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

Ophelia paid Farren close attention while they were speaking, and something uneasy began to rise within her the more that she observed. The misnaming of Gerlinde couldn't have been an accident, not with her having spoken the name mere seconds before... there was a story there, some snag in the proverbial tapestry. She briefly gave thought to pulling at it, but decided that such things could be revisited later--though she resolved to keep more of an eye on Farren in the interim, just to be safe.

"Well, before we set off I should give you the lay of the land, so to speak... I'm not quite sure what the gold means, not yet, but the markers in the Dream that have it have odd lanterns--like the ones we're used to, in the Dream and Rebirth's Rise both, albeit all of their metal is gold. They also rest upon these queer little golden plinths, decorated with eyes and people striding into the ocean naked. The little ones seem unable to show up anywhere this gold has taken root--I didn't get the message you'd sent me until I returned to the Dream, and I tried to call them to send you a message while I was there to no avail. The leader, Vicar Harold, he..." Ophelia began, gesturing for Torquil to come closer as she began speaking and waiting for him to be comfortably in earshot before she continued. When she began speaking about Harold she paused for a moment to gather herself, shuddering slightly at the memory.

"He's doing something to everyone there, worming his way into their minds. They all look at him with dreamy eyes and call him a 'nice old man', with exactly that phrasing, and they all seem unaware of the compulsion that's seeped its way into them. I had the thoughts too, though my... particular affinity for the arcane, my tutelage under the Witches, and my guiding moonlight seems to have let me really see them for what they are. I doubt the two of you would fare as well, and would fall under the same compulsion: so I'll warn you now, loves, don't go near the Vicar. Don't listen to him, don't approach him, don't even think about him--he's more dangerous than anyone else I've ever seen, I'm convinced of it... Other than our dear Shopkeeper, of course." Ophelia added, relaxing somewhat with the catharsis of verbalising how violated she felt--and grateful she could hopefully ward her companions against it.