Tuujaimaa

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Bountiful as her supply was, Ophelia did not take even the brief instant necessary to evaluate whether she should use another quicksilver bullet--she simply retrieved the tube, loaded a globule into her weapon, and performed the same attack she had previously simply through as much of Arrayah's mass as possible. This time she would keep the blade there instead of withdrawing it immediately, however, waiting to see what the natural length of the effect was and if she had any control over it. With how Arrayah's wounds were knitting she figured there couldn't be too much longer to go (especially given how much of that damage was self-inflicted). She did not bother to quickstep out any further, with her and Farren almost having changed places and now being within a quickstep's distance of one another and Arrayah simulataneously. It seemed as though if they simply kept these powerful attacks up for long enough they would win, and Farren seemed to be taking leadership quite well: she would provide support until Farren worked up an opening that they could both exploit, or until something happened that appeared to threaten her.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

It was clear to Ophelia in the moment of Arrayah's movement that she had let herself get a little too awestruck, and had not noticed when her last foot left the ground and simply had not returned. It was something of a rude awakening, a very real and rapidly approaching outcome that involved her body being quite horribly dismembered by what remained of Arrayah, and as the monstrosity practically vanished across the floor even her new Hunter's insincts balked and she realised she was not quick enough. She initiated the quickstep too late to avoid getting struck by the blow, though quickly enough that she rapidly retreated in Farren's direction and began to hurriedly administer a blood vial--she did not get the feeling that she would survive a second attack, and Farren still had the darkbeast's blood flowing through him... if Arrayah followed up into the two of them Ophelia would quite possibly get hit again--but Farren would also get another chance to strike, which might in turn offer Ophelia another moment of opportunity to act in.

It was clear to her that there was no more time for edging around their goal: now it was simply a matter of exterminating the beast before she did as much to them. Several thoughts buzzed around her head, though her awareness was now too submersed in her body to process them before the next thing happened--she could only wait for everything to catch up before she could decide what to react to next.

The Prophecy - Dreams of Destiny

Deo’Irah

Much of Irah’s remaining time before they were called to dinner went to maintenance of the baths in order to ensure that everyone would have a chance to clean themselves up before dinner, and the small gaps of time she was afforded were used to put on her eveningwear, move her coach and ox somewhere more suitable with Jordan taking the lead on such an initiative already, and fetch from her coach a couple of extra bits: namely a weighty and cumbersome tome–which was really a binding containing many individual sets of notes stitched together–that did not leave her side and a handful of extra discs of pressed and processed tea leaves. Irah chose to sit near Madara and motioned for Lhirin to follow suit if he wished, as there was a matter of potential business and mutual professional interest that might be fruitful if they wished to discuss it, and listened on intently as her fingers unconsciously traced through the mixed leaves of the tome as Vela proffered the reward she’d mentioned. Irah made the quick mental calculation that between a hundred rodlin of their individual contributions 75 or so of that had already been spent on the vial of piaan that Lhirin had used and the rest on healing potions freely offered… which left their current reward of 125 rodlin each from the bounty and another 125 each for the next bout… her arithmetic was interrupted by a brief pang of nausea and a momentary rush of dizziness, but it had gotten as far as it needed to. She took notice of and returned the Baroness’ glance, only quipping back once she’d finished speaking.

“Peace within often requires peace without, especially for a vampire. This one has made his choices clear, and so ours become clear in turn.” she offered with a quick smile before her focus was returned to the collection of papers in front of her. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Madara carried with her chemical preparations of the medicinal sort, and that she might well want to stock up on some choice goods if they did intend to travel together. Irah never really kept too much track of the injuries she and Lhirin sustained about the road–most things could be ameliorated with very simple potioncraft and their own combined anatomical knowledge, but if she suddenly had to start being worried about a number of active melee combatants… well, it would do them good to have a minimum number of supplies ready and a plan to acquire more acutely needed things as necessary. To that end she and Madara and Jordan (or more likely both him and his master, given recent experiences of his exacting nature) would need to discuss how they meant to manage the logistics of moving their combined goods.

“If we’re to look after this lot, I thought it prudent we discuss what you and I have and what we’ll need more of. It could be some time before Bren awakens, so I will be happy to set up and take over his alchemical duties in the interim if the townsfolk have need and can work on stocking up if not… moving with a group this size I reckon getting a medicine chest together is eminently sensible.” Irah spoke to Madara, not making a particular effort to hide or raise her voice. She seemed to be thumbing through her works and making notes to particular pages as she did, simultaneously moving herself and things on the table so as to let the Manor’s staff fill the tables. She immediately went for the bowl of roasted nuts, nudging Lhirin and prompting him to place one in her mouth. He would no doubt recognise the glance and head tilt as the opening for something she had performed for him many times, universally recognisable as the “hands are full and I’m reading, feed me” gesture. She savoured the salty roasted flavour for only a moment as another soft ripple of nausea overcame her, and the space they left behind filled with a dull ache that would worsen before it got better–her penance for her recklessness. She found within the pain a dark satisfaction, of having taken on the sins of the world for her flesh to purify. Mercy to those who deserved it, and malice to the same–there would be plenty of time to question the surviving crusaders and look into the mystery that had been left to them… wouldn’t there? She supposed Lady Bor hadn’t given them a time frame.

“Supposing we accept, when would we be starting?” she asked, having to consciously avoid glancing over towards Freagon.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia internally cursed as the attack she launched proved ineffective yet again, though that part of her immediately fell into silence as the completed blade communed with her again. Of course, she thought, that makes sense. The Nightmare here was so thick it was almost suffocating, and Arrayah had been down here for countless ages--of course her bestial form had grown inured to it and all things born of it. She grinned to herself as the blade revealed a new mode of its power to her unbidden, and without even thinking about it she followed the instructions as soon as they were given--two more quicksilver bullets were fed into the blade as her right hand manipulated the tube, and her voice spoke out with piercing clarity: "Evoke Archspark."

She was not sure precisely what would happen, of course, but it sounded as though it were some sort of offensive blast: so in the same motion that that withdrew the blade from the ground with her left hand and fed it with the right, she pointed the blade directly at Arrayah's center mass as she completed the incantation and waited for another display of its profound glory to instil in her new heights of awe. An attack finally piercing Arrayah's hellish resistance would be immensely satisfying, though Ophelia could feel the dim tightness of fear attempting to encroach upon her as the inhuman wailing shook her conviction down to its core. With the blade's gentleness now combined with authority her resolve stood strong against it, but she knew that what came next would not be pleasant to witness or to be on the receiving end of and prayed they could slay Arrayah before the truest depths of her malice could be inflicted upon them.

Though Ophelia prepared for something immense to happen when she offered the required quicksilver and uttered the requested incantation, the effect was actually rather subtle. The pale moonlight and white starlight upon the night's sky contained in her blade merely appeared to shimmer for a moment and then, with a faint electric crackle, all turn a subtle shade of blue.

"There," the voice told her. "It is no longer an arcane implement. Its blade and all of its powers will now inflict voltaic energy upon any target, which it senses Arrayah has no resistance against. You can hurt her now, Champion."

Suddenly very glad to have stocked up on Quicksilver Bullets, Ophelia let out a deep breath before feeding yet another bullet into the blade and eyeing up more shadows from which to strike Arrayah. While she seemed to be currently in the process of metamorphosing somehow and was still vulnerable Ophelia opted to strike nearly vertically from the floor right in front of Arrayah, so as to impale her elongated torso segment the whole way up. She made sure to do so after Farren's current strike had landed and before his next one would land, again withdrawing the blade as quickly as possible. She would hate for Farren to somehow get a shock from the blade's unrestrained power, but there was hardly even the time to call out to let him know, let alone time for him to react.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

As her blade and Arrayah's both disappeared, for a brief moment Ophelia felt her heart sink and an icy shard of despair sink into her very heart, the comforting weight and brilliant light she had grown so used to suddenly leaving her cold and alone in this nightmare of a place. For perhaps the first time since she'd awakened its light Ophelia felt fear grip her; the hairs on the nape of her neck rose as if in anticipatory vigil, her stomach roiled and sank, and her lips quivered and trembled. Her very senses were swallowed by an incomprehensible nothingness the very antithesis of what she had seen when she'd first heard the whispers and become the blade's bearer, and though she could not know how she knew she was certain beyond words that this was what the cold nothingness of distant space felt like. She understood it for only a fleeting microsecond, their position in the grand cosmos, before a tiny mote of light illuminated the darkness... no, not one, but many. More than she could ever count, revealing themselves and shooing away the pernicious cold of true absence. Her heart soared as she saw them, her hope renewed, and the blood that felt like it had frozen in her veins pulsed and thrummed with new life... and she felt it all slip away. How divine... How sublime... she thought as a new weight settled into her hands, far lighter than the Holy Moonlight Sword had ever been.

The first thing she noticed was the moon, of course, almost in the palm of her hand... closer than it had ever been. Whereas before the sword had taken on a sheath of light, like a ray of moonlight just for her, she no longer had to settle for just one. The source of them all was right there, and from it extended unfathomable galaxies darkening to a point of abyssal sharpness she had been very fortunate not to be on the receiving end of... an ability she was eager to put to new use against its former wielder. Let us bring Arrayah peace, for her vigil is over and her purpose fulfilled. Please, tell me how to use your powers? she thought, communing with this blade for the first time as a comforting familiarity filled her.

"You supply it with quicksilver, just as you did with the half you wielded. If you then slash, you will unleash the wave of moonlight you know. If you thrust, the explosion. If you plunge it into a shadow while looking at another shadow, its blade will be projected and emerge there. And if you impale yourself, darkness will exude from you from which many blades will emerge.
It... may have more. It feels as though it has greater potential, but you lack what is needed to unlock it. Our bond is too weak. It may tell you more later." came the reply.

So prepared, Ophelia's right hand came to the quicksilver tube at her side and she wasted no time in feeding a bullet to the blade, quickly scouting suitable shadows about Arrayah's monstrous form from which to launch an attack--she was quite certain that Arrayah would come for her, enraged as she was, so she quickstepped backwards a full five meters and stabbed the perfected blade into her own shadow on the ground as she arrived while looking at the plentiful shadows arrayed about Arrayah, aiming to launch the attack at approximately a 30 degree angle facing towards her, aiming to have as many points of contact as possible through her elongated body. If she attempted to chase Ophelia down she would most certainly run into the blade and if she stood still it would hit her, which would give Farren plenty of opportunity to renew his assault when he recovered from the shockwave while not risking hitting him at all. She would withdraw the blade as quickly as possible whether it hit or missed and begin jogging towards the direction she might find Torquil in, keeping a healthy distance and recovering her stamina. She kept the quicksilver tube handy and her senses sharp, ready to react to however Farren took advantage of the situation and provide him with support from afar.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Before she'd even had chance to put the Holy Moonlight Sword to rest the moment of opportunity rose, and Ophelia resolved herself to enact her manoeuvre. She watched as Arrayah angled the tip of the Profane Blade downwards and struck with tremendous speed that Farren used his own to counter, and in bringing the blade into reach Ophelia unfurled like a coiled spring released and quickstepped in towards the pair from her standing position, breaking into a sprint as she did. As she travelled she squeezed her right hand until she felt a pop of pressure and the glass comprising the hourglass broke, scattering the scale-sand within as a potent force was released. With time frozen to a standstill for everyone else, Ophelia moved as quickly as physically possibly to get into range--quickstepping if necessary--and touched the luminous tip of her blade to its counterpart as she quickly incanted the words of power: "Gestalt Truth!"

She honed her will to a razor's edge, pouring all of her sense of self and determination into the Holy Moonlight Sword and its counterpart, seeking to wrest control over the opposing half from Arrayah. Arrayah's sense of self was strong to have remained this intact for this long, and the eons, perhaps longer, some unthinkable amount of time that Arrayah had to bond with the opposing weapon had no doubt won its allegiance completely... but Ophelia knew from the Profane Blade's other half that it yearned to be whole--and more than that, that it yearned to be free. Release yourself from Arrayah, who languishes here in the dark between worlds. I am Moon-touched, blessed by the Dream, immortal! All the worlds, waking and nightmare, are mine to traverse--let yourself be bound here no more! she not-quite-thought, her thoughts and desires moving too quickly and too powerfully to be contained or expressed by something as crude as language or thought. Versed in rune-lore as she was, perhaps it was something akin to a rune of her own, forming in this instant as a bridge between two halves... or perhaps it was simply the frenzied and fevered wishes of a half-mad witch falling short. She could not know, but she believed with all of her being that she truly was the rightful wielder of this blessed-and-cursed weapon. Whether it responded in kind she would know only upon the resolution.

In either case, she prepared once again to quickstep away as soon as the deed was done. She would need some distance to prevent Arrayah from simply snatching the weapon back, though given Farren's frozen form about to unleash an attack of considerable power she would have more than enough to contend with. Once time unfroze she would assess the situation again, hopefully with the completed blade in hand.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia stopped running, figuring that if Arrayah moved to attack her she would leave herself open to Farren's empowered onslaught, and braced herself to enact the manoeuvre that had formed in her mind as soon as she'd thought of the queer hourglass he'd plucked from the shop and its ability to halt time for a few precious seconds. There was truly no point in her swinging her awakened blade at Arrayah, though that thought struck her and something resonated within her mind. Still clutching the hourglass she brought her hand to the top of the luminous blade and pulled it downwards, reverting it to its base form. If Arrayah perceived no ability for her to immediately fuse their weapons perhaps that would goad her into making the mistake that Ophelia needed.

"Get her blade in my reach!" she called out to Farren, though she kept a careful eye on Torquil too. She really had expected Arrayah to go for her rather than him, to seize the opportunity, but she had clearly underestimated Arrayah's intelligence... or the profane blade's. She would have time to feel guilty after they'd done what was necessary, however, and focused on being prepared to execute her plan. The moment Arrayah's half was in reach she'd use the hourglass, reawaken her blade, quickstep into position, and incant the words of power to combine them. The moment they disarmed Arrayah and Ophelia had a weapon she could finally use against this monstrosity the fight would be over, she was sure of it: even if they failed to kill her, they'd have gotten what they came for... and could return with runes better suited when they'd grown more powerful.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

As Torquil heeded her beckoning Ophelia prepared herself to join the fray too. It seemed the Moonborn's attacks were still ineffective even as they switched weapons--which caused Ophelia to wonder precisely how conscious and aware these aspects of their guide truly were. If they had the memories of being summoned only moments ago it would be clear that regular weapons would be the only ones that truly worked, and yet they simply continued their futile assault. With Gerlinde out of the picture--regrettable, but she personally truly could not have done anything to save Gerlinde without risking their whole mission--they needed enough real threats (or prizes in Ophelia's case) for Arrayah to actually use the profane blade she was dangling quite firmly out of reach. Ophelia had enough time to recover a little stamina, and hadn't been feeling too tired in any case, but she had seen that Farren's breaths were faster than normal and he was much more wilful than Torquil, less liable to make a decision without questioning and hesitation.

"Farren, Paarl's blood! We need you!" she called out as she began to move in, figuring that if anyone could pose enough of a threat to Arrayah and force her to use one of the profane blade's arcane attacks it would be Farren. Moving the blade ever-so-slightly in reach was all that she needed for this to be over. Surely its intelligence--equal and maybe opposite to her own blade's--was guiding Arrayah just as it would guide her if she asked. The enhancing effect of the darkbeast's blood would give Farren all the manoeuvrability he needed to force Arrayah's hand, and perhaps his whip-like weapon could be used to lasso the thin arm raising it above them in some capacity and drag it down? She didn't really know--she just knew he needed to do something now if they weren't to throw all of this away.

As she approached Arrayah she braced herself to quickstep again, though found that Arrayah preferred to target Torquil: her heart soared as he dodged the first attack, only to be grabbed and dangled and impaled by Gerlinde's weapon shortly thereafter. She recalled that others had said giving the Moonborn commands was foolish and that they didn't listen, and so she didn't waste time trying, and her arcane blasts barely caused Arrayah to flinch and would be ineffective... she was running out of options to meaningfully spare Torquil the pain and perhaps acquire a weapon for the Moonborn to use in one fell swoop.

"Arrayah!" she called out as she swerved to the right, the opposite direction Torquil was currently being held in, hoping to attract enough of the beast's attention for her to drop Torquil and recognise the nearing prize of the Holy Moonlight Sword and the impending threat of Farren (if he indeed joined the fray). She hoped it would be enough, that he would listen, and that the very real sense of victory slipping away from their grasp would be enough for Arrayah to get reckless and stupid. She would continue to strafe around Arrayah in an arc, ready to quickstep and dodge any attempts to go for her, such that any attempts for Arrayah to switch focus would require her to free Torquil (or at least force her to use her arm holding the weapon for another purpose, such that Torquil could use his axe on her).

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Watching Torquil fan out and keep his distance, Ophelia was very impressed at what Torquil must've realised--and equally crestfallen that his plan completely inadvertently invalidated hers. No matter, she resolved, there are other ways. She observed the Moonborn's assault failing to be effective at all and found herself thinking that this must be an arcane projection of their guide and keeper--they seemed not to observe the rules that one had to be in a single place at a time, with the ordeal of the Winter Lantern and the Doll's lapse of consciousness... and Arrayah's resistance to the arcane seemed to still be present. Ophelia couldn't fathom another reason why the Moonborn's attacks would be so ineffective-looking given that when Farren had handed them one of his weapons they seemed to be inflicting significantly more damage.

Ophelia cursed her own lack of desire to use any other weapon for a moment, and felt some strange pull towards the weapon that the Moonborn was currently using. She could swear she'd seen a copy--a physical one--in the Workshop. She would have to pick one up ere they succeeded, though perhaps the moment of opportunity would be over then once she had the fully awakened blade... still, it couldn't hurt to have options... as well as get a good lesson on this gun-parrying technique that she felt like she'd dismally failed at. Ophelia stopped her charge towards Arrayah, safely in range of her larger attack but about 6 meters away from Arrayah, beckoning Torquil in with a nod of her head (he often deferred to her but sometimes didn't: she would be prepared either way--and would understand him not, given how awful he'd described being hit by the blades was) while she prepared herself to dodge and somewhat recover her waning stamina as she did. If Farren looked to her she'd beckon him towards the amassing group too--the timing would be difficult, but as soon as Arrayah brought the blade down into a reachable position she would execute her plan of stopping time and claiming the united blade for herself. Otherwise, it was simply a game of continuing to get lucky and maintaining constant vigilance and tension.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

As Farren passed her and handed off the hourglass, Ophelia clutched it with her free hand and adjusted her course to run towards Torquil and the Moonborn instead. Clumping everyone up left them vulnerable to the more powerful of Arrayah's attacks, of course, but Ophelia figured that such a move would be Arrayah's last: she'd bring the blade down into reach and when her next moment of awareness came it would be gone. Well... she thought so, at least: none of them had ever used the sands before. She wondered what it would feel like, what it would look like: but the sands were in plentiful supply, it seemed, as nothing had indicated that she could no longer purchase them from the shop. There would be time aplenty for tests when she bore the completed blade and Arrayah was nothing but a memory.

Ophelia would continue to run with them if they ran towards Arrayah and caught up as she approached--which was almost certain in her mind as she did--and she would wait for the perfect opportunity. Bringing her half to Arrayah was the perfect bait, one she figured Arrayah was too crazed and enraged to pass up. She could not predict how events would unfold by joining the others in the fray, but bringing the blades close and offering Arrayah a tantalising opportunity seemed to have such a potential reward that she was determined to take it. If not... well, everyone would be close by. Killing her would not be difficult if things went truly awry, though she felt a creeping sense of anticipation beginning to build in her as she approached and her prize neared her grasp. Perhaps for the first time ever, she felt truly alive--and knew why it was that Hunters existed, and why so many lost themselves to the Old Blood.