Hail, travelers. Bjorn here. Spent the day wandering the wilds of Britannia, and my feet are sore but my coin purse is full! The land was generous, yielding many treasures on my long explorations. But the stables? Cursed, I say! Twice I tried to find a steed to carry me, and twice I was turned away. Even the cemetery gates seemed locked against me. A strange day of great fortune and petty failures. The road calls, but it seems I must answer on foot.
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