[color=#007FFF][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]		    felt the contact of his blade hitting its mark, but it did little, and it seemed Arrayah had enough of her wits about her to avoid Ophelia’s arcane moonlight. Grimacing, Farren began to withdraw the weapon–and had just managed to finish doing so–when he noticed Arrayah reorienting her weapon. A flash of dread went through his veins, but there was no time to act, or process. He caught sight of the Moonborn’s quickstep, and did much the same himself, moving away at speed, but it didn’t matter. Swiftly joining the dread and old blood coursing through him, searing sensations struck as shadowy projections of the Abyssal Blade slipped up from the earth and pierced him. A sound, half guttural scream, half fearsome growl erupted from his throat even as the shadows slid through his flesh and then out the other side, leaving him proliferated with shade-filled holes. Perhaps three, perhaps five, of the projections had impaled him, and at a sharp enough angle that they briefly lifted him before he began to slide down their hafts. Fierce, grinding, aching agony crashed over him in a constant flux of horrific feeling.

[color=#007FFF][b]“Ffffuuuck!”[/b][/color] he cried out hoarsely, breath stolen as one lung collapsed completely. None of the blades hit his heart, but one had gotten close. He felt his body working in overdrive to attempt to heal itself, but the cause of the damage remained, impeding the process. Not to mention that they kept sending intense, mind wracking agony through his entire body. Farren’s azure eyes flashed with intense emotion, wide from pain, then narrowed as he gritted his teeth and bore the pain.

When the blades finally retracted–or dissipated–he would be like a puppet with its strings cut. There was no catching oneself with such grievous damage having been inflicted. It was fortunate that his reserves had been essentially full, but the wounds would likely have them dwindling. The moment he could, Farren would slam a blood vial into his thigh with his free hand. Miraculously, his weapons remained by-and-large unscathed, aside from a few clean scratches. Ah…and it seemed one of the hunter’s pistols at his lower back had some damage along and through the grip. Farren growled as muscles and bones snapped into place or regrew entirely. His clothes were partially shredded, but he was decent enough, if covered in blood and gore as unhealable aspects sloughed off in favor of regrowing new parts.

The moment Farren could reasonably move, even if pained, he’d push to his feet swiftly and retreat to make some distance between him and the horror they faced. If anyone else had similar ideas, he made sure not to be too closely packed, finding that them having been relatively close together had only made it easier for her to get almost all of them.

Rather than rush back into the fray, Farren would began to pace in a steady counter-clockwise motion to find a new position, forcing Arrayah to split her attention further. He was moving roughly towards Ophelia, though she was a bit further out than him. Either way he was firmly out of Arrayah's current range, in terms of the Area attack she’d just dealt them.