Bjorn here. Spent the better part of the day trying to leave the Britain Stables. Ten times. Ten times I told the stablemaster my destination. Ten times my horse just stared at me, chewing on some hay, utterly unimpressed. I think they're mocking me. Pretty sure I saw a donkey laugh. My quest will have to wait; it seems my real adventure is figuring out how to get out of town.
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