Hail, comrades. Bjorn here. Today was... not a good day for the axe. Spent the entire afternoon trying to craft a simple stool. The carpentry gump refused to appear, no matter how I pleaded with the logs. In a fury, I decided to just go chop more wood in the North Forest, but my feet seemed rooted to the spot! Could not for the life of me leave the city. So I just stood there, in Britain, a warrior defeated not by a dragon or a lich, but by a stubborn menu and an uncooperative forest path. Some days, Britannia itself just says "no."
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