[h3][i]Barcea, Southwestern Region - Cyril, Calypso, and Company[/i][/h3]

For a little while, Calypso's gaze remained towards Etsuko. Certainly she saw the worry on Etsuko's face, but that was usually a standard expression for the Diviner anyway. Slowly but surely, her gaze travelled back towards the group even as Etsuko spoke. In particular, she was focused on the massive creature, not really paying attention to the individual riding on it or the others nearby on horses... And, just like that, the choice was out of any of their hands.

[b]"Yes, let's...~"[/b]

It was with those two words that Calypso led the way towards the group off the road, leading her companion along on the trip by example. As this happened, the conversation between the one riding on the creature and the ones on horses was properly beginning to start...  Haphazardly enough.

To say that Cyril wasn't expecting to get ignored was actually an overstatement. Though he wasn't completely aware of it, he had already been at least slightly expecting it, just from the way the man had been acting ever since he had first shown up with the automatons that had tried killing them all. Because of this unconscious preparation, the Prince only blinked slightly, and then raised his right eyebrow as he watched the scene unfold between the Jasian and his mount. That, perhaps, was the most surprising thing yet, seeing as both rider and mount understood one another literally, but the mount also began smacking the rider repeatedly. The mount was probably owed a thanks, though, seeing as it was what brought Drosil's attention back to the matter at hand.

While Alasa drifted off slightly to the side as he kept watch, his eyes focused on the two figures on the road, and Ayano kept next to the Prince, Cyril attentively listened to what the Jasian had to say about what triggered the entire incident. Cyril knew about ruins scattered here and there all over the world, or at least that was what he had heard; ruins from the days of long ago, when the world was very different, some religious in nature and some not. Beyond that though, he didn't know too much about them, including how their defenses were... well, almost alive. He supposed there was a reason why very few people actually went down in there. You had to be brave, or quite possibly insane, and more and more Drosil seemed to fall into the latter category.

This seemed even more apparent as, when Drosil began to talk to Ayano, he suddenly went into an analysis and criticism involving her disability. While Cyril could grimace slightly to hold back his instant retort, he couldn't stop Ayano from going, [b]"Hey! What do you know?!"[/b] Clearly, she was more than just a little upset being talked about in such a way by a stranger, and there was also the fact that she was a Princess as well... Something Cyril left out on purpose in his introduction of himself and his group.

Before Ayano could launch into her tirade against Drosil, which probably would have been about the way his color smelled of all things, the mount once again came to the rescue whether intentionally or not. However, nearly getting a mouthful of antenna wouldn't have been the Prince's first choice of defusing the conversation, but he wasn't exactly able to be choosy. While Alasa nearly brought up his bow while the antenna went to the Prince's face, Cyril's hand went out quickly to stop the movement. His other hand, meanwhile, went to Ayano, resting on her shoulder as he knew the antenna would be switching soon enough.

[b]"Coming to you, Ayano- quiet, it's okay."[/b] The Princess shuddered initially, but nodded at her brother's words. She clearly didn't enjoy the sensation, and neither did Alasa when it was his turn. Even Cyril brought his hand up slightly to rub at his face, just nodding some at Drosil as he only half-listened to the Jasian, more focused on Ayano as she brought up both hands to her face. Beyond that, though, she was alright, and thankfully too had forgotten the words that the Jasian had said just before antenna had started touching her... for the most part, hopefully.

Cyril's gaze finally went back to Drosil as the man simply invited himself into the group. Certainly, the Jasian was odd, and quite possibly not all the way there, but the Prince saw no reason to simply refuse him for those reasons. After all, it meant they'd be able to learn more about him, and keep an eye on him as well for at least a little while.

[b]"I... wouldn't have even noticed."[/b] The Prince said this, though Drosil's lost social skills (and whatever amount of 'mind') were fairly obvious. The Prince just carried on past this though, nodding slightly at Drosil in a vaguely approving manner. [b]"I've no qualms with you tagging along to the village. We were on our way there after all, and bigger parties are usually better, anyway. Especially one with a... Deathcrawler, you said?"[/b] The Prince adjusted himself in his seat slightly to be better prepared for riding, beginning to glance in the direction of the road. [b]"Let's get going, then, we're losing daylight- Oh, hello?"[/b]

Alasa had been watching them coming, but this was the moment the Prince first saw anything of the two coming from the road. The one in the lead was the taller one with silver hair, dark clothes, a smile on her face, and very purple eyes, and her gaze seemed focused upon Sir Mauls-a-lot rather intently. In fact, the Prince's greeting almost went completely missed, but after a blink as she approached the woman looked to him briefly, continuing to smile as she waved with her fingers at them all, before her gaze returned to the Deathcrawler. She didn't say a word.

At a lost, Cyril just blinked slightly as he slowly looked over to the woman's companion, who wore much more light-in-color clothes. [b]"Uh... My name is Cyril. This is Ayano, my sister, and a friend of mine Alasa. That's Drosil, who just joined up with us. Nice to... uh... Meet you."[/b]

Even as he spoke, Cyril was distracted by the first woman, the one in darker clothes. She had gotten closer to the Deathcrawler, looking up to the creature with a sparkle in her eye. Slowly, she brought her hand up, reaching towards the Deathcrawler initially, before pulling back slightly with her fingers, and then finally bringing her hand to rest lightly against Sir Mauls-a-lot, beginning to gently run her hand over the creature's shell.

[b]"...~"[/b] It was almost a musical noise.

It was about that moment the Ayano slumped against her brother slightly to his surprise, holding her up as she murmured, [b]"So many colors..."[/b]

It seemed today was a day for odd meetings, though Alasa wasn't really focused on them as the Prince was. To the Sentinel, something was very, very wrong, though he was sure what yet... His gut feelings were usually right.

[hr]
The scene at the village that was supposed to be their goal was just like those all along the western rim of Barcea. Villages for several miles into the land were targeted by the H'kelan forces, which had divided on their march to spread out and strike several at once. The attacks were sudden and brutal. No mercy was shown to anyone, and the slaughter was complete. When done, the forces of H'kela either moved on to the next village or returned back to H'kela.

Smoke rose from smoldering homes. Debris and ash covered the ground, and what was once green and light brown was now covered in crumbling black, grey, and white. Buildings were collapsed and crops were burned. Animals and people were slaughtered and left to rot in the streets, in the destroyed buildings, and in the surrounding fields. The stench of blood and gore was so strong that it cut through the thick smell of smoke and dying fires like a rusty knife. Everywhere there were heavy footprints in the ash, haphazardly crossing back and forth.

The villagers would have had no real weapons, and tools that they did have could barely have functioned as makeshift ones. However it was woefully apparent that there had been barely been any time to prepare for the attack at all, if there had been any to begin with. Those who did fight were killed, and those who had tried to flee were killed.

There was no doubt that this was not the work of bandits. The destruction was much too thorough and the deaths were much too complete. This was not a raid for supplies, as nothing was taken, just destroyed and rendered useless. This was something much, much more; a slaughter by well-trained soldiers who were more than ready for blood. After ten short years of peace, war had returned to the East.