"Hmm... I suppose if you won't get the opportunity to build up a good charge... Though I am curious if Arrayah might have some sort of vulnerability to fire, or to lightning perhaps... Gerlinde, you can test out fire with that little horn you used against the Darkbeast? Do we have anything... lightning-based that isn't Fulmen? There are these papers that Hunters use to infuse weapons with elemental power; perhaps we should try and get some? Otherwise I leave it up to you, love. My blade whispers to me only so much - I'm not really the best at working out the logistics of weapons, it's more... otherworldly forces, runes, that sort of thing. Use whatever you feel is appropriate. Perhaps we should ask the Moonborn?" Ophelia replied, turning to face them and the doll.

"I don't imagine you've ever faced this foe in particular, or the weapon would've been a part of our arsenal long ago... but let me describe them to you, perhaps you have some ideas?" Ophelia began, before giving them an explanation of everything they could recall about Arrayah's physiology. They hadn't gotten a chance to truly observe her in combat, so she couldn't provide any of that information, but it was always worth a shot.

Ophelia branded herself with the Mask rune while she listened, upset to let the whispers of her blade grow dim and wary that reduced communication might lead it to get confused and side with Arrayah more easily than before... but she'd rather they all have a chance to actually kill the creature. Though that did bring her to another tidbit she felt important to mention:

"Ah, and if Arrayah pins me and goes to take my blade again without any recourse for me to stop it... Kill me. Immediately and without hesitation. Letting her get my half of the blade would be catastrophic, I'm sure we can all agree."

“Paper... like this?” Torquil mused, reaching into the pouch on his hip and retrieving a thin strip of bluish paper, with one side covered in a curious ferrous-looking dust. “This fell out earlier when I took off the other set of armor.”
Gerlinde glanced at it and nodded her head. “What luck! That's bolt paper! Just rub it on a weapon and it'll be sparkling with electricity for a while.” She turned to Ophelia. “And sure, I'll try my Horn of the Old Lords. Handy little thing, works as well as fire paper and only costs a quicksilver bullet to power it.”

The doll and the Shopkeeper appeared to listen intently to Ophelia's recollection of the foe they had discovered awaiting them in the Old Labyrinth. As usual the Shopkeeper merely stood there, seemingly silent, while the doll started conveying their message: “The hind body sounds to be more trouble than it is worth, good Hunter; too dangerous to get near and not particularly vulnerable. The more humanoid front sounds like a much better target, though that is likely also where her attention will be focused and where her hands, sword and maw are. By your description, Arrayah seems to maintain a surprising amount of humanity despite her twisted form... and considering that she may be the counterpart to the one the Shopkeeper took the Holy Moonlight Sword from – Ludwig – you should expect this to be an extremely tough battle.”
Pausing to glance hesitantly at the Shopkeeper, the doll finally added: “The Shopkeeper also remarks that you should not assume to understand Arrayah's sword. If it is truly the counterpart to the Holy Moonlight Sword, it is likely that it, too, will only reveal its true power after transforming.”

_Farren

took in the description of Arrayah, his companion’s responses regarding their approach, and the words of their hosts with his usual regard. Calm and intent upon pulling any nugget of practical knowledge he could from their words.

The physiology of their foe was the most helpful, with a close second being the interpretation and warning from the Moonbound Hunter. Yet…there wasn’t much to say there, so instead, Farren glanced to Torquil for a moment, and then the others, “I…have a plan, but we’ll only get one shot at it,” Farren supplied, digging in one of his pouches and then extracting the Snakescale Hourglass.

“This will give whoever uses it five seconds to act unimpeded, as if the rest of the world had slowed or nearly stopped.”

Farren extracted another item, a vial of warm, roiling blood that seemed somehow distinct from the usual blood vials they used.

“...and this is a vial of Dark Beast’s blood. It greatly increases the imbibers speed, agility, and endurance…as well as allowing them to quickstep without limit. Lasts for about 20 seconds apparently.”

Farren briefly swept his gaze over them, “They’re a bit…costly in terms of echoes, but we could find somewhere to acquire more of such…return, purchase them from the Messengers and then take another swing at Arrayah.”

He let that potentiality hang a moment, then spoke again, “...or we can go back now, we can give these to Torquil and let him wail on the twisted champion the Fulmen.” At the prospect, Farren grinned, “Five seconds isn’t terribly long, but if he’s close when he activates it and he leverages his strength, well…he’ll build charge awful quick, and I reckon a proper discharge of Fulmen as at least liable to deplete a great deal of Arrayah’s reserves.”

Farren looked to Torquil. He’d suggested the man take on the important role because he was the strongest of them. Not the fastest, but the best equipped to wield Fulmen. That, and the man seemed to be…coming into his own, after a fashion and whereas before he might not have trusted him with such a role, now Torquil felt more…thoughtful, observant, and aware.

It bore testing.

“As for the rest of us, you especially, Ophelia, I think it best we not get too close to Arrayah, if we can help it.”

The bitch simply had too many damned limbs, if her description was to be trusted–and he did trust it. It would be far too easy for one of them to get grappled again–especially Ophelia–who would surely be its prime target.

"Hmm... we saw the corpse of a Darkbeast in there, didn't we? We know that Cainhurst royals are like to become Darkbeasts, based on Paarl, and that the chalice affording us entry is also from Cainhurst--so perhaps Arrayah isn't weak to electricity anyway. The only way we'll know for sure is by testing, though I think we save these items until we've a better idea of exactly what we're dealing with. When Arrayah transforms her blade she'll probably be able to do things similar to what mine can: fire off blasts from a distance, and create explosions up close." Ophelia opined in return to Farren, having nodded excitedly to Torquil when he produced the bolt paper earlier.

"The axe seems a good choice for now, dear, and you can use the bolt paper to test out Arrayah's weaknesses. Or... perhaps, given that this fight does indeed seem to be rather lethal, it might be a good idea for us to seek out echoes elsewhere and become stronger before we continue attempting it. If Arrayah ever gets her hands on my half of the blade, well... I don't even want to think about it. We could always summon the Moonborn, too, though... It would have to be for research purposes, to test what she can do, and not to actually try to kill her. To prove myself worthy of the completed blade, it must be me..." Ophelia added, speaking to Torquil and then the Shopkeeper and Doll. She was truly undecided at this point: getting stronger did seem like a good idea, and she did want Arrayah's echoes as well as the sense of accomplishment... there was plenty to do out in the Waking World, too. She couldn't help but feel a little out of her proverbial league, and Arrayah had definitely felt like a hopelessly absolute loss... though she supposed that was simply anxiety. They'd get her true measure by counteracting the inverted Guidance rune's effect and fighting her.

“If you call the Shopkeeper somewhere, they will hunt anything they deem viable prey, good Hunter,” the doll cautioned Ophelia with an apologetic bow of her head. “They can't help themselves; it's their nature as the Great Hunter. Your instructions will mean nothing to them once they are before Arrayah, they will simply hunt to the best of their ability until they win or is defeated.”
“That fits with what I've seen of them,” Gerlinde nodded her head with a smirk. “They're nice and cooperative as long as things are calm, but as soon as there's an enemy nearby they lose their mind.”
“Though perhaps oversimplified that may be an apt description,” the doll admitted. “Though you can at least take solace in that the Shopkeeper you summon is only the Moonborn Hunter, who you have already seen vanquished once. If the enemy is powerful enough, even the Moonborn Hunter may need more than one attempt to figure them out and slay them.”

Listening to it all, Torquil shrugged, uncharacteristically calm and indifferent about it all. “I'll do as I'm told, you know that. Just tell me what to do and when to do it.”
“There is a lot we could do,” Gerlinde admitted, idly examining the condition of her threaded cane. “If we went all out like you said – spent the hourglass, the darkbeast vial, the bolt paper, all that stuff – we could probably do some serious damage. But I felt how big the pull was when I looked at them in the birdbath; we'd probably have to kill a lot of things to get new ones if we fail, and Arrayah would just go munch on the other creatures of the Old Labyrinth to replenish her strength. We could also go do something else and come back later, that's completely fine with me, but we didn't actually even get to try to fight her yet. Who knows, she may turn out to be a pushover now that we can actually fight back.”
She let out a small giggle. “I say we go back one more time and see what damage we can do without spending everything we have on it. And I'd say stick with Fulmen, Torquil; that thing can go electric anytime, but we only have one strip of bolt paper. That way we also don't tip off Arrayah about everything we can do; she learns from fighting us, too, after all.”

_Farren

nodded once, then again after Gerlinde and Torquil’s replies. He glanced at Amaris as she replied as well, then away, eyes downcast, but not out of any particular emotion as he stowed the hourglass and the vial then rubbed at his beard with one hand thoughtfully.

“I agree with Gerlinde. One more try while we can actually perceive the thing is wise. Test our limits…and its. Then perhaps we follow another of the threads we’d begun to pull.”

He paused then, snapped his fingers once and grinned, “...perhaps we could deprive the White Church of their mine. Assist the Dancers…and broker an agreement between them and the Black Church,” he offered, looking Ophelia’s way. If they followed that path, it would mean a proper alliance with the Black Church and likely an easy supply of quicksilver bullets besides. Atop that boon, they’d likely gain some favor with the Fire Dancers, and given that he’d uncovered Fulmen by happenstance after an interaction with Moira…and then with Seven, Farren wondered if perhaps he’d worked with any other creed of hunters. He had, as far as he understood it, been ‘talent’ for hire. Surely the Healing Churches had been the only faction he’d worked under.

"Such is the way of the Moonborn Hunter, I suppose. It's alright; there is other quarry for us to loose you upon. This one... this one is mine." Ophelia replied to the Doll with a small grin, looking the Moonborn up and down. "It would be rather unfulfilling to not at least attempt to kill Arrayah again, you're right. Use whichever weapon you're most comfortable with, Torquil, I think--I'm happy to try and set things up for you to get some good swings off. Ah, and do keep the Loch Shield close; Arrayah will have some sort of... energy attack, I'm sure of it. Ahh, I must admit, I'm deeply covetous of Arrayah's rune... just think, we could waltz into the White Church and take whatever we needed... Assuming they have no protections against that sort of power, of course. And to see my blade made whole... such knowledge at our beck and call, such glory..." Ophelia commented, a faraway sort of look coming over her for a moment as she considered what they could use Arrayah's power for.

"I'm ready. Do we need to redistribute blood vials? Do you need more quicksilver bullets, Gerlinde? Remember that Gerlinde has some healing magic left in Snakey. Normally I think it's good that we split up, but we might want to try a closer formation this time? I really do think our best bet is letting Torquil get some good hits in! Speaking of... you haven't gotten a chance to use Fulmen properly yet, have you? Moonborn, is there something here Torquil could attack to get a feel for how the mechanism works? Maybe build up some charge in advance? I wonder if it'll persist when we travel through the chalice..."

“I have eleven bullets left, which should be plenty,” Gerlinde shrugged. “And yeah, I still have that bit from the lightbeast. I should probably get around to using it; if Arrayah does start throwing around arcane attacks...” But then Gerlinde stopped herself and her eyes suddenly widened as a fiendish grin spread across her face. “I could catch and store them... or I could do the same with one of your attacks, Ophelia. Ah, but that's for another time; Snakey can only hold one thing at a time, and it'd be a shame to waste such powerful healing.
As for vials...” Gerlinde checked her pouch. “I have three left.”
Torquil also checked his bag. “I have four, and this weird potion I don't know what does.” He pulled out a blue elixir and showed them. “It just showed up, like the paper.”

To Ophelia's last question, the Shopkeeper somewhat lowered their head and turned away. But the doll answered nevertheless: “The Shopkeeper wants to say that they cannot help with that, but I am at your service, good Hunter. As is my purpose, you may use me as you wish. I am but a doll, after all.”

"Ah, good idea! I'll try and let you know if I'm going to send a blast of energy for you to absorb--what a fun little tactic! Here, you're more liable to take hits than I am, and to survive them long enough to use blood vials." Ophelia nodded and fished two blood vials from her own pouch, then handed one to Gerlinde and another to Torquil.

"I... wouldn't like to strike you or see you struck, love. I know it wouldn't bother you, but... it would bother me. It's alright, I suppose--as long as you feel comfortable using it, Torquil, that's all that really matters. Ah, and if it comes to it, please kill me as painlessly as possible if you can at all help it. You did a marvellous job last time, Farren. Shall we?" Ophelia said to the Doll and then Torquil afterwards, giving everyone a quick look over to gauge their readiness before heading over to the chalice in preparation. She'd consider the battle a success if they got Arrayah to transform her blade--and was desperately curious to see what her blade's counterpart could do besides.

_Farren

frowned at the idea of harming Amaris, the look more like it physically pained him, rather than it merely bothering him. When Ophelia turned the possibility down, Farren relaxed slightly. “Twelve silver bullets, half that loaded. Still eight vials,” he supplied.

Farren hadn’t even glanced at his pouch, or touched it when he’d given the numbers. Clearly he had his supplies memorized as a matter of course. It didn’t even occur to him that it might be strange. Rather than reply to her final question he just nodded once. He bowed his head to the shop keeper and Amaris, then turned and followed Ophelia, ready to return to the Labyrinth.

"Arrayah will assume that her rune will still work, I think, so we have a rare opportunity. If we pretend not to notice her when she comes for me, we can try and knock the wind out of her and get some good damage in--but, I have to warn you about the smell. Mother Moon above, even remembering it makes my nostrils sting." Ophelia commented as they gathered around the chalice, wrinkling her nose at her last statement.

"I know what you mean," Gerlinde nodded her head in agreement. "I caught a whiff for a moment between being hit and losing consciousness. I'm up for trying, obviously, but... do you really think we'll all be able to pretend we don't notice that thing?" She shot a meaningful glance at Torquil in particular.

"I think in her frenzy to reclaim my half of the sword there's a chance she doesn't notice... but we don't need to be too convincing--just enough to get her close and to be able to strike first. I think it's a bit of a long shot, you're right, but... we won't get the opportunity again! Do you think you'll be okay, Torquil, dear?"

Torquil winced. "I'm not good at pretending, but I'll try if you want."

"Hmm... Give it your best shot. It's alright if you don't manage, dear, maybe just stand with me and by the time she's focused on me she won't notice the trap closing around her. If she does... well, we're still at an advantage compared to last time, aren't we?" Ophelia smiled, giving Torquil's shoulder what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

Torquil nodded his head, trying his best to express grim determination with his new inhuman features. "I'll try. You say go and I'll wallop her."

Farren nodded, “Vile thing. Smelled it, but little else.” He rolled his jaw briefly then spoke again, after Torquil had confirmed his intent this time. “Should be able to mostly mask my reaction while we close the net.”



And so the four Hunters returned to the Old Labyrinth with renewed powers, steeled determination and, perhaps most importantly of all, a plan. Once again they all had to endure the descent through what they could only surmise might be levels of the Nightmare or the Interstice before arriving back into the hallway they had arrived in on their first visit to this hallowed place. Nothing appeared to have changed there, and as soon as they had all gathered once again they proceeded toward the end of the hallway that opened up into Arrayah's chamber.
Even before reaching the opening itself all four of them would be able to tell a very obvious difference from their last visit, even though things seemed the same. As they got closer to the chamber ahead they started hearing – faintly at first, but more clearly with each step – the echoes of the mindless, frantic chanting that Ophelia in particular had had the chance to hear.
“Pthumerian,” the whispers – weak, distant and drowsy now that Ophelia was no longer wearing the Guidance Rune – volunteered to her. “She is chanting... 'A Hunter must hunt'... over and over... over and over... it consumes her... 'A Hunter must hunt'... a Hunter must hunt... a Hunter must hunt...”

Reaching the entrance to the chamber – as gargantuan as the first time they had seen it – they once again would find confirm that things were quite different than last time they had been here. This time all of them would very easily spot the huge and hideous visage of Arrayah about seventy meters away ahead of them and to their right, up against the outer wall. As she chanted her foreign words she just stood there, her hind body stretching out behind her with its multitude of limbs obscenely, while she fervently scratched at the wall with the tip of her sword. Over and over she stabbed the blade into the stone and dragged it downwards, carving a crude, mostly straight line that they could only guess from the other defacement of the wall was the beginning of yet another Hunter Rune.

The Hunters entered and, according to plan, started somewhat spreading out while doing their best to pretend not to notice their abominable opponent. As they did so Arrayah stopped trying to carve the wall and turned to face them... though for the moment she seemed weirdly dazed. Most of her many eyes were too small for them to see properly at this distance, particularly with the poor lighting, but the one big eye she had – currently dark – was obviously rolling wildly, looking everywhere and at nothing in particular in an apparent frenzy, while she just stood there, letting her arms hang down her sides as she chanted.
But then the eye abruptly froze and focused on Farren, and the once-dark iris lit up with what to Ophelia – and perhaps Farren as well, but in a different context – was a familiar azure glow, its vertical pupil contracting into a thin slit. Her chanting grew louder and more frenetic as her two unoccupied front-hands clenched into fists, her entire body appeared to tremble...
And with a horrible cacophony of clicking, thudding and slapping sounds, Arrayah rushed forward, carried by the lower appendages on her hind body. Despite her size and obvious deformity she moved shockingly fast, and she would arrive at Farren within just a handful of seconds, her sword raised high over her head and poised to strike.

_Farren

braced for it, but the strange sensation of moving without a form, and indeed, without a proper awareness of the movement itself–still struck him with a fierceness. When they arrived he didn’t stumble, but one hand went out as he ‘caught his balance’ despite being in a totally stable position. He followed the others, but had an odd realization that…without form or context, apparently a lot of normal experiences just…lost meaning entirely. Movement, chiefly, in this case. Walking down that hall, approaching the vast chamber in which he knew this Arrayah dwelled, he realized that he really only understood he was moving because of the points of feedback from his body and the sense of details shifting as he passed the different signs of wear and tear in the hallway.

How bizarre.

Farren shook himself and focused as they entered the room. Finally he beheld their adversary, but having only heard her described–and having briefly caught her foul odor when she’d beheaded him–Farren honestly wished he’d never seen her.

Her almost centipede, twisted form, misshapen head, and endlessly writhing asymmetrical rows of limbs just unsettled him to his core. Still, he just squared his jaw and moved to draw the Beastflayer from his back. However, Arrayah was faster and as she chose him as her target, Farren’s eyes widened–then narrowed in the next instant.

His hands blurred into two downwards sweeps and rather than draw Beastflayer, Farren snatched two blunderbusses from their hooks, levered them up in a shift of wood and metal, and then unloaded them, one after the other right as she grew near enough to catch their full spray.

With any luck, she’d stagger, much like he’d seen the others do a handful of times to other foes–though those had been far lesser in size and sheer presence.

His experience told Farren that Hunters could sometimes render their prey momentarily helpless by shooting them in a moment of high exertion, such as in the execution of an attack. This information was accurate as long as the target had the Old Blood and one used quicksilver bullets... which he did, and Arrayah most certainly was a product of the Old Blood. What Farren did not know was that particularly powerful creatures of the Old Blood were not as easily disrupted as their lesser brethren and could not so easily be “parried” as lowly beasts or Hunters. An ancient abomination such as the one they were up against now, who was clearly host to untold masses of blood echoes, would not be stopped by a mere well-timed quicksilver bullet.

But Farren did not just fire a quicksilver bullet, and he did not just hit her a little. Farren bode his time until the moment Arrayah was about to execute the swing of her sword, when every pellet of his firearm would hit her... and he fired not one, but two blunderbusses at her at point-blank range.
A horrible, inhuman screech emerged from the creature as she did indeed stagger, though with her sheer mass and momentum that did not involve her ceasing her advance. Arrayah veered off to Farren's right but kept barreling forward, half-dashing and half-tumbling forward until she slammed face-first into the outer wall of the chamber. The sheer force of the impact was enough to send palpable tremors through the floor, and the sound of the crash echoed loudly through the space.
And there she remained for a second, seemingly relatively inert.

The journey down was less disorienting for Ophelia on the second time, and her mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of what was to come that the loss of physical space as an anchor only gave her more time to focus. She stumbled terribly when they landed--falling to one knee as she'd not been trying to brace herself for it--and got up in short order with a determination that bordered on the fanatical. It was much different to be aware of Arrayah's distant presence and hear her frenzied chanting before being physically confronted with the immensity of her being, and the weak and drowsy whispers of her blessed blade elucidated the madness that must have coursed through her. She must've been down here for an exceptionally long time, and they'd seen what the Hunger rune had warped Irreverent Izzy into... Arrayah was all that and more, infinitely madder after an infinitely longer period of time... and with a wrathful presence to guide her descent. Ophelia shook herself from thinking about it: there would be time for those thoughts later. For now, there needed to only be the fight.

She did her best to simply look around, letting herself catch Arrayah only in her periphery to avoid suspicion, and at first did not notice the lack of the piercing blue gaze that had haunted her so terribly in her last moments here... but when her bigger eye focused, Ophelia most certainly noticed. Her pulse quickened, her body tensed, and she had to close her eyes for a brief second and exhale sharply through her nose. She clutched the Holy Moonlight Sword tight, and readied herself to dodge... only to find that Arrayah had gone for Farren, and not her. Farren's reactions were superlative, and he sprung to action with a murderous efficiency--Ophelia followed along closely, the time for her feigned inattentiveness over. When he went to parry Ophelia was already prepared, loading a quicksilver bullet into the Holy Moonlight Sword, and her gaze followed along with Arrayah as she went careening into the wall. "Now!" Ophelia said to Torquil, rushing forward into action and firing off a coruscating blast of energy towards Arrayah's humanoid upper half as she ran towards her. She did not quickstep, but kept herself ready to at an instant's notice--this was not about winning. They would only learn what Arrayah could do if they could survive long enough, and she would focus her efforts most keenly on avoiding Arrayah's retaliation once she recovered.

_Farren

couldn’t help but grin as the massive form of Arrayah slid into a new trajectory and tumbled thunderously away, but that was not to say that he took even a moment to revel in that small victory. Instead, as that trajectory had begun to change, the azure-eyed hunter had already dropped one blunderbuss into its hook, snatched up enough quicksilver for both firearms, and began to reload the other as he swiveled on the spot. His attention half followed the beast’s trajectory, both hands managing the mechanism of the gun as he braced himself, knees bending, and slotted the reloaded blunderbuss into place at his left hip.

Left hand darting from the hooked blunderbuss to the joined Effigial Blades at the same hip, Farren drew it from its place as he reloaded the second blunderbuss with his right hand, moving with dexterous ease. He dashed forth then, having estimated the beast’s end point, his body slashing forwards through the air in a long quickstep–or two–intent upon taking advantage of the staggered monstrosity.

It smelled vile, he tasted bile, swallowed it down, and as he exited his dash, Farren finished reloading his second blunderbuss and thus promptly dropped it into its place ‘pon his right hip, hooked and properly secure. His own fingers latched on the hilt of the True Blades of Mercy and he drew their united form in swift order, arming him with both Effigial and True Blades as he closed the final feet of distance.

He was in no position to perform a more brutal strike, and he’d a sense that his would be less effective besides, so he half climbed, half leapt atop the beast in a clambering run and then began to slash and tear into its grotesque mockery of a form, where humanoid torso met almost insectoid greater body, as if intent to rend the two halves apart.

Farren knew he couldn’t hope to do so, of course, surely Arrayah was still far too hale and whole not to regenerate from his strikes, but every frenzied slash was another chunk of vigor cut from its vessel, and he intended to cut away as much as he could.

Inevitably, when Arrayah began to stir, Farren would slam the joined Effigial Blades into their place at his left hip as his right hand plunged the True Blades of Mercy into the juncture between centipede and humanoid segments, then tear them into two parts at a rough angle, digging them deeper as he did, before leaping down and back from the plague-ridden Champion. As he was in that moment of descent, Farren braced himself for its strike, body ready to act as best as he could without tensing so much that a backhanded swipe or something similar might harm him more due to his own stiffness.

If his feet hit the ground before any such attack, Farren would immediately quickstep back as he drew the Beastflayer from his back and whipped out with it as he activated its mechanism, to extend it into a lashing farewell across Arrayah’s form.

As soon as the dual blast of Farren's blunderbusses, followed by Ophelia's arguably late and unnecessary command to initiate combat, all the Hunters started to move at once to assault their monstrous adversary. The first attack to hit would be the ranged blast from the Holy Moonlight Sword impacting Arrayah's torso, erupting into its usual burst of arcane energy... and barely leaving a scratch. Unlike previous engagements where its powers had been obviously destructive, even if the target regenerated the damage rapidly, with Arrayah it looked as though the damage was negligible, doing little more than lightly singing her skin.

Gerlinde started moving as soon as Farren fired his weapons, dashing swiftly toward the fiend while feeding her Horn of the Old Lords a quicksilver bullet and quickly applying its power to her threaded cane... only for her to blink confusedly, albeit not enough so to pause her charge. Whereas the other time the others had seen her apply the horn's fire they had been deep red, the flames that now sprung from her cane were bright bluish white instead.
Ignoring this for the time being since they had more urgent matters to contend with, Gerlinde transformed her weapon into its whip-form and immediately began her barrage, lashing wildly at Arrayah's torso... only to find, like Ophelia before her, that her weapon almost did not even leave a mark. The flames did not seem to burn it and the serrated blades seemed to fail spectacularly to do more than superficial damage. Even so she continued unabated, since they still had to fight and the cane was her only weapon besides her pistol. She was doing small bits of damage, just... not much.

Meanwhile a far more daring attack was being undertaken by Farren, who opted to get a better angle to strike by getting on top of Arrayah's hind body. The numerous mismatched appendages there did not seem to react to Farren at all, even when he touched or downright attacked her body, making it seem as though their movements were entirely random and mostly autonomous. Even so getting up on the body was immensely dangerous with so many weird limbs flailing about uncontrollably. And indeed, he paid a heavy price, as not only did he get kicked by a small hoof and clawed by a stray cat-like paw, but a somewhat humanoid eight-fingered hand even managed to incidentally nick him with an old one-handed falchion; not enough to cut deep, but enough draw blood and do a relatively small amount of damage.
But now that he had attained this questionable but potentially advantageous position, Farren had the opportunity to continue his assault with his two Blades of Mercy. Quite interestingly he would find that his two weapons performed very obviously differently against this creature; whereas the regular Blade of Mercy cut smoothly through Arrayah's flesh as one would expect them to, the Effigial Blade of Mercy seemed to struggle far more, as though its edge had blunted. Any momentum in his swing with the effigial weapon seemed to be halted as soon as it hit the creature's hide, and he would be able to tell that he needed a disproportionate amount of force to cut through her at all.

Finally Torquil arrived as the last of the Hunters, reacting slower than any of them, but nevertheless expending the stamina to to accelerate into a sprint that pushed well past the speeds his body would have been capable of when it had been human. He ran right up to what would have been Arrayah's right hip in terms of human anatomy, right against the wall, and as soon as he arrived put all of his own momentum into a two-handed swing with Fulmen. It hit hard and true into the hideous mutant's flesh, deforming it and jostling her with the blunt impact, so he felt encouraged and hit her again, his own body swelling with his Old Blood-enhanced strength.

But unfortunately the party did not have long before Arrayah did indeed begin to “stir”. It only took three seconds before the front-arms that had hung limply down her sides suddenly raised into the air, only for all three of them to slam forward and into the wall, with the left one digging its claws into the stone, the strong right one plunging the the Profane Abyssal Blade into it, and the thinner right arm simply clutching at it with its fingers as best as it could.
Farren dismounted with one last heavy bit of damage with the more effective of his Blades of Mercy, but by then it would already be evident that Arrayah was doing something very strange. Rather than push away from the wall she seemed to hug it intensely... only for the hind body to lift off the floor slightly – the weight of this ten meter long mass of flesh and limbs resting entirely on the front body anchoring into the wall – and curl away from them to Arrayah's left over the course of just a second.
Then, like the arm of a catapult releasing its tension, the hind body came shooting even faster back to the right, scything across a huge swath of the cave. Gerlinde tried to quickstep away, but she was too close; Arrayah's hind body was long enough and its swing fast enough that Gerlinde could only manage one quickstep, and that was not enough to get out of its range. It caught her and slammed her into the wall with another massive crash.
Torquil, who had been standing even closer and reacted much more slowly, predictably also did not manage to get away... though ironically his closer vicinity to Arrayah meant that he only got hit by the “base” of her hind body, which moved much slower and with less force than further out toward the tip. Consequently he got shoved and squished a little, but did not suffer anywhere near as much damage.

Farren, with just one quickstep, also would not escape and got hit by the full force of the attack.

_Farren

managed–barely–to reach the ground and even to begin a quickstep–before Arrayah’s bulk slammed into him from the side so fast that even if he’d had the proper rune to predict it, it would not have mattered in the least.

He’d been moving quickly already, but struck as hard as he’d been, it utterly canceled his backwards momentum and instead sent him hurtling into the wall with a sickening crunch and splatter. The only blessing was that his head didn’t strike first, of course that also meant that he experienced every micro-second of agony. Of course, on this night of the hunt, pain had become his bedfellow and though it was all-encompassing, Farren acted as his body dragged down to the floor. He couldn’t support his own weight immediately, not after such a blow, but his hand went to his blood vials and then stabbed one into his thigh. That had done enough damage to warrant it, he could quite literally feel it in his bones. Their creaking, the snap and squelch inside his body as they forced themselves back into the right positions and began to mend–just a bit slower than before.

He felt his jaw realign, his teeth regrow or shift back together and seal into their proper alignment, seams he couldn’t see disappearing as the enamel became whole again. He gagged, but didn’t retch–nothing in his stomach beyond bile–and Farren was glad for that at least. “Agh…” the sound of a pained exclamation rasped up his throat once it was no longer collapsed. He wrenched in air, and even that ached, his lungs mostly reformed, but not yet without bruises and damage.

The surge of healing from the vial sped up the process, but the healing hurt in its own frightfully ruinous manner. Muscles rapidly reknitting, bones snapping into place, crackling, their fibers growing into eachother and fusing, Shards of bone that couldn’t be salvaged shoving out through muscle and skin, bloody as they fell beneath and around him. Farren braced a hand on the wall and as his legs, hips, and back mostly aligned, he pushed to his feet with a groan.

The whole process took only a few seconds, but it felt far longer.

“Cursed beast,” he snarled, his voice hoarse and pained as he clutched at his stomach. He slowly moved his head–eyes much faster for they’d already fully mended–and found the beastflayer nearby. He bent down with a wince and snatched it up. By the time he rose he was mostly hale and whole again, and rapidly getting there. He regarded Gerlinde as she’d approached and nodded once. Arrayah seemed…resistant to non-physical damage, but he figured the beastflayer was plenty solid. So he fed the Horn of the Old Lords some quicksilver, and offered up his weapon.

It burst into flames, fortunately not in a way that touched his skin, though he felt the lick of its nearby heat against his skin and through his hunter’s garb.

Farren took in a breath, cocked his arm back, focusing his strength, and then whipped the beast flayer out, releasing it into its whip-blade form. He’d done something he’d seen Torquil manage a number of times now: a strong attack.

Ophelia's distance from Arrayah meant that the huntress was not hit by the frightening speed of her retaliation, and her mind whirred at the revelation that their blade-blessed foe was apparently resistant to their energy-based attacks. That certainly put them at a tremendous disadvantage: between Gerlinde having worked the blood gem into her weapon to render it more arcane and Ophelia's own very-obviously arcane blade that was half of their team suddenly struggling to inflict proper damage. She made an executive decision in that moment and withdrew the Moonborn Hunter's bell, giving it a quick and decisive ring.

They were here to collect information, and the Moonborn Hunter had tremendous insights. If the fight were anything like the one with Paarl their ally would not be able to slaughter Arrayah and would simply help them work out what precisely it was they were dealing with. She wanted to do the fighting herself, it was true, but this did not even count as a credible attempt in her mind: this was them utilising the advantages they had as immortals. Learn, adapt, overcome--a little flame flickered in Ophelia at the idea of overcoming this obstacle in particular. Not just for the fabulous reward, for the sense of completion and wholeness, but to murder with her own hands the first being that had forced her to submit to death. To cut herself off from her guiding moonlight even to perceive her... these things pricked at a sense of hubris that had ebbed and flowed within her on this long night. In this moment, she chose to draw upon it and its well of resolve, to choose efficiency and foresight over the gurgling and churning fire lurking within her blood.

Arrayah straightened her hind body back out into its neutral position behind her after smashing Torquil, Gerlinde and Farren into the wall, but kept pressing her three front arms into the wall to try to push herself backward. With some groaning and cracking of stone, the abomination pulled herself from the wall – an imprint of her body and head left smashed into the rock itself – and she turned her head to the right, toward the Hunters. All of her eyes were moving, rolling around wildly without looking at anything in particular; even the big, glowing eye that had previously focused on Farren seemed to have resumed erratically shifting everywhere. But over the course of a couple of seconds that chaotic shifting was interrupted only four times: once when the big eye paused to stare at Torquil, then once at Gerlinde, then Farren, only for the eye to finally cease its rolling and concentrate its attention at Ophelia.

Torquil was both the one closest to Arrayah, the one least injured by her strange attack and the first one to recover, so by the time their enemy had identified all of its attackers he was already back at her “hip” and slamming her with Fulmen again. As he struck this time there was a small pulse of electric sparks at the point of impact, and as the hammer was pulled back there briefly was a faint scorch-mark on the flesh before it regenerated.
He was just winding up for another strike when Arrayah's thinner right arm swung down and out to her side and effectively backhanded Torquil across the face with a fist that was slightly bigger than his head. The sheer force of the blow sent him reeling and staggering several meters away, but he was quite surprised to find that the pain and damage did not seem quite as bad as he would have expected from being hit that hard.

About at that time Gerlinde – looking over and seeing Farren use a blood vial – also used one on herself, and decided to hand over her Horn of the Old Lords to Farren for the moment. As soon as she had done that she retreated to a distance, but looked back to see Farren wreathe the head of his threaded glaive in flame before transforming it and lashing at Arrayah. Just like the true Blade of Mercy, the beastflayer seemed to cut Arrayah's hide and flesh with little issue, on top of which the flames, even at a brief contact, seemed to surprisingly also leave the surface singed before it regenerated.
Nodding to herself, Gerlinde glanced down at the bluish-white flames surrounding her own arcane-infused threaded cane and smiled, happy to have confirmed her suspicion: these flames were not truly “fire” so much as they were a flame-like manifestation of the arcane. The red flames that now burned on Farren's weapon were real fire, and seemed capable of hurting their target. It was still enormously inconvenient that her primary weapon was rendered mostly useless against this opponent as long as the arcane blood gem was embedded in it, but at least it brought her a little closer to understanding.

While Ophelia rang the Moonborn Bell and the Moonborn Hunter ascended from the floor, Arrayah dislodged the Profane Abyssal Sword and the claws of her left hand from the wall, fully freeing herself as she turned around. And for just a couple of seconds Arrayah seemed to just stare at Ophelia as if in a daze, while her deformed maw awkwardly uttered: “O-phe-li-a...”
The Moonborn seized this chance to rush in and initiate their own assault. As they ran a bluish flash announced their summoning of a weapon, which this time turned out to be a whirligig saw, the saw-blade of which started revving a couple of steps before they reached their target. They swung the bizarre polearm in a huge vertical arc from above and down into Arrayah's chest and stomach. But similarly to how Farren had found that his Effigial Blade of Mercy struggled to cut the beast, the Moonborn's spinning saw-blade seemed to mostly deflect and skip over the exterior of her skin, doing very little damage.
Arrayah struck out vengefully with her sword, clearly aiming to behead the Moonborn, but they quickstepped backward and away just in time to evade the attack. They cocked their head and dismissed the whirligig saw.

_Farren

winced as Torquil was backhanded, though the man appeared to recover quickly. Glancing over as the Horn of Old Lords was nudged against his arm following his attack, Farren nodded once, whipped the Beastflayer back into its polearm form and then accepted the Horn with one hand and found a place to hook it at his hip.

He didn’t really have much time to consider Gerlinde’s gesture before the distinct sound of the Moonborn Bell rang out. Farren’s gaze whipped to its origin: Ophelia. He grimaced, set his jaw, and reeled back the Beastflayer with both hands and lashed out at the beast again as he watched the Moonborn Hunter carry out his assault.

Much like the other arcane implements they’d attempted, it seemed that the Shopkeeper’s effigial weapons had a drastically reduced effect against their foe.

Farren moved–before the Moonburn Hunter was almost struck, running laterally and backwards as he retracted his weapon into its glaive form again. He was moving towards a spot about halfway between Ophelia’s position and the Moonburn Hunter’s position where the Host of the Hunter’s Dream was attempting his assault with an effigial Whirligig Saw. Farren watched as the hunter withdrew and was nearly struck, quickstepping at the last moment to avoid the blow. Damn if they weren’t fast he didn’t know what was.

The moment Lhirin knew where the Moonborn Hunter’s new position outside of Arrayah’s range was, he quickstepped to cover the remaining distance. Mid-quickstep Farren drew Bulwark with his left hand and as he arrived at the Shopkeeper’s side he offered him the implement. It was one he could do without if the Shopkeeper died and took it with him as part of that process.

Once the Moonborn Hunter hopefully accepted the weapon, Farren sped back into motion, circling around Arrayah so he could approach from a new angle, forcing her to split her attention.