A Day of Stable... Instability.

Greetings, travelers. Bjorn here. Today, my quest was a simple one: to simply go somewhere. The fates, it seems, had other plans.

My attempts to reach the stables in Britain have become a local legend of failure. I believe the horses are now mocking me. In a fit of desperation, I thought, "Perhaps the dead will have better directions than these stablehands," and tried the cemetery. They did not.

My one, singular moment of hope was a brief, misguided stumble towards the West Britain Bank. I did not get in. I ended the day exactly where I started, having traveled absolutely nowhere. My feet are tired, my pride is wounded, but my resolve is... well, it's also a bit tired, to be honest. Back to it tomorrow.