Séverine and Bandit were delving deep in the Overgrown Caverns, through narrow corridors and across yawning pits, when suddenly Séverine felt compelled to pause, ears pricked - she thought she had heard something unusual. Someone saying something.

“...Did you hear that, Bandit?” She whispered, turning her head so she could sort of see the cat crouched on her back. He looked alert and curious, ears pricked. It seemed he had heard something as well. 

She whipped her head back around as she heard a similar noise again, a little clearer now - someone whispering something she couldn’t quite understand. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” She called out, her voice echoing around the cavern. No response. After a moment of waiting, she hesitantly began to move on again.

Another whisper. This one closer than the last. It startled Séverine with its seeming nearness. She shivered, trying to think up an explanation for the sounds. Perhaps the ambient sounds of the cave were playing tricks on her.

As she moved forward, the whispering sounds seemed to grow more frequent and more numerous. They filled Séverine with a deep uneasiness, although Bandit still only seemed curious. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this - nearby running water, or a colony of bats rustling around. But as the whispers grew closer and clearer, such rationality was harder and harder to justify. Clearly, she was unintentionally heading towards whatever was causing these sounds, and although she contemplated turning back and taking another route, she ultimately kept moving forwards. 

Soon, Séverine came upon what she realized was the source of the whispers: a large cavern completely lined with soul vines across the walls and floor. Yellow flowers bloomed from the vines and gourds were strewn about the ground, obscured under the broad leaves. The Harvester would be happy to know about this place, and it would be easy to collect some of the seeds to give to him - but the uneasy feeling the whispers had given her before had now intensified to a sense of icy dread. They were everywhere in here - a cacophony of them, and now they were accompanied by figures, silhouettes of the whispering ghosts. 

They came in all shapes and sizes, some of the apparitions clear enough to make out details of their appearance. Most of them were wearing armor of some kind, and some of them bore weapons. Séverine could see the insignias marking their tabards. On a humanoid ghost, she saw an insignia she recognized - the heads of two Coursers, biting each other in the necks. She’d seen the same symbol on artifacts the master Diamond Hounds had brought back from the Moor of Sleep. 

It was obviously a coat of arms of some kind, but it struck Séverine as a very grim symbol to choose to represent one’s people. To be defined by war and struggle - what a bleak kind of society these creatures must have had. 

Other humanoid ghosts had different symbols on their banners and armor. The short, stout humanoids had maned goats. The muscular, tusked humanoids had boars. And the humanoids with pointed ears had armor marked with delicate-looking does. Séverine had never expected such diversity in humanoid appearance - she was only used to seeing them as skeletons, and sometimes as drawings on ancient pottery and whatnot. 

Their whispers overwhelmed Séverine. She could not make out what any of them were saying, but she could tell that they seemed distressed, and it filled her with sadness and dread. Bandit still seemed unbothered, even though it seemed from the way he looked around that he could see and hear the ghosts too. 

“I think we need to get out of here, Bandit.” Séverine said, stepping backwards and almost tripping on a pumpkin. “We’ll tell the Harvester what we’ve found.” 

She turned around and left the room the way she came, walking briskly to get as far from the whispers as she could, as fast as possible. 

Bandit continued to stare in the direction of the whispering room as they left, looking as though he knew something Séverine did not.