Hail, friends. Bjorn here. Today, I sought to craft a sturdy shield and then venture into the North Forest. The fates, it seems, were chuckling at my plans.
The wood simply would not obey. Six times I tried to bend the planks to my will, and six times I was rewarded with naught but kindling and splinters. My workshop floor looks like a beaver's feast.
Between failures, I thought a walk might clear my head. Yet the very forest paths of Britain seemed to conspire against me! Thrice I set out, and thrice I found myself turned around, back where I started, likely by some mischievous sprite or my own mounting frustration.
A day of humble lessons. The wood teaches patience, and the land reminds you that not all journeys are forward. Back to the grindstone... or in my case, the workbench.
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