[h3]The Hunter's Dream[/h3]
Desperately diving for cover, Farren's closest option were the smaller headstones in front of him, which predictably left him on the ground right next to where Gerlinde was still hiding. The woman watched him attentively, evidently still curious to observe the strange phenomenon that afflicted him even if she lacked her usual glee, but otherwise stayed put.
Farren would find that breaking the creature's line of vision on him seemed to immediately stop the black quills from materializing and skewering him, allowing him a moment to heal, though he would also feel quite clearly that his cells continued to vibrate with frenzy. The build-up of this maddening influence did not dissipate immediately, it seemed, but only slowly began to gradually recede.

Up in the workshop Torquil had been preparing himself mentally, trying his very best to bolster his will and hone his body to the point where he had a chance to do what Ophelia had asked of him. “Don't look at it,” she had said. “Hit with your eyes closed,” she had said. “We'll let the others engage and move in when it's focusing on them,” she had said... though that last part made it feel very weird to him when she suddenly darted out of the workshop on her own as soon as they heard someone discharging a firearm. He was very confused about her actions and could not help but question how this fit in with the plan she had just told him... but even so he pushed aside his doubts and steeled himself. Ophelia knew what she was talking about. [I]We'll let the others engage and move in when it's focusing on them. Don't look at it. Hit with your eyes closed.[/I]
He tried to memorize the layout of the Dream, closed his eyes and worked on visualizing it, as well as listening for the monster and trying to determine a way to tell its exact location from sound. He imagined running in with his eyes closed, remembering the path he would need to run along, and how he would swing his hammer at it. They had a plan; all he had to do was follow the plan...

“You can look! Its gaze hurts you!” were Ophelia's words upon returning to the workshop a scant couple of seconds after she had departed, and then she kept running, leaving Torquil to stare at her as she left him once again. Leaving him to the sound of the living nightmare coming straight toward him, wailing like a banshee, at a highly disconcerting speed. Directly toward him. It was coming to [I]him[/I].
[I]But... I was supposed to move in while it focused on them,[/I] he thought, his heartbeat quickening as he felt his heart sink. [I]I... wait, no, just give me a moment, just a second, just let me think, just, please, just a second, please, please...[/I]
But Torquil did not have a second, let alone a moment; the Winter Lantern was on the doorstep, its hideous form right next to him. He could not think. He just had to act.
Acting on the instructions he had had a chance to prepare for rather than the ones he had only just heard in passing, Torquil closed his eyes, gripped Fulmen tightly with both hands, summoned every shred of superhuman strength he had, and swung in a big, horizontal arc. With a surge of elation he felt that he hit something, and knew he hit it [I]very[/I] hard... though neither he nor anyone else – since no one else was around and his eyes were closed – knew that the thing he had hit was not the abomination, but the frame of the doorway.

Despite his eyes being closed, Torquil felt the familiar sense of building frenzy wash over him, and felt thin spikes punch into him, piercing deep into his flesh. Then he felt four “hands” grasp him, of which two – the ones seizing him by the waist – felt like somewhat human hands and two – grabbing him by his shoulders – felt horribly misshapen and weirdly amorphous. Looking on from outside, the others might have a chance to witness the tendril-like appendages hanging from the creature's head to spontaneously rise, combine and morph into a pair of huge, absurdly muscular arms.
The grapple carried Torquil and the Winter Lantern both into the workshop and away from the doorway, out of Ophelia's line of sight and, more importantly, the line of fire of the Holy Moonlight Sword. Letting out a whimper that had no chance of being heard over their opponent's screeching, Torquil finally opened his eyes just in time to see his captor lift up its head far enough to reveal its underside, which he found was the only part of the head not covered in eyes. Instead, the lower part of its head appeared to be occupied by numerous mouths. Gaping mouths with sharp teeth and snapping jaws.
The mouths descended upon Torquil's head, and he closed his eyes again.