As he shot the last carver between the eyes, Rashaban reveled in his victory. This was too easy. These things were nothing to him and his unliving minions. He had indeed gotten up early, and set out even before the Amazon. He was quickly picking up more and more skill, and he soon noticed something. The demons always had a set pattern that they always followed; they could not learn new defenses or attacks. As soon as he had fought one type of demon a few times, he had them figured out, and could almost know their moves in advance. 'Simple,' he told himself. As he haughtily strode along, he noticed something off in the distance, three things standing together. Completely unafraid, he went to investigate.
When he arrived, he stopped dead in his tracks, his former hubris gone. He found three stakes jammed into the ground, and upon each was thrust a rogue, a dying grimace on her face, her earthly beauty gone. He had seen death before, many times, but...this, this was not an honorable death. The demons who had slain these rogues had stuck them up here, in the order they had been slain, to rot in the sun as a warning to others. Such cruelty was an unthinkable concept, and only then did he truly understand what he was dealing with. Even his encounter with Blood Raven, clouded by hubris and the rush of battle, had not stamped the concept on his mind so vividly. These were not rogue creatures, isolated beings possessed by evil spirits. These were demons, vile creatures that should never walk the earth, and they worked in cruel ways and bore a horrendous mindset. He had known what they were, but now he truly understood the scope of what he was fighting. Numbly, he searched the bodies after giving them a quick ritual, and all he could find was a quiver of arrows on each. A scowl on his face, he slew a few more and went immediately back to town. He gave the arrows to Kayasha, who accepted them with a grimace, needing no explanation. It was not the last of such markings he was to see.
After that, he felt a bit…directionless for a few days. He knew that he should go on more raids farther towards the Monastery, as Kara was doing, but for some reason, his head would go fuzzy whenever he stepped outside the gates. 'Perhaps my fight with Blood Raven was more draining than I realized, and I shouldn't have been out so soon' he reasoned. With that, he retired to his tent to study some tomes, and took to his bed early.
A few days later, he woke up and decided that, even though he didn't feel quite right, that he needed to go out on a raid, perhaps as far as the Forgotten Tower. He had been lounging around the camp lately, and he felt that he needed to do something, even if his head was a little woozy. A quick fight and the sight of his slain opponents would clear it right up. He had kept the Rogue that Kayasha had assigned him as a reward for killing Blood Raven, her name was Annor, he thought that he might be beginning to grow fond of her. She had been on quite a few raids herself, and seemed to be growing stronger as he had. He cleared his head of such thoughts and stepped onto the waystone with her, determined to knock off the rust.
They were immediately beset by foes, and it became clear to him that his idle time and his fuzzy head were a serious setback. He could not recall half of his tactics, and his shots with the crossbow were sloppy. Annor was apparently not suffering from anything, but in his foolishness, Rashaban let the fight get out of hand. Before he could reverse his tactics, or even get back to the waypoint, Annor had been slain. Cursing himself, he managed to escape, with barely his life.
Back at camp, he first went to Kayasha, to apologize for his idiocy and accept any punishment she might bestow for killing her comrade out of negligence. But, she and the others seemed entirely unconcerned; they had seen too many die to be moved by the death of just one more. Only the outsiders; Kara, Gheed, Charsi and Warriv looked away with an angry glare in their eyes when he walked by without her, anger for the demons more than for him, but anger nonetheless. Why had her death affected them so? He did not bat an eye at killing the demons, of course, and his training had prepared him for death, but this… he had never had a comrade die before. He vowed that he would never take another comrade unless the need was dire, and even then, he would take special care to protect them. Rashaban had never talked to Annor much, but he had been about to start. And now, she was gone. All the Rogues knew that if they left the camp, then one day they would not come back. Rashaban shook his head. He would go back. They would pay. They would all pay. Not just for Annor's death. As cold a thought as it was, he knew he could get over that. But, for dragging the whole world into this mess… He unconsciously glanced at Kara, across the camp, but he was so immersed in his own thoughts of vengeance that he did not notice it himself. "They'll pay." he muttered to himself, as he stepped back on the waystone. His head was a little bit clearer now, and his strength was coming back. He knew that it would be wise to call it a day early, but he had to get back out there and exact revenge. He just had to.
Later than night, he gated back onto the camp's waystone, covered in the blood of his enemies. Something had driven him onwards, far past the horde he had slain in vengeance for Annor. Eventually, he had run into a few areas Kara had cleared, and that had helped his progress quite a bit, as he stepped over to the fire, Debi saw him, and was a bit shocked to see he was smiling.
He was smiling for many reasons. First, his magical powers were on the rise, and he didn't need to gulp a potion every five minutes, not to mention he was sure he could gain new spells. Secondly, he had exacted his vengeance many times over, having slain more demons than he cared to count. But, he was also smiling because he had made it to his goal that day. He had made it to the Monastery.