Tuujaimaa

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia nodded thoughtfully, trying to give each of the options that had been returned to her due consideration, but she found her focus too broken to meaningfully decide. She pressed her forehead once again to the Holy Moonlight Sword, feeling it resonate with her, and she begged it for its guidance in this moment. What should we do? Where is our light most needed?"

"Its light would be a blessing for all of the world. You are its wielder; once you become strong enough, Huntress, it may ask a favor. Until then, glory will be with you wherever you go and whatever you do."

"Yes... Yes, Farren, you're right. Byrgenwerth and the Forbidden Woods, they're enticing too, but... The Followers have been gathering scraps of the Arcane, anything that lingered from the times before the Blood Moon. They're groping blindly, but as Gerlinde mentioned, Naira has gotten her hands on some items of very real power. Liberating some of these, or getting a hint of where some items of power might be, would be a good idea before we head to Byrgenwerth and the Old Labyrinth... I wonder if we can find a bell, one that has the power that Pallid's did? Perhaps the resonance can be renewed, and moved... Like the Doll said, the Nightmare can infuse things. I still think I might be able to talk to Naira--together, Gerlinde, we represent a considerable Arcane potential. I don't know if she could ignore us, immortal now as we are, if we get a foot in the door. Ah, and let us get your runes switched out! I will keep the Guidance rune, for being able to see the motes of Nightmare in Yahar'gul will prove profoundly useful... but I think the three of you should switch to the Heir rune that Gerlinde taught me--it'll increase the echoes you get. Torquil especially needs to catch up!" Ophelia said, her voice slowing and becoming much calmer than it had been in the past few moments. With a new and more achievable goal in mind, she had a much easier time of evaluating all of the information they had--and she could see it plain on Farren's face that he needed to work his recent trauma out in the way only a Hunter could. She owed him whatever assistance he needed, and getting some experience of what they were all like in combat would be a good idea too.

Ophelia bent down to retrieve the runebrand from the Messengers, but quickly turned to hand it off to Gerlinde--she'd be able to apply the runes. Ophelia, meanwhile, pulled forth the strange parasite in a fishbowl that she'd picked up--and she both asked the Messengers for their information on it, and the Holy Moonlight Greatsword. She then retrieved the Rosmarinus and did the same, figuring she should work out the specifics of what her arsenal of weapons did before they travelled to Yahar'gul.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia nodded along gleefully with Gerlinde as she explained what she'd seen, her face brightening in realisation about what that sudden and intense feeling of being watched was, that she'd felt both with Dietrich and just moments ago. It didn't feel any less awful, but at least it had moved from the nebulous realm of ignorance to something she was aware of and could now do something about--and she tilted her head slightly and gave Gerlinde a small nodding gesture as she finished speaking.

"It is true that he is a weaver of lies and half-truths, but every lie is underpinned by a grain of truth. In knowing the shape of his lies, what he covers, what he reveals to us because he is careless and thinks we have not the wit to resist him... All of this is more information than we had. It comes at the cost of giving him information, so we definitely should not go back... but you are right that we have to be careful. Not rush into things foolishly, not... I'm sorry--I should have known better. I'm glad we have you, love, to help see what we can't. To help temper my hubris and curiosity. I'd thought that he hadn't realised that I had seen through his little ploy, and that we could leverage that... but we've just been exposed to him further. We can make the most of it, though, I suppose."

When Ophelia had finished speaking long enough to become aware of her surroundings again, she was glad to see Farren mostly back to form. She uncurled her long braid from the Holy Moonlight Sword, soaked through as it was, and let it fly behind her in the wind. She gave Farren a warm smile and listened to him before pondering a moment.

"Yes, this gold appears to be our enemy--Harold is merely a vector, an anchor point. I think, dears, we're going to have to obtain a lot more insight. Seek more reliable sources of knowledge. I... Hmm. Doll, dear, I've had a thought. I always knew something about my blood was special, so before I left Hemwick on my journeys the last time I concealed a vial in my old home and obscured it with a ritual. Would... a vial of untainted Paleblood, before becoming made a Hunter, be useful to you in any way? I fear I should collect it regardless, if it's still there, if only to keep it out of the Vicar's hands. This... this can wait, though, I think. What do we want to do now? We could still go back to the Forbidden Woods... Maybe the Wise Master has some information we don't? Are there realms of Nightmare yet unexplored we might venture to, or... we could go to Yahar'gul. Try and speak with Naira. I... my mind is abuzz, I'm struggling to pick something to focus on."

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia took a moment to steady herself, breathing in calmly through her nose and exhaling a few seconds later in a rhythmic loop. She let the horror and disgust wash over her, pass through her, and finally take their leave of her--she then turned to give Gerlinde a gentle smile, but was immediately taken off guard by the wetness permeating her hair and clothing and how suddenly... transparent certain garments were. She immediately looked away bashfully, though returned her gaze only a few seconds later absent her wandering eyes.

"... Was there a part of 'wants to raise an immortal army enthralled by his power' that seemed... less than disastrous to you? We know it can affect his false Paleblood Hunters--imagine what even a handful of people dedicated to him could do. Whatever his means of creating false Paleblood, whatever part of this sacred space he's bastardised and taken advantage of, we simply must agree that he both cannot be allowed to do this and will stop at nothing to see it done. If we're agreed on that, then his death warrant is already signed. Some part of the influence must linger, embedded like a shard of glass in your mind's eye... There must be a rune that can deter this influence, or... well, I suppose the two of you could increase your affinity for the Arcane with blood echoes, and we could... I don't know; it's difficult to think of a solution for a problem like this." She began, not getting heated or even angry in the slightest--just... confused, and wanting to explain what was very obvious logic to her to her companions.

"Getting ahead of ourselves won't benefit us, though, that much is absolutely certain... Thank you, Gerlinde, for your uncharacteristically stabilising influence! Okay... Well. Knowing what secrets lurk in the Grand Cathedral is absolutely paramount; all information about this false Paleblood is my highest priority. I also need Harold's insights on the nature of thought, of how memories can live within skulls and their experience be passed on... And neither Farren or Torquil can return. This, then, necessitates a brief splitting up--I am happy to go alone, and I can pick up more blood vials and other tidbits from Dietrich for us. Unless any of you have something more pressing that we need to do? If you two need me in any capacity, I'll do whatever I can for you--I suppose making sure you're alright should be my first concern, shouldn't it?"

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"Glimpses of a larger picture, yes, but incomplete... The revelations have only begun, and I fear the worst is yet to come. I don't know the truth of it yet--I merely report what I have been told. Mother Moon above... I am able, unlike many, to see through the veneer of Harold's illusion and read his real facial expressions. I don't know if I'm the best judge of character, or if he's typical enough to be judged by normal standards, but I didn't detect any hint of falsehood from what he said. He gave me the impression he believes it, if nothing else. Let your mind spin and piece together what you can from the pieces of the puzzle that I've brought to you, love. I'll come back with more, and we can put it together. I... I know that none of this makes sense, yet, and I know even less than you do... but we must muddle our way through the dark for now. I will be okay; my guiding moonlight will show me the path." Ophelia replied, voice still as hurried and feverish as it was before--though the look on her face was entirely placid and collected. She seemed... almost like one touched by madness having a rare moment of lucidity, though it was no madness but simply an expanding awareness and the collapsing of her prior ignorance.

She turned, then, to find Gerlinde--who either came with her or didn't. She hadn't had the wherewithal to check previously, and returned to her new friend and companion's side one way or the other.

"Do you want to come along, Gerlinde? I don't want to impose, of course, but... I would feel better for having you there, and I know you thirst for secrets just as much as I do. I... I feel as though time is of the essence, though I can't explain why. He's more insane than we are, though! He wants to raise an army of false Palebloods, subject them to that sickening influence, and run roughshod over everything that would resist him. Heedless of the damage it might do to this Dream, to our birthright, to the grander purpose we have been chosen to bring into being. We must stop him from realising his goals, at any cost... and Mother Moon above it'll be satisfying to watch the life leave his eyes."

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Upon awakening, Ophelia immediately went to check on both Torquil and Farren--though the sudden constriction and dilation of Farren's pupils and his expressions of torment made certain she checked over Torquil first. Farren clearly needed his space to process what had just happened.

"Mm, quite right. I... I'm sorry to have sent you there--it'll never happen again. Gerlinde and I, it seems, can visit freely... but until we have some means to protect you two from whatever influence exists there, you can't ever go back. Remember, always, that he isn't a nice old man. Remember that what he's done to you is a violation, and it will never stop sickening me that I allowed you to be introduced to it too. Whatever's in that cathedral, though... Gerlinde and I need to see it." Ophelia began, making movements as though she was going to offer Farren or Torquil a hug but not quite able to make herself go through with it.

Ophelia then quickly looked around for the doll and the Shopkeeper, and made a beeline towards them.

"So--Harold got a hold of Djura's blood. And Moira's blood. And about a week ago, here's the real bit of news, your blood. That's what let him perform this false Paleblood experiment--the Great Ones that died on the Night of the Blood Moon: their names are Venara, Seraph, and the Orphan of Kos. There's apparently some secret in the cathedral, and I have questions I fear only Harold can answer--I need to head back there now, so we can learn the extent of the meddling that's gone on with your blood. After that... we regroup, and we work out what the most pressing thing going on in Yharnam right now is. Doll, could you look after dear Farren and Torquil? They've had... a deeply unpleasant experience, and..." Ophelia spoke, her voice frenzied and hurried. Her mind was spinning quickly, but still moon-bright and with utmost clarity. The brisk winds filling the Dream had something of an energising effect on her, innervating her reserves, and she turned to look at Gerlinde expectantly as she headed over to the headstones once more.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"No splitting up, then. Simple enough. It's been a most enchanting experience, as always, Harold." Ophelia replied, stiffly and curtly, before beginning to corral the others towards the lantern waiting not terribly far from them. Torquil and Gerlinde would be easy to herd towards the lantern, for they wanted to go, but Farren... Ophelia stuck especially close to Farren and attempted to guide him towards the lantern with all of the energy of an exhausted mother attempting to round up her wayward children.

"We'll return to the lantern near the start of the workshop, so we can access the cathedral... and I'll come back after we're done to ask my questions, dear. I do truly think that we'll be able to have a very enlightening conversation." Ophelia called over to the Vicar, just as they were about to collectively leave (assuming there was no resistance from any of the party).

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

"Far be it from me to direct you how to best use your resources, dear, but I think very little will come of searching for the Crowmother. I do have something to ask of you... though it's relevant to our mutual interest in the arcane, and we wouldn't want to bore dear Farren and Torquil! Why don't we visit the Cathedral, stop for a moment to admire the beauty of the garden, and then send these two back to the Dream so they can begin preparing for our imminent visit to Yahar'gul? There are some revelations best shared in private, and I do hope you'll tell me all about the Lumenflowers!" Ophelia replied, very quickly as though to not leave the others room to suggest anything else first.

Ophelia studied Farren and Torquil quite closesly with occasional side glances and careful use of her periphery, trying to keep tabs on them and their positions. She positioned herself such that she was a little ahead of the others, too, as though about to lead them onward but halting until it seemed there was ample permission to do so.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia felt a sense of panic rising in her, distant and as though preserved in amber, at the realisation that Farren was going to overplay their hand and there was nothing that she could do about it. She reckoned that Harold must rely very much on his ability to manipulate the minds of the people around him, and that his role was one of a puppetmaster--though as she turned to look at the Lumenflowers in passing as her gaze wandered over to Gerlinde, she could not help but feel there was some truth to what Moira had said and that this frail old man was nothing more than an affable front for a more sinister force.

Still--there were rare jewels of knowledge in what he imparted to her: the names of the three Great Ones that perished. In names there was power, and they provided pinpricks of distant starlight for her to aspire to and travel towards. She gave Gerlinde a look, one of a peer recognising a peer in... either contempt or pity for those around them who were not able to resist the influence of Harold--though she did not attempt to incite the girl to violence, just shared a knowing look and offered a rare moment of connection.

"Lovely--such an invitation is quite the honour, dear. I'll wait until we can all visit, though--these secrets pertain most of all to Farren and to Torquil. They need to see it as well. This Crowmother is something we're looking into, of course, but Moira seemed to have most of it handled herself. A Hunter will Hunt, after all, and she's caught a whiff of prey!" Ophelia replied, curtseying to the Vicar slightly more stiffly than she usually did. She kept the act up less for him, knowing that he knew about her resistance to him by now, but for Farren. He seemed... deferent in a way that she had not expected of him, and had felt his presence move towards her in a heated moment earlier--she would keep whatever peace seemed to exist in his addled mind, for she did not for even a second consider leaving him alone in the presence of the Vicar. She would truly sooner slay him and Torquil both to safely return them to the Dream than give Harold even a single instant of unsupervised access to them, vulnerable as they were. Something about the Holy Moonlight Sword seemed to resonate with that feeling, and Ophelia wondered if the feelings of virtue gleaming within her were the same chivalry that the sword's previous chosen had felt. If they had stood under Mother Moon too, and either meted out her justice or served as the agent of her protection. She stood, watching over the situation hawkishly, exhibiting something of the particular mixture of paranoia and vigilance that Farren normally did.

"We don't think it's a particular priority, right now, certainly not compared to this threat at Yahar'gul... but we will keep you updated, of course. I know that it must be difficult to ascertain the truth of what is happening out there from these lofty heights, and that the reports of those of us closer to the ground are what keep you connected to your extant flock." Ophelia added, not trying to steer the conversation away from the Crowmother, per se, but simply wanting to hasten it to its end so they could all proceed together.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia listened to Harold's tangent about the safety of Yharnam, internally sighing at the realisation that she would have to participate in this conversation many moments more to get everything that she needed. She wanted to get away from this place, despite how enchanting the Lumenflowers were, and she especially wanted to get Torquil and Farren away--she was about reaching the limit of how much of Farren's nauseating obsequiousness she could stomach, and wanted to spare him the indignity of it besides.

"That is a pressing concern, yes, and we will most certainly investigate... but, imagine this, we are fighting our way through Yahar'gul--no doubt defended by an army of Followers with arcane relics at their disposal--and the results of your experiments... sever our connection to the Dream, or disrupt it somehow for even a moment. The hook slips loose, and we sink beneath the waters never to be seen again... and this is a real possibility, love. I cannot allow us to take on so immensely dangerous a proposition while a threat to our safety lurks in the reaches of my mind... so I will need to be caught up to speed on your experiments and results, dear, and pick your brain besides. Then... we can stop whatever's happening in Yahar'gul. I know, being such a nice old man, that you want what's best for us all--and that you know keeping us in the dark can't possibly be best for everyone." Ophelia spoke, her voice beginning to sound a little weary at the edges. She managed to retain her positive affect, and tried her best to be respectful, but her patience truly was wearing thin--and looking at Gerlinde's no-doubt mischievous countenance out of the corner of her eye wasn't helping. She hoped the Vicar would just acquiesce, but a sinking feeling in her stomach whispered to her that he wouldn't, that this tired charade would continue, and she tried very hard to suppress how that made her feel.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's gaze travelled up towards her Mother Moon, brighter in the sky now but still not at her full glory, and she felt a serenity envelop her that mere words lacked the capacity to describe. It was more like a Caryll Rune than it was their unworthy language, like when the Holy Moonlight Sword had first revealed the Guidance rune to her, like a hundred books condensed into a single instant and allowed to wash over her. She turned to meet Vicar Harold's gaze not with the growing frustration she'd had a moment ago, but with a moon-bright sparkle in her eyes that would no doubt betray her own sharpness--and she smiled just as softly and wisely as he did.

"You're right, love, there is so much that I don't know... and I hope you see my outburst only as the concerns of a devoted witch whose sight yet lacks the clarity and discernment you embody. If you would elevate this humble servant to a higher plane of understanding, I can in turn offer you insights about the Dream that only one truly connected to it by its own means could offer--as well as one who has direct communion with the Moonborn Hunter. I know that together we can reach the greatest understanding, and your vision for a safer Yharnam can be executed." Ophelia spoke, her tone suddenly reproachful and reverent. There was too much that she needed from Harold, too many resources and connections to forfeit, for her to declare war on him and end him utterly here and now--though some part of her yearned for the violence, it too had seen the light. It knew that its time would come, and that clarity was not 'no', it was simply 'not now'--and in that, it contentedly rested beneath the placid lake of Ophelia's mind, biding its time and waiting for the moment to strike. She was no experiment, and sworn wholly to her Mother Moon. Harold would rue this day, and face the pitiless judgment of this lunar witch when and only when Mother Moon desired it so.