[ The people here are all so gentle with him - as if he isn't a ten-foot demigod hardened by neverending war. Messmer's been spit on, stabbed, betrayed, abandoned, yet Rom would rather stew in his own uncertainty than risk hurting his feelings. Perhaps it is natural kindness: the type a person possessed of a tender heart would show any stranger, no matter how odd or unwelcoming. Rom had spoken of his loneliness before, though in less exact terms, and of his closeness to the spirits of those passed. Sensitivity to the dead, in his experience, often equates to sensitivity to the living, as well.

And he's reminded, too, of his own bitterness, and his age. Not everyone can so readily detach themselves from their emotions. He's merely had ample time to practice. ]

My stance on this matter I have taken clearly. The game is of numbers alone; my emotions live separate aside. My choice was no more than educated guess, to expand further our knowledge. [ he pauses, then continues, a little more gently. ] ... I have striven to act alone, that I might burden none with my presence. I would have chosen otherwise, had I known thou wouldst be by mine actions troubled.