I have been following the Whispering Legion for five days, and all they do is march. If my Aspect didn't reduce my need for sleep, I would have lost them. I am not very good at naming things, but I spent a lot of time in my youth playing chess with my grandfather, and these names seem to fit.
Before I state my findings, I need to express my concern. I cannot quite understand how these Nightmare Creatures move with such synergy, and bizarrely enough, I have witnessed them slaying other Nightmare Creatures of different races they come across. This leads me to believe that they have some kind of direction, a Tyrant hidden within the ranks that I have yet to notice.
The Whispering Legion is composed of thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands of Nightmare Creatures.
The majority of the legion are the ones I have termed Pawns. Pawns seem no taller than the average man. They wield a range of weapons, from swords and shields to pikes and bows. Some Pawns bear tattered banners, but the banners – like their armour – have been dulled by time and torn by an unknown number of battles, meaning I am unable to make out their emblem.
I observed a single figure riding at the head of the Whispering Legion, mounted upon a gaunt, unnatural steed. No surprise, but I call this one the Knight. It carries a broad shield in one hand and a long, barbed lance in the other, a billowing cape of that same unnatural cyan mist drifts from its back, flowing like fabric, yet nothing of the sort, the glow pulsing faintly as it trails behind both rider and mount like some kind of cape. Its steed is equally as armoured, although due to its nature, areas around the underside of its belly and neck are unarmoured to allow for movement, revealing grey skin.
The Knight is flanked by two slender, oddly feminine figures, each bearing a sceptre – I have named these the Bishops. I have noticed that these two do not engage when the Whispering Legion combats. They do not charge or break formation like the others; they rarely move away from the Knight. So I am unable to document how they fight.
Among the mass of the Pawns for every ten, there appears a larger, more imposing figure, which I have named a Rook. These Rooks are hulking, humanoid figures, their forms thick and heavily built, each wielding an enormous mace.
And finally, the siege engines – I have run out of chess-based analogues as they are neither a King nor a Queen. So the name will have to suffice, I'm afraid. They are horrifying constructs, dragged forward on chains by teams of Rooks. Their forms, layered with the dull metal and churning with that same faint cyan luminescence as the mist, as though they are less machines and more manifestations of something far worse. Even at a distance, there is a weight to them, a sense of inevitability in their advance. I am certain that if these engines were to reach Falcon Scott, only the Saints defending its walls would stand any chance of withstanding them.
Note: This report was gathered and compiled by Ascended Morn.
Reading the last line, Lauri's expression darkened.
Addendum: Ascended Morn was slain by the Whispering Legion.
The report ended there – abrupt, clinical. Written by a Government agent, someone who had grown accustomed to death.
Flipping the page, Lauri frowned.
It detailed the last communication Ascended Morn had with Command. Apparently. Ascended Morn's Aspect allowed him to perform as an exceptional scout, one of his Aspect Abilities reduced his need for sleep, and another of his abilities allowed him to enter a daydream-like state where he could communicate with another person across vast distances, a perfect power to wield in Antarctica, where Nightmare Gates made most forms of long-range communication redundant.
This Aspect ability allowed Ascended Morn to see that person's surroundings, and they could see his in turn.
Having been distracted with his conversation, Morn had allowed himself to be seen. A detachment of Pawns broke from the marching force advancing on his position. The Pawns' advance forced him to expend essence. Next, a handful of Rooks followed, driving him back step by step until he was cornered, encircled by the ranks of the Whispering Legion.
Then the Bishops moved.
According to the account of the Government agent who had witnessed Ascended Morn's final moments. The Bishops caused a shift in the fight – at first, it was subtle. Ascended Morn's movements became sluggish. He had a difficult time channelling his essence. Morn's attacks, once precise, began to falter.
And through it all, the Knight watched.
It did not engage immediately. It circled Ascended Morn atop its mist-shrouded steed as he defended himself from the Bishops. By the time it entered the fight, Ascended Morn was already defeated.
His final moments were simply sad.
The Bishops had broken his legs, forcing him to kneel before the Knight, and the Knight simply raised its barbed lance and thrust it through Morn's chest, ending his life. The witness included one final detail, before Ascended Morn's soul was snuffed out, as his essence still flowed and his Aspect ability was still in effect. The Knight turned to look at the agent.
But before anything more could happen, Morn died, and his Aspect ability stopped.
Ascended Morn's body was not recovered.
Leaning back in his chair, Lauri exhaled deeply.
"Ascended Morn… Thank you, I will not allow your death to be in vain."
Looking up from her document, Sansa looked at the paper in Lauri's hand.
"Find something?"
Sliding the page toward Sansa, Lauri brought his hands to his face, covering his mouth. He looked at the ceiling of the communication suite. Holding the position for a few moments, Lauri couldn't help but think about how powerless the Government agent must have felt, witnessing Morn's last moments – powerless to help him.
Lauri let his hands drop onto the table.
"It's the report made by the first scout Command sent to track the Whispering Legion. I think the pages I gave you have the reports from the other two scouts. Do they fill in any gaps in the information?"
Sansa's eyes moved across the page as she quickly read it, ending on Morn's demise.
She pouted.
"Poor guy… No, no, the other two scouts don't really add anything new. Although the third scout documented an encounter the Whispering Legion had with a particularly powerful Nightmare Creature, which happened to come across the legion, at one point, the Knight descended from its horse and drew a long sword sheathed at its hip. The Knight engaged the opposing Nightmare Creature, and swiftly put it down… That was the last communication they had with the third scout; after that, I guess Command decided it wasn't worth it to send any more scouts to track the Whispering Legion's progress."
Tapping his fingers on the screen of the holographic table, Lauri chewed on his cheek, mulling over something in his mind.
Placing the page back on the table, Sansa raised her head to look at Lauri.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Captain?"
Lauri nodded.
"That the Knight is the Tyrant leading the Whispering Legion north."
The words settled between the Irregulars as if they had physical weight.
The last Tyrant they had gone up against was barely worth its title. The Festering Alpha allowed its pack to fall on the enemy's blade, sacrificing themselves so that when its foe reached the Alpha, it would have an easier fight – not that the sacrifice of its minions helped it in the end.
But this new threat, the Knight, did not seem troubled when it came to directly facing its foe. Even going so far as to dismount and personally deal with something that threatened its soldiers. Speaking of its soldiers, the Pawns, Rooks, and two Bishops that seemed to act as its own personal guard. Just with their numbers alone, they seemed insurmountable, and this was without including the siege engines.
None of the scouts had seen the siege engines in action, but each, without fail, noted in their reports a feeling of wrongness that entered their minds every time they looked at the siege engines. If the fallen scouts' reports were true, then Falcon Scott's fall would be inevitable should the Whispering Legion manage to cross the final bridge.
Scratching at the stubble on his chin, Lauri smiled.
"There's a certain light to this situation."
Sansa looked at him, confused.
Lauri raised his arms and half-heartedly shrugged.
"These siege-engines, they are both a blessing and a curse. A curse for us, because if they reach Falcon Scott, its walls will fall. But a blessing, because the Whispering Legion can only move as fast as its slowest component – The siege engines – if it takes teams of these Rooks to pull them along, they must be incredibly heavy. Which means despite the fact they march north without any breaks, they aren't moving as fast as we once expected."
Sansa's expression lifted for a moment – before it twisted into a frown.
"So… that Knight…"
She said quietly.
"It's the Tyrant, isn't it…?"
Lauri's smile tightened, the edges of it strained. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his chin settling against his own steepled fingers.
"Without a doubt… Hey, Sansa, give me your hand."
Watching Larui as he held out his hand, Sansa tilted her head to the side.
"Huh, wh- Oh, right, sure."
She raised her hand, their hands meeting as Lauri took her hand.
Taking Sansa's hand, Lauri activated [Well of Light].
Lauri's soul was nearing its limit on the amount of light that it could store, so before Lauri hit this limit. He decided it was time to finally replenish the light stored within the souls of his underlings.
The light within his radiant Soul Core stirred, then surged outward, spilling across the tranquil surface of his cloudless Soul Sea. Drawn out of his Soul Sea, Lauri's hand began to glow, that same light bleeding through his skin before being transferred – flowing from him into her. Where it slipped through her very being and entered her Soul Sea, disturbing its stillness as it descended, finally settling within her Soul Core
Shivering, she drew her hand back, clutching it lightly as the faint glow beneath her skin slowly faded, leaving only a lingering warmth behind.
"Ah…"
She exhaled softly, shaking her head.
"I'll never get used to that feeling."