"Those were added to the Isle to do what they could. Most of them were broken beyond being able to reintegrate into society normally. And yes, I did. I am doing the best I can with the tools I get or can acquire. Why is everyone trying to lump me into the chaotic GOOD category? Do I have to go out and eat a screaming baby every morning to get you all to understand that I can not, and will not, be some sort of plaster savior to get tossed onto some pedestal? We have enough so-called gods like that, Ama, and I have rules to my actions, and I usually follow them. Or maybe you missed me torturing my greater aspect to death for violating one of those rules?<br/><br/>I am STILL at heart a MORTAL, Ama. I have this issue empathizing with people, always have, no matter how much I fake it otherwise. I am somewhat amoral, slightly sociopathic, and probably pretty freaking crazy. And yet I STILL manage to get the hell out of bed after I stagger into it for a half hour, if I am lucky, a week. I am just some poor, misguided, eternally reincarnated bastard that just wanted to make things a little better for the people under him, but ended up working with two creatures that make normal demons look like saints. I got a good look at that me, Ama, and believe me, that incarnation was NOT a happy go lucky playboy I pretend to be.<br/><br/>I can't save everyone, so I save what I can of mine, and do what I have time and resources for to help the rest. I picked every last one of my companions up to be TOOLS, Ama, to be objects to help with the masks I have to wear to try and keep myself from descending into screaming hysterics and insanity. I have a million people begging for help, I have four billion constructs trying to hold lines that I am not sure we can, I have demons requesting that I unleash them on the planes to be a blight like never seen before, and angels that want to lead CRUSADES. I have four wives when I am drenched in blood. I have thirty four children when I am so covered in filth that I worry I can't be the father they need, a friend and whatever else they might want. I am being pulled in a hundred thousand directions, and when someone calls me out for not ASKING for help, when they themselves will not come forward to offer it, I think I have the right to get a bit pissed off and complain about it.<br/><br/>If not, please, tell me, and I can lower my standards yet again, drive all of you away, and go for the zero approval gambit, and leave you all to a LN true immortal that has existed for about fifteen to twenty million years, and seen the ages of magic and technology cycle through three times after me and Verdelet kill each other."<br/><br/>He realized he was yelling again, and turned and shattered his fist as he punched a wall, angry at himself for getting angry at her. The pain made him stop, and he stared at the flattened hand for a moment, before calmly cutting it off, and regrowing it with a thought, the mask back on, and another that Jashah had removed off returning. "Whatever, not important, lets get this descent finished, and you outfitted properly. If you don't like my methods, take it up with Fate. She seems to think they work."