Shane lowered his bow, empty now, having released his latest arrow into the crowd. He'd heard the echoes, seeing the men dying in droves of blood... wincing, knowing if he were such a target, he'd be dead along with these... these murders of people escaping slaughter only to be driven to it.<br/><br/>The archer glanced behind his shoulder at this diminished quiver. He'd need to make more arrows to replace the ones used. Seven... it wasn't worth picking them from the mangled bodies, as shattered as they were.<br/><br/>Shane lifted his head to look at the sky, still blue, but with gray clouds forming, a chill wind rushing past. The archer shivered.<br/><br/>"I hate to say it, but our purposes deemed by the Gods may be the least of our problems... According to the Deacon of Whitemount, and the Gridori's head shaman, the Gods... aren't in our realm anymore."