John tried to help Urga along as they ran after the other Orcs, but she refused any assistance. She growled and yelled at them when they tried, because of the possibility that some of her kind might have been watching them, and when they backed away, Urga lagged behind. She was stubborn to a fault and actually ran into trees in the surrounding area on multiple occasions. She didn't even let John craft a makeshift walking stick for her.

Urga had to find her own way.

Eventually, however, when the tribe was almost out of sight, John thought of something else. He didn't order her to let them help, especially after she begged him not to, but he did try guiding her. She wouldn't let him touch her or tell her where to walk... but he could walk in front of her. He even found that if he stepped on loud sticks or clumps of leaves, she would find the path to follow him with, and they began to catch up again.

Unfortunately, Brenda was also predictably stubborn, which meant that Urga had to shove her away from her every time the Orc stumbled or tripped.

When they finally reached the tribe, the whole clan was only a few hundred yards away from the village that John had cleared out. The people in the tribe let out a few mumbles and exclamations when they rejoined the rest of them or when they saw the lack of enemies in town, but they didn't kick them out. Urga even let out a small sigh of relief when he told her that they had reached the group before they set up camp again.

"Pathetic." A deep, low rumble echoed out across the whole tribe as they finally came to stop in the center of town. He wasn't sure of the man's name who said it, but John had already met the Orc who spoke once before. It was the same Orc who had given John the option of putting a Collar on Urga instead of killing her. He was still just as huge as the first time that John had seen him, looming a whole foot above the three of them, but he didn't know his name. A part of John might have considered using Observe if he hadn't gotten so angry when he realized what the Orc was talking about.

He was calling Urga pathetic.

"If you don't like it..." He could feel his chest already burning, his teeth grinding together as he stared back up at the Orc. The two of them glared at one another, even as Brenda and Urga tugged on his shirt to pull him away, but John didn't move. "...then you can go fuck off out of my town." The orc growled at that.

"You have to earn something to claim it, pigsk-"

"You saw the skulls Urga brought back. I killed the hallowed! I claim it." John growled right back. "This town is mine." He could feel that strange, angry, possessive feeling returning to him, but he didn't push it away this time. He embraced it, let it fuel him instead of ignoring it so he could turn away. "Just like every other hallowed village I'm going to find after this one. Just like the one I'm going to go find as soon as my tent is set up."

"No, you will not." It wasn't the man who spoke this time. It was Lagash. The sister of John's Orcish **** strolled up to them with a strange look on her face... but her gaze wasn't directed at John as she spoke. She was looking at Urga with a fair amount of surprise. "You and yours are to stay with the tribe, pigskin. You will not run off again.

"The elders call for you."

"What does that mean?" It wasn't easy for John to get angry at that. He was mostly just confused, but Urga was astonishingly quick to explain it to him. The 'elders' apparently didn't get involved with tribal affairs all that often. They were in place in case of a predicament like the one that John was in, but they rarely actually did anything outside of their own packs. The only time they really got involved was when one member of the tribe was cowardly, which didn't happen all that often. If somebody needed to **** a challenge upon someone who refused to accept it by cowardly means, then the elders would review and decree whether or not the challenge went through anyways. John, apparently, refused the challenge that had been set before him the other day when he disappeared from the rest of the tribe.

Naturally, the elders almost never let someone slip from a challenge. The orcs saw no excuse for what they perceived as cowardice.

Someone was challenging the legitimacy of his place in the tribe whether he liked it or not.