"Confusing," Roland repeats, looking almost as if he's studying her as he says it. Not because she's said something odd, but because that's far enough from his own first instincts about a place like this that he has to walk himself through the reasoning. "Why do you say so? I'd think a people whose ways are so much more extravagant than my own would have extravagant traditions, too."

Roland puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head back, looking up toward the tops of the - to him, at least - high, stylized buildings. His voice isn't too obviously dry, isn't too obviously careful, but those things are there, aye. It's the most he can do to warn her to watch what she says, and he thinks things will go better for her if she's perceptive enough to pick up on that. That hint of a tone, the suggestion in his posture that his words here aren't really so casual. "And I think you'll find tradition is what it is. A fine tradition, going back a fair piece of time. Even before the gamemakers invited us here to help them in it."