[color=#007FFF][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]		    dry heaved once more from the taste the first wretched retching had left in his mouth, but thereafter he wiped his lips and quickly began to properly recover. [color=#007FFF][b]“Ugh…”[/b][/color] he groaned, taking in Ophelia’s words. If he were honest…Farren had little desire to return, but he understood how it could benefit them…and that if it came down to it, Ophelia would likely have gone alone over and over again until she succeeded. Besides…surely the echoes in this Arayah’s blood would serve them well.

[color=#007FFF][b]“Brand me then.”[/b][/color]

When she was done with that business, Farren took to reloading his various firearms. When he was done and they were once more in place, Farren went to the workshop-cabin atop the hill and then to the chest full of armaments. He sifted through, wondering just how many Hunter’s Pistols remained therein.

However, as he withdrew some, and reached the bottom of the chest…there always seemed to be more. He stopped after ten of each, frowning. Well…he did suppose it was a dream, even though he knew the armaments were real enough. Shrugging slightly, Farren beckoned the Messengers, handed off three unloaded blunderbusses–just in case. It made sense to have spares. Then five Pistols as well.

That done, he glanced at the pair of Hunter’s Pistols, and the pair of blunderbusses that remained, now laid out atop the closed chest. With the Messengers still at hand, he gave them his Piercing Rifle. He loaded the second blunderbuss and slid it into the fastening at his back where the rifle had gone previously. This left him with a total of three blunderbusses and three pistols, Bulwark, the Beastflayer, and his Blade(s) of Mercy, Effigial and Mundane.

First he loaded the remaining firearms, then he affixed a new hook to his right hip and hung the final blunderbuss there–one at each hip. The pair of Pistols he regarded for a moment, then affixed holsters at his belt near his lower back before he slid them in.

Two Hunter’s Pistols, on opposite sides of his spine, holsters at the belt that held his pants and various other accouterments and armaments. One such Pistol at his left hip, holstered. Blades of Mercy at each hip, sheathed–one Effigial, one not. Beastflayer and blunderbuss upon his back, and one Blunderbuss at each of his hips, hanging from hooks. Bulwark too remained, hanging from a loop at his right hip, slightly back from the Blade of Mercy.

It was a lot, but he had a feeling that having the extra firearms–if only for this fight–would let him do more harm to Arrayah’s healing than not. Lodging all that quicksilver in its flesh–even with his weaker bloodtinge–ought to do [i]something[/i].

All that done, Farren rose, weapons either equipped are stowed away with the Helpers, and exited the building returning to his companions.

[color=#007FFF][b]“I’m ready.”[/b][/color]