Tuujaimaa

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia grew increasingly unsettled by Farren's increasing paranoia and anxiety, listening to his words but struggling to hear the reason behind them and instead only seeing it as him being utterly blinded by fear.

"With respect, love, you... appear to have come across Ego unprepared. You have no talent for the Arcane, nor implements of communion to guide you, nor understanding of the nature of the forces of the Waking World and the Nightmare. You... appear to have been about as unprepared for what you took on as anyone could be. It's little wonder that it destroyed you--but I am not like you, dear. I am a true Paleblood, marked by the Dream. I wield the Holy Moonlight Sword, and bring Mother Moon's glory wherever I go. I have been studying and communing with forces beyond for most of my life... and if we let fear rule us, we are no better than cattle waiting to be led to the slaughter. I cannot let fear break me, or we have no hope at all. Besides... I won't be alone, will I?" Ophelia retorted, confident and lightly chiding. She knew that this instinct of his was a protective snarl, a warning to not tread the forsaken path, so she was not cold or distant--but she was firm in her conviction that fear could not stop her.

"If there's a sound logical reason not to, I won't--but unless you can come up with some other way we might learn what we need to know, I see few paths forward."

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia smiled as Gerlinde took the gem and scurried off to apply it to her weapon, like watching a child get a new toy and immediately rush off to play with it. Of course, the circumstances were quite different here, with them, but... it warmed Ophelia's heart nevertheless. She listened to the Doll's translation for the Shopkeeper, nodding along and occasionally creasing her brows or pursing her lips in thought.

"Fortunately, Gerlinde taught us a rune that can ward against such influences--things like... Ashen Blood, but I think this 'Frenzy' might be covered too..." Ophelia opined, before kneeling down to beckon the little ones and asking them about the Deep Sea rune. At this time the whispers of her sword had reverberated through her mind enough for her to understand.

"Mother Moon whispers, and it seems that it was Torquil himself that beckoned this thing here... though I suspect that is the False Paleblood. Strange things seem to happen whenever it's Farren or Torquil who enter--it seemed to mostly be relegated to changes in the weather, but... if the Old Blood is the fundamentally a source of change, as you say, this purloined power might spill over into here. I wonder if the Gods experience their own sorts of Frenzy, what the mutable power of change and their own immense wisdom might do if turned against them? I also wondered if it had something to do with the Lord of Providence, but the whispers think not. Every answer we get seems to spawn two more questions, and we have to suffer through unreliable information from sources with differing agendas to our own to even answer those questions!" Ophelia added, and something about her words and tone and stance was very tense. Though calm, this development worried her--and was starting to push her towards something she'd been hoping to avoid.

"I... think I have to commune with Ego. Embrace this gold for myself, and learn of it. The terrestrial concerns are growing but there are good people out there who can manage those. I fear it falls to us to deal with the burden of Gold, for who else is equipped? I must know what he wants--what his vision of the correct change to come out of the Old Blood is, what his idea of worthiness is. Heh, it sounds ridiculous even as I try to justify it, but I fear that without knowing who our enemy is and what they really want we will keep fumbling in the dark like blind fools. Ignorant to our own ignorance..." She mused aloud, clearly very much wrapped up in her head about trying to keep all of the new information they'd learned present and relevant. There was an edge of anxiety to her tone towards the end, though perhaps it was more akin to fevered delirium.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia nodded along intently to Gerlinde's explanation while she consulted the messengers, then stood up and faced Gerlinde directly. She took a brief moment to formulate her thoughts before she spoke, idly rubbing the queer red gem in her hand before walking over to Gerlinde and offering an outstretched palm with the gem in it to her.

"The messengers said that these gemstones can be used to enhance weapons, and this one partially shifts a weapon into the Nightmare--which gives it some measure of power for your talent with the Arcane to draw out. Neither Torquil or Farren have much aptitude for the Arcane, and my blessed blade doesn't need it... Would you like to apply it to your cane, love?" Ophelia asked, smiling gently at Gerlinde. Mad as she was, she was genuinely a useful presence that Ophelia was grateful for--and she found Gerlinde much less disconcerting than most anyway. Ophelia also made another point of looking for the Shopkeeper, and would relay what happened to them when they arrived--before asking if they knew any more about what the creature was, or about Frenzy and its causes.

"These apparitions," Ophelia thought, letting the whispers build in the cistern of her mind and flow into the Holy Moonlight Sword. "what are they? How can they enter this sacred space without Paleblood? Are they... to do with Ego?"

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's attention was, initially, mostly focused upon the strange creature she had effectively just slain, still looking for clues in the details of the dispersing mist even as it faded to nothingness. When the strange glass-like orb fell to the ground Ophelia went to pick it up immediately, curiously gazing upon it to determine something about it. She was going to ask the Holy Moonlight Sword before Torquil's issues began to compound, and she turned to him in a worried state not long after it began--though noticeably much slower than Farren had, preoccupied as she was.

She observed him very carefully, strafing around him to get a better look at his features, trying not to be distracted by the sound of his furious and ragged breaths increasing in intensity. She watched him with growing concern and curiosity, initially worried for his longevity, but as his skin began to writhe of its own accord as though possessed she progressed from worried to outright frightened. She truly had no idea what might happen if he were to die here, in the Dream, nor did she understand how this strange coincidence had come to be. Farren and Torquil seemed to be the only ones who caused such strange disruptions to the Dream's otherwise placid (if lightly melancholic) permanence, so she could assume it was yet another consequence of their false Paleblood--and this had her watching him like a proverbial hawk. When the worst of it happened and he exploded with viscera Ophelia was close enough and looking intently enough to be covered by a spray of blood--though she truly seemed to barely notice, peering through the mess to see the subtle signs of life upon Torquil's body. Beneath the armour seeing his chest rising and falling would be difficult, so she leaned down and hovered her hand just over his mouth and nose to make sure he was breathing (if she couldn't hear the sound) and looked down at him with a grim countenance.

"Mother Moon above, what was that? You're right, just like Pallid's bell, but... it seemed to be something the apparition did? And not something tied to its existence, because the change overtook him after it was dispersed... Hm. Perhaps the little ones will know more?" Ophelia spoke, leaning down to present the blood-red orb to them and acquire a new description that might offer some insight.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's mouth drew close into a taut grimace at Torquil's explanation and the subsequent act of intended execution the spirit performed against him. Two thoughts immediately flashed through her mind: the spirit needed to be slain and Torquil might need to be administered a blood vial depending on his healing potential. She had very little time with which to consider this, and ended up coming to the conclusion that they'd all seen how much more effective the Holy Moonlight Sword was against the apparition so it made sense for her to strike out at it first. Whip-fast she adjusted her position to give her adequate space and slashed with the edge of her blade, now less hindered by the others, in another swipe downward through the spirit--though this time she deliberately looked for this strange arcane tether between the two (assuming enough of a gap was created between them by some combination of Torquil stumbling forward and her strike driving the spirit back) and would aim to sever it with her blade if an opportunity presented itself.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Her attack having been the most effective--a little tidbit she filed away for the future--caught Ophelia's attention, awkward and stilted though it was, and she examined the trail of energy more thoroughly as she felt the moment of danger and adrenaline pass. It... seemed to be something connected to Torquil, at least, though she didn't know if the apparition was borne of him or simply attached to him. It struck her that they really did not know precisely what these false Palebloods were at all, and heightened in her mind the very real possibility of it being dangerous both to them as individuals and to the greater Dream as a whole.

"Are you alright, dear?" Ophelia asked Torquil, quickly wheeling around to him to make sure that he was okay. She knew that he was--in the Dream or no, he was a hardy lad and had survived much worse than that. She also quickly scanned around for the Doll and Shopkeeper and called out to them: "Do you have any idea what that was?"

She also asked the same question to the Holy Moonlight Sword, figuring that its arcane consciousness had come into contact with the spirit--and it might offer greater insights, as it so often did.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia, in turn, reacted much the same as Farren--initial surprise, immediate retribution thereafter. For her part, always wielding the Holy Moonlight Sword made her very rapid indeed to get into the action as she immediately quickstepped towards this spectre (on the opposite side to the one that Farren was moving towards) and brought the edge of her blade down in a vertical slice to give Farren as much space to hit as possible while shrinking the strange spectre's range to flee as much as possible.

She observed it very carefully, eager to both learn how it attacked and to identify upon its person any items of interest that might provide her with a starting point to identify precisely what this thing was, and what had just happened.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia paid little attention to the initial hostility displayed towards her this time, understanding their wariness but pitying their lack of knowledge: they would be the only ones who would suffer if things came to blows. Upon noticing Victor she looked up and gave him a relieved smile, though did not call out to him--she was under the impression that his long journey back would not have increased his opinion of her any and did not want to start a confrontation when she had a very particular goal in mind. She looked back to see if Farren and the others were caught up, and whether or not Victor regarded them (she assumed they would him, minus Gerlinde).

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's first sight upon arrival was indeed the lantern--or the featureless golden head taking its place, more accurately--and the suddenness of it gave her a sudden moment of visible shock that immediately lulled her out of that strange almost-sleep state one feel into when entering or exiting the Dream. She blinked quickly and, resisting the urge to look upon the eyes emerging from the strange not-lantern with considerable willpower, immediately began to strut off towards the entrance like she had on the previous occasion that she'd entered from here. It had very quickly occurred to her that now all of them were seeing through the illusions of the world that Torquil was demonstrably awful at hiding anything that he observed or felt from showing on his face. This meant that whatever was observing them would notice Torquil noticing it, and perhaps the same for the others (or indeed her, if it was perceptive) so it wasn't like they could bluff that they hadn't. The only play for Ophelia to make would be to play it off like she was prideful enough in her own abilities with the arcane (as she genuinely had earlier) that if she was immediately purposeful and not inquisitive it might simply underestimate her. She supposed that wasn't an unreasonable expectation of a being whose name was Ego.

With that in her mind, she was dead-set on heading directly into the Workshop and towards Dietrich--in her mind's eye she was still torn and fried and scorched from the battle with the Darkbeast, but thanks to the Dream her appearance had been meticulously restored. Upon entering she'd immediately scan the room to see if Dietrich was visible there, and if not she'd head up towards his office where he'd taken her previously. She remembered well the announcement that her and her companions were free to flit about the place, so she would wait for the others to catch up before leaving them behind at any point.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia read the rapid response eagerly, the first one eliciting a coy smirk from her and the second a thoughtful nod. She looked up at the Lightbeast in the middle of its newfound freedom and smiled brightly, moving to position herself so she was in front of them and could speak with them more directly.

"There are so few places that can offer sanctuary now, love, as it's a Night of the Hunt. Old Yharnam... I used to visit a church there, when I was a little girl--the Church of the Good Chalice. If it's intact and uninhabited, it might offer some peace... and Old Yharnam is rarely visited besides. Thank you, and I'm so very glad that we could free you from this awful place. We'll be heading to Old Yharnam at some point, so... if we see you there, I'll come and visit. Perhaps I can tell you the stories of what we've been up to?" Ophelia spoke, her beaming smile somewhat taking on a tinge of melancholy as she recalled that few places would really be anything approaching safe.

While she was speaking she felt the whispers begin to trickle into her mind, too, and she was (as always) elated to receive the Holy Mooonlight Sword's guidance. She nodded along to it solemnly and replied in her mind: Always, my guiding moonlight. We are of one will. Whisper to me where to go, and what I need to know, and we shall carve a trail of glory across this city.

"Right, my dears, I think it's time we found a lantern in Yahar'gul proper, no? Once we have a foothold here, Naira will have little choice but to negotiate with us--if slaying that abhorrent monstrosity wasn't enough, picking off her Followers until naught remains should serve as a pacifying fact of her new reality. Ah, but how foolish of me, Farren is right, I have insights to share! Come, come, let us all partake of this bounty. Would... either of you like me to apply it now? Farren... I understand, and it isn't like we can't just apply it whenever we might need. I think it might be a good idea to apply it to you, Torquil?"