The archer listened to the strong warrior give his opinion, even waiting past the moment of silence as the man finished with what was to be the final word. However, Shane was not entirely finished explaining himself.<br/><br/>"You misunderstand my meaning, warrior. I was in the church as the Deacon prayed for the congregation to be saved. He ended up embracing the fireball that flew through the air to slay him; there was no trace of the aura the Deacon usually has while praying."<br/><br/>Shane's eyes were dark with remembering the carnage and slaughter in the battle. "And the shaman was who I faced before finding the refugees. He tried to cast a spell to bind me to the ground; the vines broke as easy as paper, and my arrows found his eyes and neck easy enough. If he'd been protected, I'd be stone dead, more so than King Rolan."<br/><br/>The archer spat on the ground, more in contempt of the dead king rather than any real reason. "I don't know how or why, but somehow I can feel this, don't ask me to explain how, but they were taken, as easily as a thief steals a purse..."