FAMFRIT vs. Party One: Altair/Ofelia/Siana.
It was almost laughable, if you stopped to think about it – this tiny hume bellowing anger and displeasure at this building-sized creature – but Altair's oratory sent a prickle of familiarity down Ofelia's spine, lodging somewhere near her throat. She remembered these tactics, of course, and her blood couldn't help but rise in response to his attack. Like called to like, and her history as an orator ached to flex its own abilities.
"Well done," she called out to him, "Fine words from a fine tongue!" It was praise that, with her skills, sounded very nearly almost genuine, and could boost his own bravery. The samurai beside them already had the effects on her, so the least Fee could do was pay it forward. Then it was time to fling another card, and this one emitted a cloying mist of Poison as it bounced its way down the monster's flank, as if drawing pure black treacle from thin air. Ofelia could barely see, however, and even as she tried to scurry away and let Siana have the melee—
Then the ewer suddenly came swinging out of the Mist, a cart-sized chunk of metal aiming to crush bone and mangle flesh. Ofelia threw herself to the side, lithe and quick, but not enough to avoid it entirely; it clipped her side and sent her flying, winded, bruised, dazed.