[center][h3]Barcea, Southwestern Region[/h3]
[b]Joy[/b][/center]

Joy did not have to wait long for the Sentinels here strange, scaled companion had warned her about to show up. She propped herself up everso slightly to get a better view of the three. She noted the drawn bow, but before she could completely size up a woman bolted towards Sir Mauls. Joy momentarily thought about warning the statuesque woman about approaching the deathcrawler, but then she caught sight of the third man. She felt herself swiftly shoot up to a sitting position, drawing the attention of the third man. The two momentarily locked eyes. The color fled from her dirtied and tanned face. She felt her chest tighten as a wave of guilt loomed over her. A lump tightening in her throat was the only thing that held her back from shouting in shock. Her mind was alit with confusion, panic, regret, and sorrow. There was no way. Had she finally cracked? No, it was clearly him.

[I]...Olain.[/i]

Joy felt like crying as the man she had failed to save stared back her. [i]You coward,[/i] she thought she heard him say. [i]Traitor.[/i] She wanted to protest, to ask for his forgiveness, to try and explain that she had done everything she could. [i]Liar. Cheater. Murderer.[/i] Gripping her fingers tightly into a fist, she lowered her head and gave it a slight shake. Olain was dead; this was nonsense. She took a deep breath. Looking back up, the illusion began to fade away as Cyril's form took shape. [i]Ambrosia, does he look like his father now,[/i] she thought, studying Cyril. Her eyes lingered on his lower weapon. A memory of her days as Vesta training the boy to never lower his guard flashed through her mind. Apparently she had failed to make an impression on the boy. Perhaps that was for the best. She highly doubted that she was a topic of pleasant conversation in the Serio family. His questioned confirmed her suspicions: he either had no memory of her, or could no longer see the face of the former guard captain behind the grime and years. 

“I-” She cleared her throat. Now was not the time to be emotional or dwell on the past. “I'm nobody of real circumstance.” She took the opportunity of Sir Mauls being distracted by the other woman to stand up, leaning against her scabbard to help her up. She cast a cautious glance over at the archer before returning her gaze back to Cyril. “Then again, the last time I tried to keep my privacy I was held at gunpoint by a boy and his bug,” said Joy, ruffling her hair with her fingers as she thought of a convincing yarn to spin. Her mind was too hazy to think of anything elaborate; simple and vague it was, then.

“My name's Joy. I don't know who that gentleman is, but he might have been that Drosil you mentioned. You can ask him to explain that. I'm just a traveler who's saw smoke and decided to try and do their good deed for the day. Like you Sentinels, I was too late. Then again, judging by the scene I doubt any of us could have done much of anything except add to the total body count.” Tucking her hand into her pocket, she surveyed the destruction. Drosil's addition to the wreckage really helped sell her point, as it had kicked up some of the more foul smells that had previously settled.

“I fear that this is more than a bandit attack. H'kelans, probably, although I don't have solid proof.” She noted the wet blood that was still on the Prince's blade. “But I think you may have already known that. There's a church in the middle of town that could have some more definite answers, but I couldn't get the door open. I came back here to get some supplies to get it open, by my horse had run off in the mean time. Probably smelled that thing,” she jutted a finger towards Sir Mauls, “and booked it.”

She decided to omit the part where Drosil had held her against her will do to him being rightfully suspicious of the woman. Judging by the other woman's familiarity with his creepy crawler friend, Joy felt it would be unwise to try to badmouth the strange man. The last thing she wanted was another standoff, especially one involving Cyril. 

“So, what is your course of action now? Go run to your commander and tell him to get his sister to march troops on H'kela?” she asked, pretending not to know the man she was talking to was the Prince.