A Day of Wrong Turns and Right Paths

Hail, travelers. Bjorn here. Today was... instructive. I spent half the morning convinced my horse was at the Britain stables. It was not. Then I was certain I'd left a chest of gold at the bank. I had not. Went back to the stables. Still no horse. (I may be misremembering which city I was in.)

Frustrated, I stopped trying to go anywhere and just started to explore. And what do you know? The land itself provided. Found a quiet grove, a hidden creek, a ruin with surprisingly friendly squirrels, and a merchant's lost pack (contents: mostly turnips, but still). The road is less about the destination and more about the mud on your boots, I suppose.

Sometimes Britannia teaches you patience by slamming all the doors in your face, then opening up the whole wild world instead.