Shad sat there at the workbench idly mending the various pieces of leather and mail the Argents seemed to have in abundance.  Offering, no insisting, his aid in any way possible.  All he could think was his last conversation with Lyc before she had gone off...

           "Keep quiet. I went looking for Daelin. I know what happened to my children."

            The hell did she mean by that?

            "Take care of Elicoor.  Take care of them."

            "I'll do the best I can Lyc. And Lyc. You find these bastards and you make them pay."

            "I will. Don't worry. I know what I have to do."

            "Fel damnit Xana'ri!" he shouts, slipping back into draenei in his frustration.  Slamming his fists into the table, completely ruining the breastplate he had been working on.  Looking at the ruined mail, he sets it aside and sits at the workbench tired and irritated.

            "And now I have to talk to Khoura."

            Clearly unable to do any work, he picks up his cloak and leaves the room he was staying in.  He needed to think.