This series of dreams seems to have more significance than the random flashes of me fleeing Stratholme, which are what I usually dream of. I have recorded them here so that I do not forget any detail. These differ from my usual dreams, in that I could not control them. I knelt beside the body of a man with brown hair. His black armor sports the crest of a red falcon. He was dead, and tears were running down my face.I heard myself whisper to a shadowed figure across the room, full of sorrow. "Why?" Finally, I saw a flash of a small rowboat, headed for what I believe was Caer Darrow.