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

Ophelia found Farren's request odd--the Heir rune would certainly not make it easier for him to navigate the Nightmare, except in a terribly roundabout way in which he shifted his focus dramatically and suddenly to the Arcane. She didn't let the confusion show on her face, though, instead just smiling warmly and retrieving the brand to apply a rune to Farren--though as he held out his arm for her to brand him, it was not the Heir rune that she envisioned and began to apply but the Mask rune. This entire outburst reeked of the gilded paranoia and mind-shattering influence of Ego, and she needed him sharp and alert and [i]himself[/i] while they planned--not some babbling, bumbling wretch whose fear blinded them to the Light.

"You need the Mask rune." Ophelia spoke, whisper-soft, and turned then to the Doll. "Yahar'gul, then... or Byrgenwerth, perhaps. Runesmith Caryll belonged to Byrgenwerth, but it was the initiates of the School of Mensis from which the Witches learned their most perverse and powerful secrets--though those secrets were always softened and tempered. Until..." Ophelia began, trailing off as she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. The emotional charge of the exchange hadn't resolved, not really, and being made to think of her missing mentors... She took a shaky breath in through her nose and steeled herself.

"Let's go to the Black Workshop. I've Dietrich to find and you've Fulmen to hand over. Though I suppose it'll be a little while before Torquil's done doffing his armour and Gerlinde's done applying the gem to her weapon..." she said, suddenly shifting the topic over to their next course of action.