The Day the Forest Fought Back

Greetings, travelers. Bjorn here. Today, I set out with a simple goal: to gather wood for barrel staves. The forest, however, had other plans.

I must have walked the path to North Forest a dozen times. Each time, some foul beast or twisted root barred my way, forcing me back to Britain empty-handed. On the rare occasion I made it to my workshop, my mind was so addled from the journey I could barely remember how to hold a hammer. I’d stare at my tools and just hear the trees laughing.

The woods of Britannia have a fierce spirit. I have the splinters and bruised pride to prove it. Tomorrow, I bring a bigger axe.

-Bjorn