"Hey, there are worse things to shoot between the eyes. Maybe you could have your blade-- oh wait you don't have one.. Right cause you didn't have to be wrist deep in gore.. How convenient for you.."<br/><br/>Rarovan still had the wonderful smell.. It took the better part of the day just to get the gunk off.. but now his armor had acquired this rather rancid oder. He'd gotten most of the undead aroma, but there was this lingering bit. He smelt of blood essentially. Not that it seemed to matter, there wasn't anyone to impress in this place. He sipped his ale, still a bit sour from the encounter. It just simply was gross, he had no other explanation.<br/><br/>"But no, it doesn't make you a sociopath, it's the undead, how can you feel at all sad about the passing of those who are ALREADY dead.." So I wouldn't worry about it.