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Sometimes, when it's nighttime, I can hear my Uncle Carlin crying. It sounds like he's far away, to the east.
I hope he's not crying for me! ‹namn›, will you find my uncle and tell him I'm alright?
If you find him say I'm waiting for him, and I want to hear the story he used to tell... the one about the rabbits and the berry jam! That story's so funny!
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You've seen Pamela? She's alive?
She's dead? No! Oh, Pamela! Why does your spirit still suffer in this world. Why are you perished, while fortune keeps me alive? In an instant I would switch places with you and wander dead Darrowshire, a ghost and alone!
Ah, but this news cannot change fate. Thank you, ‹namn›. Now my duty, my duty to revenge, burns hot as ever.