Hail, fellow travelers. Bjorn here. Today was... a test of patience. The wilds of Britannia were kind during my scouting—found some quiet glades and clear paths. But the carpentry? A curse upon those Barrel Staves! Every time I swung my hatchet, I came up short just four pieces of wood. Couldn't seem to find my way to the forests to gather more, either—paths twisted and turned me back. Ended the day with more success in exploring than in crafting. My workshop floor is littered with kindling and my pride. Any lumberjacks in Britain want to point a frustrated dwarf toward a reliable oak?
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