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

Ophelia scarcely had time to be impressed at the ludicrous shot Farren had made, given that she'd just finished ringing the bell to try and summon the Moonborn Hunter once more. Their familiar form began to step through into this world, and Ophelia sighed a quick breath of relief that the Moonborn could be summoned multiple times. A part of her lusted for the strength of echoes Arrayah would surely wield, but that was a distant and dim secondary to the prospect of her true prize: but it was an observation worth noting, so she did. She also wondered whether Farren could shoot [i]her[/i] quicksilver bullets--being half-Cainhurst by birth and having drank of Queen Annalise's blood, she reckoned the bullets she made would be rather powerful indeed. She scarcely understood this particular aspect of Hunting, however, and had not the time to put such a plan into motion now.

Ophelia withdrew another blood vial and readied herself to quickstep, not wanting to get involved with Arrayah in melee if she could help it but being prepared to rush in and administer healing to Farren if he needed it. She would not launch herself into imminent danger without another means of immediately saving herself, however, so much of what she was willing to risk would be determined by what happened after the proverbial and literal dust settled--to say nothing of the deepened darkness constricting her vision. Thankfully even with the Mask rune the glow of her blade was enough for just her, as though she were drawing down a shaft of Mother Moon's light into this dank and dismal cavern even now.