Gareth took one last bitter sip and put the glass down with such force, almost enough to either break the glass or leave a mark in the table, and on the outside, his boiling rage showed in the form of balled up, shaking fists and a tense posture. He sought to be free of the chain of command then, for since birth he tried to find glory in freedom and independence. Harker didn't like this at all. Thomas didn't stop to explain the happenings. Gareth felt cut out of the loop—nobody informed him of Thomas's assumed position of power, he felt cheated. He tried hard, and he panicked in that room in the morning trying to save Redwyne, who, before succumbing to death, grabbed the half-elf's arm for dear life. He and his thoughts fell again into confusion and disorder and began to trivialize his emotions. Was he right to be upset or angry? He decided then it was wrong for him to allow himself to be consumed by his passionate feelings, and thought himself without self-control. Harker frowned, and, looking down and away from Walden, bolted from his chair to utter with what little courage he could manage. "I am a human first, squire second. And, damn me to the netherworld, I can't be the hero you want." Again, for the third time, he crumbled into his despondency, speech turning into a blubbering mess hindered by choked noises and tears he quickly wiped away. "I can't fix myself, and I have no idea of [i]what the hell[/i] is going on here. But that bastard let me fall further when the first of men I came to meet was sent to trial and didn't clarify anything for me when I felt terror. I am not a hardened man, I am a scared child." With that he confided what little he could piece together of the spell of madness he was under ever since night of the second day. Gareth turned on his feet and started for his quarters, hiding his face from passersby.