Roland had... in a phrase... learned when to leave Farfarello alone. When it came to weaponry in particular, the scarred man was best left to his own devices, and that was it. At this point, Roland was more than happy to leave said man on his own; after seeing what had happened with his comrades, he was far more concerned about them than anything else.

The only thing that had given him pause was when he opened up his closet to retrieve the lanterns and pick axes, finding his old outfit there. The wool coat, the camouflage pants, and most importantly, the sturdy leather boots that he'd missed. Without preamble, he stripped down and changed into something far more comfortable, grinning as he felt... well, like himself again. No flask in the coat pocket, but he could deal with that.

For now, he just strolled out the door, shouldering those axes and holding on to the lamps as he headed on. If he didn't miss his guess, he knew where he could find his comrades.