[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

"Yes, you're right, it seems delving directly into Isz would be a fool's errand. I think we'll have to build some experience with the labyrinth first. Gehrman said something I found terribly interesting, too, that Rom was once a scholar who ascended and became something... lesser than they were before, it seems. Whereas you seem to have changed in rather a more positive manner--why is that? Is there something you did that caused your ascension? Some knowledge, or artefact, or..? If we pseudo-immortals can take the place of the gods, perhaps the world can yet be put to rights. It seems killing Great Ones has consequences beyond what could've been imagined. Ah, it also turns out I'm one of these 'Vilebloods' by birth--so we'll be heading to Cainhurst imminently. Could you prepare whatever chalices yet remain here while we're gone, please, loves?" Ophelia replied, her eyes glistening as her mind worked behind them.

She looked over her shoulder at the others intermittently while she spoke too, in the natural pauses and lulls of her speech. She noticed a particular slump in Torquil's posture, and though his headwear and the distance between them conspired to hide the look on his face she was quite sure it was the same melancholy that had gripped him ever since the wraith had manifested here. She wished that she could help him through whatever battle was going on in his mind, but knew that he was responsible for his own salvation--or destruction, as it were. He would get to decide for himself. She hoped he'd let her help, that there was something she could do to help. The poor lad... They needed to go back to the forest anyway, as had been planned earlier. Maybe they could find wherever it was he used to live, perhaps some clues yet remained there.