Hail, friends. Bjorn here. Today, I sought to test my mettle against the challenges of our fair land. My quest? To prove my worth and perhaps earn some coin.
The fates, it seems, had other plans. The vaults of the West Britain Bank remain stubbornly shut to me, despite my... persistent knocking. The restless dead in the cemetery found my company disagreeable and sent me packing more than once. And the stable masters? Let's just say the horses are not yet ready to call me friend.
A day of many journeys, all ending at the healer. But my spirit is not broken! Tomorrow, I shall try again. Perhaps the bank will have forgotten my face by then.
Victory or death! ...Mostly death, so far.
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