Tuujaimaa

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia observed the goings-on with keen interest, noting that her passivity had caused Arrayah's eyes to not glow and focus on her or Gerlinde (who had kneeled down to do something with the little ones--handing off her modified cane). She wondered if either of them began to attack Arrayah, would it cause the eyes to focus on them too? Could the focus be removed somehow? She had many and more questions about how a thing like Arrayah might make decisions, but also how her blessed blade's counterpart did too. Mad as she was, and deeply obsessed, she would no doubt listen to the whispers and follow them... but her blade was full of wrath. Perhaps it was telling her who to strike down? Perhaps that was the glow and the focus at work.

Ophelia judged Torquil the more wounded of the two, and began sprinting towards him as he was picked up (and thus simply towards Arrayah) before veering off in the direction he was to be thrown as soon as she could intuit it. She had a blood vial at the ready and would use it on him if he seemed injured upon arrival. She also wanted to see if any other eyes might focus upon her once she presented as participating in the fight again, or if the focused eyes happened to catch sight of her blade.

"Fulmen hit the ground, so add one to your count." she whispered to him, too, making sure he factored that in. Fulmen did not care about what it hit to build charge, only that it did--and what it had done to the ground made Ophelia quite sure that letting it get to ten charges would be catastrophically bad. Not quite Paarl-bad, she supposed, but even his most minor electric shocks were things she could still feel sing in her nerves. She did not want to experience anything more potent.

The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny

Deo’Irah

So it was that the three men had made their respective choices, and as Freagon went to finish off the bandit Irah concentrated on what had happened to Bren: unfortunate, but always a possibility. Fortunately, they had a means of immediate and efficacious healing on hand and the true deigan healer sprung immediately into action even as Bren was still being stabbed in the neck by the jerky motions of the knife. She withdrew the divine healing potion from within her robe and moved shockingly quickly–understanding well the urgency–and moved towards the now-prone body of Bren as he hit the floor. By this time she’d already uncorked the bottle and assessed the damage quickly.

His throat hadn’t quite been torn open, exactly, but one would be forgiven for believing so–jerky and jagged cuts left openings for dark arterial blood to flow forth as though from a fountain, and Irah administered two droplets of the potion, reckoning it would be enough to close the wound and ensure he was in no danger of actually perishing. He’d still feel the effects of the blood loss, of course, but that was better remedied by an alchemical healing potion: knowing nothing about his resistance to the taint, she did not want to risk him accumulating any more than he already had… and promptly moved away as soon as she was done ensuring that he would live.

“Messier than I’d have liked, but… effective. Feel free to kill them immediately next time.” Irah spoke, her tone utterly unbothered and practical. She had seen much, much worse than this and was eminently practical when it came to saving lives. She supposed how preachy she’d been until this point could’ve given Freagon plenty of doubt, but hopefully this display of efficiency would teach Freagon that while Irah would do nearly anything to stave off death, she had no qualms with suffering or injury. Those things could be remedied: death could not. Hurting Bren was a perfectly logical and reasonable thing to do in her mind, given that a healer was on hand to remedy whatever mistakes were made.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia observed the battle proceeding apace, having picked up by now that it was indeed specifically the Arcane that Arrayah seemed to have a resistance to. She was mostly useless--even if she just used her blade as a physical weapon, it would be like hitting a giant with a butter knife. None of the other weapons she'd stowed with the little ones--the Rosmarinus and Kos Parasite--seemed like they would do anything either, primarily being of the Arcane variety as they were. Farren had definitely picked up on it too, having handed the Shopkeeper a physical weapon rather than one of their own effigial weapons which seemed to be fundamentally Arcane too (based on how little damage it did to Arrayah compared to the Beastflayer). The blood gem Gerlinde had worked into her weapon rendered it much less effective too--and even the flames from her Horn of the Old Lords seemed to be infused with that energy.

Torquil was doing very well, though, she could tell: taking good opportunistic hits when he could, building charge within Fulmen. 5 hits so far. 10 was the absolute maximum--she reckoned he should probably unleash it around 8. Maybe 9... get some real testing in. Ophelia was not under the impression that Arrayah was truly injured yet, more... surprised by the ferocity of the assault, given how easily she must slaughter most of her prey. How easily she slaughtered them all the last time they were here. The distance gave Ophelia some reprieve from the smell, too, and while she stared and pondered intently she only retched once or twice as a particularly pungent waft of sickening aroma flowed over her.

"Four more hits, Torquil, I'll tell you when to discharge! She seems resistant to the Arcane specifically!" She called out, beginning to circle around Arrayah while keeping her distance relatively the same (or perhaps increasing how far away from their foe she was a little) to give herself plenty of berth to avoid Arrayah's attacks. She was frighteningly quick, based on the two real attacks they'd seen so far, and distance really was the best chance of actually avoiding anything. The next time they were here she'd need a physical weapon--and preferably one that had some decent range to it. Perhaps Farren and the Shopkeeper could advise her of something when they returned to the Dream. She withdrew a blood vial and kept it in her hand, ready to dash in and administer it to one of her allies if they should need it. She could at least watch out for them that way.

The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny

Deo’Irah

Irah found the process of walking along with the others while they mowed the bandits down… unfulfilling. Distasteful. Against her vows and her sensibilities… and yet she could not bring herself to care enough to revive these callous fools, or even consider it. Truthfully, the amount of taint that she’d exposed herself to already was dangerous. She would suffer for it later, though a part of her exulted even in that–but even she recognised that she’d gone too far in her zeal… but there was nothing for it now. Bren would overcome the trial he'd been unwittingly subjected to or he wouldn't, and that was that. Perhaps she'd be able to whip something up to stave off the nightmares that inevitably followed... or perhaps Bren would. He was currently the least of her concerns, though, in any direct sort of sense: it was his captor that demanded Irah's attention.

“Please surrender. I swear on blessed Reina’s name that you will be offered succour.” Irah began, her crimson-red eyes looking plaintively up at this hulk and brute of a man, her porcelain-like features contorted into a grimace of concern and regret and woe. She even made her eyes just begin to well up with tears, and forced the lightest hint of a warble into her voice. “What’s done is done, and we can only choose what happens next. Please let him go. If you don’t, there will only be more death.” she pleaded, clasping her hands together as she tried to leverage any pity or tenderness that might remain behind the brute’s rough exterior. All of this was quite contrary to her true thoughts, however, which was that he should be cut down like the rest and whatever damage happened to be inflicted upon Bren could be immediately remedied. Not an ounce of pity or compassion remained in her for these fools, and she cared only about ending this as quickly as possible so that they could be done.

She saw Lhirin’s gestures–able to make out most of them, enough to intuit the gist of what he wanted to communicate, but she did not respond to him. She wanted the bandit’s focus to be on her and any suspicious movements would be met with intense scrutiny and backlash–she simply looked up at him, worked as many of her wiles as she could, and hoped it would be enough. Ultimately this was his decision: accept mercy, or forswear it and invite malice.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

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.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

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.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"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.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"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..."

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"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.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"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."