**EDITED DUE TO FEEDBACK** Taken from the Ghost of Stella Clairissima Whispercloak Scout Regimen Guardian of The Last City Commissioned by Lord Shaxx Two days before the Battle of Twilight Gap *********MESSAGE BEGIN************************************************************************ If you are listening to this log then my Ghost has either found it’s intended or you have discovered it’s lightless chassis. If the latter be the case, I hope my little friend had enough of a spark left to be able to cull my account from it’s memory. I hope this message finds you well and in good company. I am dying. I’m laying half submerged at the edge of a shallow river somewhere below the Twilight Gap gun emplacement a few miles to the east. I can see the canons from here, silhouetted against the stars. My Battleframe companion, Lelantos 20-25, is in pieces scattered here and there. The charred chunks of an exploded Vandal carcass smoulder around me. The stench is horrid. I have vomited once already due to the pain of losing a leg, which has faded, but I may vomit again if the smell does not subside. I will do my best to recount my mission to this point. I do not have much time so I will attempt to keep it brief. Before I begin, though, let me stress the importance of our resistance. Humanity mustn’t fall to the barbaric House of Devils. Our destiny, which once seemed bright with hope and promise of a glorious reign across this solar system, has not yet been fully realized. Lord Shaxx, and the rest of the Titans, I feel are not to keen on simply holding their ground as Lord Saladin would have them do, but the Titans are steadfast and loyal to a fault. They will hold if Lord Saladin wills it. Lord Shaxx, however, will resist. That is a promise. If not with the rest of the titans, then with his battalion of battle frames. Speaking of battle frames, I was assigned a battle frame scout companion, Lelantos 20-25. When the Whispercloaks were established, a secret regimen kept from Lord Saladin’s knowledge I should add, Lord Shaxx made it clear that us Hunters would scout alone as single units in order to optimize our scouting area. He thought one Hunter would be enough to defend themselves if a situation presented itself. However, a few of us were sent with battle frame scouts. These new scout models had not been fully tested and Lord Shaxx thought this the optimal opportunity to test their stealth and defensive capabilities. My mission was to simply scout the area surrounding the Twilight Gap gun emplacement and report my findings. Fallen Vandals had been seen wandering the wilderness in this area, perhaps themselves scouting. I was informed that, on my discretion, I should take these Vandals out, but only if it was safe to do so silently and without causing an offensive chain reaction amongst the encroaching Fallen house. I had been on the move for half a day, with Lalantos 20-25 close behind. With the exception of my ghost, I had not known an artificial being to move so silently. I had almost forgotten it was there on occasion. I have always known battle frames to be clunky, powerful things. I could never have trusted one of these machines over, say, a Warlock or a fellow Hunter, but Lelantos 20-25 followed, stayed silent, and remained unassuming. Oddly, I felt I could trust it. It was dusk, and I was beginning to tire. Red Hand IX is heavy for a Hand Cannon and Patience and Time will weigh you down even more. Plus, I had not seen a single Vandal, Dreg, or Shank to report. I turned to my robot companion. “Lelantos,” I whispered “Yes, Lady Clairissima,” it crackled silently. So polite, I thought. “Take a message.” “Message for Lord Shaxx?” “Yes. Tell him the search has brought nothing to report thus far. We will break for the night and continue at dusk.” Lelantos 20-25 processed my request for a moment. The amber colored light on his head flashed dimly. “Message sent, Lady Clairissima.” I took off Knucklehead Radar and sat on a tree stump, laying my headgear next to me. I swung my rifle off my back and put it at my feet. I would not put down my Hand Canon, though. A true Hunter knows that her weapon is her life, and mine was Red Hand IX. “A truly lovely weapon,” I thought as I settled in for the night. Hours later I was parched. I had heard a stream nearby, so I thought I would quench my thirst. Leaving Patience and Time by the stump, I began to head for the stream. Lelantos 20-28 had stood silent for quite some time, probably waiting for input, or for me to begin moving out. “Time to move, Lady Clairissima?” “No,” I said. “Just getting a drink of water. I’ll be just over there,” I pointed. I readied my hand canon and began heading out towards the flowing water. It wasn’t too far, but far enough from Lelantos that I felt the need to be extra diligent. I don’t need to die for a simple drink of water. I arrived at the stream, pistol pointed. I scanned the area the best I could without my helmet, my eyes sharp and my ears ever sensitive. I neither saw nor heard anything. I knelt at the edge of the water and placed my handcanon in it’s holster at my hip. I cupped the cool water in my hands and brought it up to my lips, sipping the life sustaining substance. It was good and clean and refreshing. I drank from the stream once more before the ground lit up before me. My instincts took over as I kicked backwards, simultaneously pulling my weapon from it’s holster and pointing it to the opposite side of the river A Vandal stood menacingly on the bank and began shouting some war cry in it’s infernal language. Six Dregs flowed out from the trees followed by three Shanks. What happened next happened so fast I can hardly recall it, but I believe my memory will serve me well. My super was charged, having not seen combat in quite some time, so the first order of business was easy...thin the numbers. ***continued***