Chapter Text
Thog doesn't have any attachment to these folk, he's only known them for at most six weeks in Ashe's case to a few days for Markus. They are just potential assets that he'll be unable to use until they finish their quest for a drunk paladin. When Thog is explaining that to the motley crew inside of the jail cell, he's more trying to convince himself rather than them, even if he doesn't realize it at the time. Dear demons, devils, angels, and gods, that did not work. That definitely didn't work.
As soon as he walks away, he wishes that he could have helped them little more; rent them some better equipment to improve their survival odds or even help them escape; but instead he goes to the bar to drink paint thinner and forget about this headache of a day.
Months later, the Alaran man starts to have nightmares about that entire ordeal and whenever someone asks what gets him on edge, he pretends it's whatever chaos is currently in front of him or fear of the tax goat.