This is the third night i’ve had the same dream or nightmare I suppose but it really wasn’t one. Again he came to me, Sir John Jameson Tanith the knight I once squired for but he does not come to me in the shining armor I once remember, its dark as if the steel had been burnt and when he lifts his visor to gaze upon me I see nothing but bone, a bleached white skull its empty sockets staring through me. He has asked me the same thing each night. “how did I die?” Then he follows with, “why did I die?”. I can only tell him what I know. How he died was simply in battle, the why was in Torm’s cause… To protect those who needed help. And each time he cackles, and each time he follows with. “Was it worth it?” I don’t know what to tell him anymore.