Apologies for waiting so long to continue the serialization! I usually transcribe if I have the time in the evenings. Just can't seem to find the time lately.
Anyhow, here't the 20th serial!
***
At first, these strange words did not register with the Rogue. He thought Rew spoke figuratively. Demons.
And yet, after a moment's pause, Rew's clear conviction stirred the Rogue. Tauos and Brol did not speak up to elaborate what Rew had meant.
Demons. It was as simple as that.
But then the Rogue's natural skepticism overwhelmed him and he looked at these men, trembling, disturbed, speaking of demons, and he spat on the ground. What disturbed him more was that their superstitions had resonated with him. He then saw it as his duty to bring them back to reason. To do so he would have to identify and kill whatever it was that had attacked and wounded Brol. Perhaps it was a large cat. A wolf. It did not matter. It had become a specter to these men. And the Rogue would seek it out. The Rogue shifted his blade hanging from his belt.
"Speak clearly, man! Demons! Nonsense! You've obviously been smoking too much lassra weed to indulge in such phantasies! Now--tell me clearly. What was it that stole into the camp?"
Tauos frowned. Rew gritted his teeth. And Brol--after a moment--he laughed heartily. Standing from his chair against the protestations of the other two merchants, Brol approached the Rogue.
"Perhaps Rew and Tauos speak too soon by calling these things demons, but it was a sort of monster that crept into our sleeping camp last night. They have most surely killed three of us, or dragged them off to a fate word than death, at least. I'll prove it to you, my skeptical though good-natured slave. I managed to kill one. It's corpse is rotting outside of my tent, covered by a cloak because it was too horrible to look upon. If you're not too frightened, good slave, I'll show it to you. One look is worth an entire evening's discussion about what befell us when you went away."
The Rogue respected Brol, and so he assented. He helped Brol out of the tent. With the aid of a pole-blade used as a walking stick, Brol left his tent and proceed to go around to its back.
By that time the other merchants had heard of the Rogue's return. They had left behind their breakfasts, their steaming cups of blackroot, their conversations, in order to witness their savior's return. Many of them were mustering in the camp when Brol, the Rogue, Rew, and Tauos issued from it.
Eventually they all came to a small mound covered by a blood soaked cloak. They all stared at it wordlessly.
Brol was flanked by Tauos. Tauos was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Rew had his arms folded across his chest and his eyes seemed to tremble with suppressed emotion. And Paj--the groveling fool who met the Rogue when he returned to the camp--he was in the middle of the remaining merchants, gibbering and crying. He was muttering to himself and whispering to his companions, who leaned away from him, embarrassed and disturbed by his behavior. Obviously, whatever had happened the the merchant's during the Rogue's absence had deeply effected Paj's mind.
Brol knelt down next to the blood soaked cloak and sighed when his wound began to bleed again. "I warned you, Brol!" Tauos shouted, coming to his leader's aid. "Shut up, fool! I need to show our mercenary the horror came upon us last eve!"
With that Brol dragged off the cloak revealing a sight horrible to the Rogue. The Rogue's breath came shortly. He felt his mind reel, the knot of his sanity loosening. He swallowed.
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