Joasaie was having a marvelous time during the tournament, cheering Cieli, Sera, Zzalangua and Siby on during their fights; congratulating them after each match, win or loss. During her own matches, the Yanar couldn't keep the faint look of enjoyment off her face. The first match had them needing a breather after winning, complimenting Alathiniel's skill and admitting to expecting a loss against the Altalar. The second match versus an Orc of all races had the Yanar nervous, but determined. That war club was not fun to deal with, but with the match called in her favor, a polite bow was given to the larger Orc in appreciation for the match. Upon facing Matthew, the Yanar had finally gained a look of annoyance. No one touches her atraves, and Matthew regretted doing so with a yank of it away and its blade a bit too close for comfort near his face.
The finals were here and Joasaie's expression had returned to a subtle excitement, the match against Zelgius relieving the Yanar. Shields were always an annoyance to handle with her lighter weapon, but silently cheered when her speed outmaneuvered Zelgius and pushed him to defeat with parries and counters aplenty against each of his movements. By the end, as the very last match started, the Yanar was tiring. They had never fought this much even during the war fronts they had been apart of and it showed. A grunt of pain escaped when her arm was cut and the wound ended up sealed the match's result. Joa fought until the end but having a very important limb diminished in use was never easy to work with. The pain from the early wound made fighting effectively, kneeling and admitting defeat with an accepting grin.
Joasaie stood beside Cieli during the celebrating, a furrowing of her brows showing as she rubbed and picked at the now tended and bandaged wound on her arm. It was a fun tournament, even if she lost in the end, "The next tournament, you better get to the finals with me, Cieli." The Yanar drank from her cup, sticking to water for once. Joa grumbled and focused on anything but the itch of skin healing, finally managing a small nudge to the nelfin with a faint grin, "You did good, dear. Grown up quite nicely, though now you know I'm not the only Yanar who has skill in combat, hm? Appearances are deceiving, after-all. Ehehe."
The moment between the two friends was ruined by the sounds of clanking and screaming, prompting a slam of Joasaie's water on a table as she rushed out with the other guards, though lacking her official armor. A frown forming on her face at the scene before them, before looking up towards the crossbow-wielding man on the roof. They knew that eye-patched ginger anywhere, especially his off key singing voice, "This is why nice things don't happen. Damn it." There goes the night's mood.
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