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

The decision to return to the Witch's Abode was one that Ophelia had understandably mixed feelings about. As they awakened there she was not sure what she would see--but it was immediately clear that this place was a far cry from the home she remembered. The passage of time and Hemwick's transformation after the Blood Moon had wiped away all that had been familiar, and even that had been abandoned. Whatever sentimentality she felt about it drained from her like blood had been drained from so many corpses in that place as it became abundantly clear that the home she knew now existed only in her memories. She shed a couple of tears thinking about it that she quickly and unceremoniously wiped away before continuing to lead the others outside and down paths that, for a small mercy, were more or less close enough to how she remembered them that her sense of navigation did not fail her.

When they began to travel into the woods, however, the hairs on the nape of Ophelia's neck stood on end and something in her instincts began to protest, her eyes narrowed and searched the murk and gloom for the source and what she laid eyes upon shocked her: someone with a mischievous smirk, almost... waiting? Ophelia quickly prepared herself mentally for some sort of combat to break out, wondering if the figure had noticed her at all owing to Deception-effect she was under, before she raised her free hand to stop the others if they hadn't already.

[i]"Is this really her, Nayra? Not... some image, or... I doubt any such trickery would work on us, but..."[/i] Ophelia asked, her apprehension and curiosity each fighting for dominance.

"[I]Nayra? Uncertain... but there is something there,[/I]" the voice reported. "[I]Beware of that creature, Champion; though its nature is difficult to ascertain, it is powerful.[/I]"

[i]"Can you tell if it has a particular weakness or resistance? Will the voltaic blade be sufficient if things come to blows, or is there another form I should invoke?"[/i]

"[I]That cannot be discerned from afar, but it should be obvious after you have struck it.[/I]"

"This is Nayra, or... something bearing her image. My blade warns me that whatever it is, it is powerful; ready yourselves for combat." Ophelia spoke wordlessly into the minds of her companions, waiting for them to get ready before she interacted with the creature. Her free hand instinctively went to the tube of recently replenished quicksilver at her hip and popped the cap, ready for action. It could not be an illusion--Ophelia's own protection from her weapon and the Mask rune's effect on the others would surely prevent such a thing from deceiving them. Perhaps it was a sentry of some kind, a precaution Nayra had managed to leave her should anyone seek to approach the Great Serpent?

[i]"Can you tell if it has a particular weakness or resistance? Will the voltaic blade be sufficient if things come to blows, or is there another form I should invoke?"[/i]

"[I]That cannot be discerned from afar, but it should be obvious after you have struck it.[/I]"

She took a swift breath in, and when the others had readied themselves appropriately Ophelia figured it would be best to at least attempt diplomacy in the first instance.

"Nayra? Is that you?"

The blindfolded woman cocked her head and her smile widened as she lowered her hands. "Remarkable. I suppose I should have expected you to be able to see me. Yes, I am Nayra, and you are Paleblood Hunters. We meet at last."

"I don't know that I'd say at last, love, seeing as we've met before. Though I was but an apprentice before, now I am the last Witch of Hemwick... it's been some time, hasn't it? We've both changed." Ophelia replied, the slightest hint of wariness in her voice but with a wistful smile on her face.

"Met before?" Nayra cupped her chin in her hand in thought. "Witch of Hemwick? Trivialities. Although..." She turned to Gerlinde. "Hello, Gerlinde. I do remember you."
"Hi Nayra," Gerlinde greeted the figure, her smile unperturbed but a nervous edge in her voice.
Nayra's smile returned. "I suppose you were involved with breaking our darkbeast and stealing our lightbeast, then?"

"Paarl did not provide a particularly warm welcome after I came all that way to see my old acquaintance, and needed to be taught some manners. I do not think I can confess to stealing anything, though, dear--only liberating. We find ourselves in very interesting positions in this new world, don't we?" Ophelia replied, the wariness melting from her voice. Her heart still fluttered and she could feel the nascent stirrings of nausea beginning to roil within her, but she no longer felt the need to be wary: only prepared.

The woman turned back to Ophelia. "You... speak so very trivially, I struggle to even hear your words. None of that matters, though; we already captured the lightbeast and reconstructed the darkbeast once. But never mind that. You were just in Castle Cainhurst. Tell me: were you responsible for sending the knights to steal our darkbeast, too?"

"If you do not want trivial answers, perhaps you should not ask trivial questions. I don't imagine anyone but their queen can give the forces of Cainhurst orders, hmm?" Ophelia retorted.

"Indeed, but the queen did not know we had her beast. Someone had to tell her. Someone who encountered it." She turned to the side and started slowly pacing back and forth. "But you are correct that the question is trivial since the answer is obvious. Thus I will skip to the part where I thank you for your contribution to our cause." Her lips parted in a sleek grin. "The knights made excellent sacrifices for our ritual."

"I did as I have done many times before, and traded knowledge for knowledge. Cainhurst's library is quite extensive, you know? I never took you for a fool, Nayra, but to beckon some unknowable thing from the cosmos that will be the doom of everything we know and understand... do you wish for oblivion so badly, truly? I struggle to imagine you a mindless thrall to it, so... what is it that you want, that you expect to achieve? We can drop this pretense and speak directly and honestly, if you like. It would be much easier, less... trivial."

"I just want to reunite with my lord," Nayra mused, seemingly unaffected by Ophelia's attempts to goad her. "Meeting him just the once is not enough, I [I]must[/I] meet him again. Nothing else matters." She pointed a slender finger at Ophelia. "To that end... would you not donate that delicious relic of yours? It is the reason I came all the way out here, after all. That sword radiates such power. It belongs with the Followers."

Ophelia's look turned to earnest disappointment at Nayra's words, that she had fallen so deep into madness--and the kind that precluded sense. It was perfectly possible to be terribly mad and still be on the side of sense--Gerlinde was a perfect example... but this? Putting her down was the only option if they wished to save their world.

"Be ready to fight." Ophelia wordlessly spoke to her companions as she mused for a moment, quite certain a fight was about to break out, before she gave Nayra a pitying smile and shook her head.

"You are desperately unworthy of it, dear. But there is something I could give you instead: access to all the worlds of Nightmare, and life everlasting. A means to meet your lord without beckoning him here."

Unperturbed, Nayra simply stopped pacing, raised her hands and wordlessly removed her blindfold before turning to the Hunters again.

Vigilant as ever, Farren had followed his companion, the one woman whom he thought of perhaps as something of a friend, and most certainly an equal leader of their little band. They'd encountered no real resistance upon the path and it, admittedly, had only made him suspicious. Thus, properly wary, when Farren caught sight of the figure standing with a devilish little smirk, fingers steepled, eyes blindfolded, Farren didn't hesitate. Though he did not charge, the azure-eyed hunter pulled forth his two paired Blades of Mercy, one Effigial, the other Truer in its nature. For, Farren was a man who had once been forced to traverse the city's environs under the fell light of the moon during Nights of the Hunt which had come before. He was well familiar with the fact that even the familiar and comforting could swiftly--and often did--become alien and violent during such times. So, for him, even had he recognized Nayra--which he most certainly did not--drawing his weapons seemed prudent.

As the exchange between Ophelia and the blindfolded woman progressed, Farren became increasing sure that his assessment was correct and in mere minutes, was proven entirely correct. Merely gritting his teeth briefly when Ophelia's voice warned him silently of the threat he'd already felt was obvious, Farren shifted his grip and slid one foot backwards to narrow his profile in the same moment that Nayra raised her hands and shed her blindfold.

However, before her eyes came fully into view, a dangerous possibility struck Farren's mind: What if her gaze might inflict upon them some fell fate. After all, the Winter Lanterns had.... So, as Nayra's eyes began to come into view and he found that they matched those that Ophelia had gained from the Chalice, Farren moved.

Shifting into a mad dash forth, Farren sought to close the distance between the obstacle which Nayra presented, and their party, a feverish, glowing violence in his distinctive azure eyes.

As Nayra undid her blindfold Ophelia broadcast an unspoken instruction to the rest of the party to not look into her eyes. All of them immediately took this warning to heart, with Ophelia directing her attention to Nayra's legs while Farren, without holding his charge, focused on her center of mass. Torquil and Gerlinde both started drawing their weapons, with Gerlinde looking at the leader of the Followers' feet and Torquil's eyes shifting all over the place in a wild panic, all while he had to fight the urge to look where he had been told not to look.

Then the blindfold fell, and Nayra's bizarre eyes were unveiled. Torquil was the first to fail, immediately looking straight into them, upon which he immediately faded away as he had so many times before. Everyone else had a heartbeat longer due to their evasive efforts... but ultimately those churning galaxies amid the void in Nayra's eyes were still within their field of vision, even if they were not looking directly at them.

Ophelia and Farren found their attention locked by Nayra's inhuman gaze, and their eyes were inexorably drawn to hers. And just as it had happened in the memory Ophelia had experienced, they felt themselves pulled into them, surrounded by them and consumed by them. They were lost among infinity, falling into those churning galaxies, until the swirl of innumerable stars itself seemed to open like a maw.
And just like that, Ophelia, Farren and Gerlinde awakened back in the Hunter's Dream.

[color=Silver]Ophelia, Farren, Gerlinde and Torquil have obtained the Oblivion Rune. When branded into the mind, this rune afflicts you with the Eyes of Obcasus, making it so that you devour the minds of any who meet your gaze.[/color]

Reappearing in the Dream, Ophelia immediately set to the task of kneeling and beckoning the little ones, showing them the rune they'd just received to gain their ever-useful insight:

[QUOTE=Messenger scroll on the Oblivion Rune]Oblivion
Replaces its wearers eyes with churning windows into what appears to be the Cosmos, which will devour the minds of any who look at them.
Many Great Ones of the Cosmos are older than the world itself, and among those Obcasus is among the oldest. It is a mindless creature that desires nothing but to sleep eternally in the void, and whose dreams give shape to entire realities.
Gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back.[/QUOTE]

"Well... that was extremely unpleasant. None of our protections worked..." Ophelia commented as she stood up, grimly brushing herself off.

"So... we have to find a way to neutralise her or take her by surprise, or find some manner of protection that does work. Do you think she'll still be there if we go back? We are running out of time... I see now why Harold entreated us so: we are among the few they cannot sacrifice for their ritual. Moonborn, might one of your aspects be immune to this power of the abyss?" Ophelia asked, relaying what had happened and the contents of the messengers' scroll.